80 km/h + 2 deer = 1 broken wrist + 1 concussion

It was a conspiracy.

At 9:30am, on a bright, sunny morning in August of 2024 I was riding along one of my favourite 2 lane rural roads just north of Toronto. I was doing the speed limit, officer, honestly. I was, in fact, doing the speed limit, because this section of road quickly drops down to 40 km/h as it enters a small town, and there is occasionally one of Ontario’s Finest waiting, radar gun in hand, to catch exuberant Southerners out for a pleasant morning sojourn.

This road has a narrow gravel shoulder, then a 6 foot ditch which leads into the forest. A friend whose cottage is in the area said: “It’s not a ditch, it’s a ravine!” The scrubby growth at the top of the ditch is about 2 feet high, so effectively you can’t see anything deep in the ditch until you’re right on top of it.

Unbeknownst to me, the Odocoileus virginianus Society for the Hitting of Ignorant Triumph riders (O-SHIT) had met the evening prior and decided to ambush me, making an example of me for other riders.

I have been riding for many years, and have seen many deer crossing the road, but most often one spots the deer way up ahead on the shoulder or on the road itself, giving one time to slow or stop. But Deer # 1 leapt out of the ditch, right into my path. I grabbed a fistful of brake, and started to steer right, hoping it would continue to move to my left, in the direction it was heading. I was almost on top of it when it’s co-conspirator, Deer #2, dealt the coup-de-grace.

At this point in my story, most everyone asks: “But were the deer ok?”

Yes (he says begrudgingly).

I was riding my Triumph Speed Twin 1200, a standard, sit-like-you’re-on-a-dining-room-chair kind of bike. So my head was about level with the deer’s spine.

I had the choice to hit Deer #2 head-on, likely snapping my neck, or to go into the ditch, taking my chances. To the ditch!!

As Jeremy Clarkson from Top Gear once said: “It’s not speeding that kills. It’s the sudden stopping.”

I awoke in the ditch, around 20 minutes later, with my bike to my left, my helmet off, and my phone in my hand, thinking: “Well, this is odd…”

I had apparently called my wife. A good friend who works as a Staff Sargeant in our local police force said that most people, in an emergency, will phone their spouse or another loved one first before calling the police. Guilty as charged.

I called her back, then called CAA, who called the police, who told me to head to collision reporting, after which I was driven 2 hours to my house, with my bike on a flatbed.

By the time I got home, my right wrist was about the size of a tennis ball. I had an x-ray that night, saw the surgeon the next morning, was operated on the following week, and was back on a motorcycle 8 weeks later.

I have vowed to begin deer hunting.

Is motorcycling expensive? What’s the price of sanity?

Moto GP bikes go for around $3 million apiece! A lot more than I’ve spent on bikes over my lifetime.

You may have seen my last blog, with a picture of my short-lived collection of 6 bikes, and said: “Well, yes, it appears motorcycling IS expensive.”

But, of course, the sane amongst those in the motorcycling world may have only one bike. And, in a city like Toronto, this may actually be a money saving venture. “How?” you may ask. Allow me to explain…

A typical 500cc motorcycle may cost around $6000 to purchase used, a few hundred dollars per year in annual maintenance, and $1000 or more per year to insure, depending on your age, accredited rider training, driving record, geographic location, etc.

In Toronto, parking a motorcycle downtown, in any city parking spot that is metered, is still currently FREE. When I worked in the financial district, parking was $42/day in my building, though I usually parked 2 blocks away for $17/day. Parking my motorcycle on that same street was free, saving me around $2500 every year.

Most small bikes use gas at a rate of about 4L/100km. That’s better than a Prius. And a whole lot more fun. So if I were to have driven a typical car the 15 000 kms per year that I average on motorcycles, using 10L/100km, I would have burned an additional 900L of gas, at a cost of approximately $1.50/L, or $1450. (Sorry for all the math.)

Bikes hardly lose value. If purchased used, and sold before a complete mechanical overhaul is needed, bikes retain a signficant amount of their value. A $6000 bike may become a $3000 bike after 10 years!

I calculated that in 32 years of motorcycle ownership, having had more than one bike at a time, buying and selling all the bikes I’ve ever owned, I have lost a grand total of…

$31 573

Less than $1000 per year.

Less than the average new car depreciates over its first 3 years.

Less than half the cost of a Starbucks latte every day for 32 years.

So, the truth is that motorcycling can be relatively affordable. And, yes, I know that public transit is even more affordable. But, tell me, when was the last time you were super excited to be riding the bus?

Like my motto says: “Paying for my sanity one tank at a time”.

The price for my sanity, all told, is pretty cheap.

How many motorcycles is too many?

Ok, yes, there’s clearly a problem here.

I know many pundits have written on this topic before, my favourite being Peter Egan. In 1997, Peter concluded you need 5 bikes: 1. A sportbike; 2. A sport-touring bike; 3. A dirt bike; 4. A great big hog; and 5. An Old Crock.

I would humbly suggest that, for those 50-somethings like myself, with the chronic aches and pains that accompany age, and the lack of mechanical skills someone like Peter has, the new list might look more like this:

1. A sporty standard - a bit more upright, but with enough peg clearance to lean over and still scare yourself sometimes.

2. A sport touring bike - I used to have a Ninja 1000 SX. Fast, great in turns, integrated luggage to hold enough for a long trip, and comfortable. As I called it: “The Old Guy’s Sportbike.”

