Clarity

~Ever wonder what people would think or remember of you if you died?~


The motorcycle was light and easy to right, perfectly balanced. I lifted the kickstand and centered the handlebars, flicking the engine cutoff switch to 'run.' Two clicks of the key and the HUD lit up a pale orange. The fuel injection system buzzed quietly as it ran its self diagnosis. Once the various lights went out I pulled in the clutch lever and thumbed the start button. The engine turned over roughly before roaring to a start, engine calming down to idle.

I snapped the throttle and grinned like a child with an ice cream cone on a scorching summer day. The engine roared to 7000RPM and I popped the clutch. The front wheel jumped into the air like a rearing stallion. By the top of 1st gear I had the bike settled back on two wheels. I snapped the throttle closed at 11,000RPM, grabbed a handful of clutch and notched the gear selector into 2nd. In a motion smoother than silk I let out the clutch and rolled the throttle to wide open.

My grin was replaced with intense concentration once I hit 3rd gear and was flying down the road at 90MPH. My motorcycle screamed on, a scythe through the cool mountain air. The intake whined as the bike hit its power band, greedily sucking in more air. Birds scattered in fear, the rumble of the exhaust thundering off of the cliffs.

The first corner was rapidly approaching but I decided to push it. The top of 4th gear was approaching as fast as the turn, I had to make it. The speedometer clocked in at 115Mph before I worked the brakes with precision to prevent a rear wheel slide and dropped to 70Mph like a rock. I shifted my weight off the seat and put my knee out. The whipping wind caught it like a sail and helped pull the bike through the turn along with the pressure on the left grip.

I was in my zone, completely at peace. The asphalt was a blur from my view with my head stuck out behind the rear view mirror. I crossed the apex and drifted to the outside of the turn as I exited while giving the bike more gas, a perfectly dominated sweeper. I quickly shifted my weight to the opposite side of the bike for the upcoming right turn. My motorcycle screamed at 9500RPM in 4th gear, loving every foot of pavement it gobbled up. With an open throttle I passed the apex with pavement so close my knee lightly scraped the road.

The cliffs on the outside of the turns offered a breath taking view. My heart raced with the engine as the rode opened up. A pebble in the road, a gouge in the pavement and I could easily become a permanent part of the scenery. Fear was not something on my mind. All I saw was the road ready to be conquered. Mind focused like a man with tunnel vision; precise throttle work, feathering of the brakes and the perfect moment to shift.

Miles ticked over on the odometer as my bike ate up them up like a ravenous hungry hungry hippo. My confidence couldn't peak any higher. The motorcycle and myself were a perfect example of a symbiotic relationship, we knew the other like no other could understand. The cliffs melted away and the elevation dropped rapidly into a huge valley. High speed downward curves had become the norm from the tight twists of the cliffs. Ancient trees grew into the sky as I entered the forest. I slowed for a moment to admire the scenery as something other than a green blob in my peripheral vision before taking off at full throttle.

The next turn was a long left if memory served and I hit it at 104Mph. However, my confidence had outpaced the capabilities of my motorcycle and I was doing something I shouldn't have been doing. I was at my maximum lean angle so there was no more rubber to utilize. I hit the apex at 120Mph and saw a fat stick in the road, mocking me. There was nothing I could do to avoid it all I could hope to do was scrub off some speed. I lightly applied the front and rear brakes and slowly let off the gas. Too much brake and the bike would right itself and careen into the forest with me on it. I glanced at my speed just before hitting the stick: 107Mph. At the angle I was leaning the front tire hit the stick and the bike leaned further because of my shifted weight. The instant the rear tire bounced over it the bike smashed to the ground. The frame sliders kept my leg from being crushed but my helmet, shoulder and hip hit the ground, hard.

Sparks showered over me as metal ground into pavement. My brain shut off from the sudden shock for a moment and I slid across the road. The motorcycle kept its momentum and went ahead of me, tumbling as soon as it hit the first bushes. Plastic, dirt and foliage exploded into the air. I was sliding on my side when I came to and saw the dirt lip on the edge of the road before my shoulder hit. I felt my shoulder shatter and was thrown into the woods. I could hear the explosive sound of my bike being destroyed at high speed on a tree even while I was tumbling through the air. I had no sense of direction and this was made worse when I spun in a completely different direction and lost the feeling in my left leg. I swear I bounced off the ground a couple of times before I came to a stop. I slowly opened my eyes and the world was brown and green. Agonizing pain tore through my entire body. I realized I was laying face down in a bush. Darkness spread from the edges of my vision and a moment later I blacked out.

When I woke up the ambient light had decreased but the pain had only intensified. My leathers probably looked interesting but at least my skin didn't feel like it had been taken to a power sander. I didn't need to see my bike to know it was done for. I decided I should try and take inventory on what was not broken. First I tried moving the fingers on both hands. The left worked beautifully but the right was either not responding or the searing pain made it impossible to tell if my fingers were moving. My legs were in similar shape but opposite. The pain had to be a good sign at least it meant my spine probably wasn't broken. I shimmied my left hand under my chest and did my best to ignore the stabbing pain in my chest. I struggled for a minute to keep my balance and roll myself over onto my good shoulder. Once my weight took over and rolled me the rest of the way I couldn't hold back the scream of pain. Gravity was definitely not my friend right now. I was breathing heavily after the ordeal and noticed my breathing was labored and painful. Great. So I had at least one broken rib if not more. There was no telling what sort of internal damage I had suffered but I hoped my gear had kept it to a minimum. I did feel oddly warm in the cooling evening air, must be the onset of shock.

The sun was going down rapidly and it was obvious nobody had been by or noticed for hours. I closed my eyes and thought about the future I may or may not have. If I died who would miss me? Besides the obvious family, is there anybody else that would? How long would I be remembered before I became a distant memory? I started to go over the last conversations I had with my friends and those closest to me. There were a few I wish I could apologize to. At least I had told a friend where I was headed. The chin strap of my helmet was starting to irritate me despite the excruciating pain coming from other parts of my body. I could take off my glove with only one hand so I fussed with the strap for a couple of minutes. I managed to loosen it and sighed in relief and quickly regretted it. I closed my eyes and lay helplessly on the forest floor. I didn't regret the day. Hell, I was not even upset with the stick. I was the one that fucked up. I could feel consciousness slipping away from me and thought about how cliché it was for what could be my last thought to be of a girl but then I realized it had been a long time since I last went camping. A damn shame.