Photo by Mehmet Talha Onuk on Unsplash
Recently in a village in the Hoeksche Waard (Netherlands), a 19-year-old motorcyclist collided head-on with a car and died on the spot. The driver of the car turned out to be a 17-year-old boy with his mother next to him. He had a supervised driver’s license. There was no alcohol involved, no drugs, nothing that we would normally label as ‘guilty’. And yet a young boy is dead.
I used to want to ride a motorcycle too. That freedom. The speed. The cool image. Until I met someone who lost his arm and leg in a motorcycle accident. And suddenly I thought: maybe freedom without limbs is not exactly what I had in mind.
I used to visit a former friend of mine who lives nearby (I'm not sure if she still lives there, by the way). In the summer we would always sit outside on the apartment building, have a drink, eat, and play some cards. One of the other residents was the man who had that accident.
It got me thinking. Because honestly? I’m not a hero when it comes to rules myself. Speed limits and traffic signs often feel like suggestions to me, and that’s exactly the point: riding a motorcycle requires not only nerves of steel, but also iron discipline. Something that, if I’m completely honest, I don’t possess.
I’m more of the type: “What if it just works?” And that’s fine for a job interview or baking a cake without a recipe. But not at much too high a speed without a cage construction on two wheels.
And then that supervisor in the car of 17. His mom. Who when he was little may have forbidden him to trade Pokémon cards with that weird boy next door. Now she was sitting next to him while he drove. Nice, I must say. Until a motorcyclist arrived. What a traumatic experience. Sigh…
Maybe we should stop pretending that motorcycling is ‘just a means of transport’. It’s adrenaline on wheels. A form of transport where a small error in judgment ends with a memorial sticker on a lamppost.
And no, I’m not saying that motorcycles should be banned. But maybe we should treat them like we do with alcohol: in moderation, with training, and with the realization that you can ruin someone else’s life… even if you drive straight yourself.
It could have been me. That guy on the motorcycle. But I’m not. And for that, on this sunny day, I am damn grateful.