3. An ADV bike - I’m not much one for riding single track in the forest, but it’s great to have a bike that is capable in the twisties and on long highway hauls, but with the added advantage of not having to turn around when a gravel road presents itself.

4. Cruiser? Not for me. They tend to be slow, not great in the handling department, and frankly uncomfortable, with their hands-feet-forward, back-too-curved-and-weight-on-the-tailbone design. I had a Vstar 1100, and rode it less than 4000kms in 10 years. (Then I bought a Bandit 1250 and rode 15 000kms in 12 months!) But for those who like these bikes, more power to you.

5. A modern-ish cafe racer - old enough looking to fit the bill, but doesn’t require weekly wrenching. I’d rather ride than wrench. Though on this bike, that’s only for 2 hours at a time. Damn clip-ons!

Again, as Peter said, sometimes you wind up with a few bikes in one category, and that’s when the trouble starts.

From left to right in the picture: Vstrom 1050 XT, Versys 1000 LT SE+, Tiger 900 GT, Thruxton 1200R, Z900RS and Scrambler 900.

I realize that most people have neither the means nor the time to curate a large collection of motorcycles. I happened to be “between sales”, as I like to call it. And, frankly, motorcycles are not that expensive as hobbies go. This entire stable of bikes was purchased for less than what a new 7 seater SUV would cost, or perhaps one year of college in the US. And would either of those 2 things be nearly as fun? (Well, college can be fun…)

My collection of bikes was really only together for a month or so. Within weeks of this picture, 4 were sold, leaving only the Thruxton (#5) and the Tiger (#2). Months later I added a Speed Twin 1200 (#1), so I’ve got 3 categories covered. Perhaps this means I’m done adding to the collection.

But I’ve had that Ninja 1000 SX, and the new one looks so awesome…

The final 3 lessons motorcycling taught me about life

We say that every motorcyclist is an amateur meteorologist. Forecasts and radar are consulted for days in advance of a ride, and watched even more closely over breakfast while on the road. The virtues and limitations of various apps are argued over, and consensus is finally reached: we can’t go that way today.

Sometimes mechanical breakdowns, road closures, illness…any of these things can cause plans to change.

I am, by nature, a planner. My motorcycle catchphrase is “Just In Case”. I’m the guy who brings a full EMS kit on my bike every time I ride. I could splint a broken bone, or stop an arterial bleed with Hemostat powder…it’s all in my first aid kit! I make a spreadsheet of all the hotels we’ll be staying in, with checkmarks for whether breakfast is included, or what parking will cost.

So motorcycling reminds me to be more flexible. You have to take things as they come, and change course if needed. Nothing ever goes completely to plan.

On several occasions over the years, I’ve ridden almost 1600 kms in one day. I am not the most patient person (see my previous blogs). And I get by without a lot of sleep. But having dozed off at 120 km/h in Iowa once (thank God the roads are perfectly straight for 100 miles at a time), I realized I had to get off the bike and have a breather.

Motorcycling reminds you that you should rest when you’re tired. This may sound obvious, but most of us are so overloaded with work, maybe kids, or aging parents, that we’re running out of gas all the time. We need a reminder to take some time out, before we crash out.

Coming home from a ride is a melancholy moment - the ride is over, but what a memory of it you’ll have. To be with friends, or enjoy just your own company, to be in nature, to work on a skill. Just to ride is a blessing. Motorcycling reminds me to be thankful.

Enjoy everything this life has to offer. It’s the only one you get.

The next 3 lessons motorcycling taught me about life

When I decided to ride, I was in my early 20s, and I knew that I would meet with a lot of resistance from my parents. Now, some of you might say: “You were in your 20s. What does that matter?” Clearly, you don’t know Asian parents! Besides, I was still living at home, while going to school, so I was living under their rules.

But my desire to ride was greater than any concern I had about their disapproval. My desire to ride was greater than any fear I might have had of injury. I just had to make it happen.

So motorcycling taught me that “one day” is today. It taught me to have goals, not dreams. To do one action, take one step, to move closer to that goal. It taught me to not make excuses for why things don’t happen; you have to make them happen.

I’ve had moments over the years where I’ve gone into a corner just a bit too hot, and I’m hard on the brakes, leaning the bike over, and praying that I’ll make it around. Always trying to find the upper limit of my skill, which is usually far below the capability of the machine.

I will say that whenever I ride, I’m always just a bit afraid. There’s nothing like a hobby that could kill you at any moment that’ll keep your adrenaline up! Motorcyling has helped me channel fear into action, to realize that if you’re not feeling a little anxiety, you’re probably too comfortable. You have to challenge yourself, and accept that fear is okay. You can’t let fear stop you.

There’s a common parting phrase used by motorcyclists: “Keep the shiny side up!” There’s an obvious meaning: that you’re wishing your friend a safe ride. But to me there was always a second meaning. You have to stay optimistic. There’s always an upside to things. I don’t mean to be a Little Mary Sunshine and say that you can turn any tragedy into a win just by smiling. But I do think that a positive attitude gets people through life more easily.

When my son was little, we’d play games, and he’d sometimes lose, and he’d get really upset. I would tell him: “Well, happiness is a choice. You can choose to be happy that we get to play together, or you can choose to be sad because you lost. So do you want to choose to be happy, or do you want to choose to be sad?” And he would say, crying, his face frowning: “happy…bwaaah!”

We have to coach ourselves into action, out of complacency, into just enough fear to make us feel alive…into happiness.