Gurriers

“Woohoo! Yeah!” Leaning into the gradual left hander at this speed, I just couldn’t keep it in. Straightening up with the road, keeping on the power - smooth as you like.

Motorbikes - the only way to travel! I gave a quick check on the speedo as I pass the 30 mph speed limit sign. The needle confirms what I already know - I’m doing 60 mph.

“Easy there, Sean, calm down while going through the town.”

As I’m cajoling myself into letting the throttle grip back a few degrees, I am also gradually, almost sneakily (as if trying to hide it from myself) applying some brakes.

By the time I reach the main street I’m down to 45, which is slow enough for me. I consider myself totally in control whenever I’m less than 20 mph above the speed limit and therefore not likely to have my first crash.

Five years enjoying motorbikes and I have not had a single crash; no wonder I’m so cocky when on two wheels.

“Whoa, watch it missus,” I yell. Suddenly I’m hard on the brakes, beeping the horn and banging down through the gears as some old woman just pulls out of her parking space into my
path. She jams on her brakes in a panic and comes to a halt with just enough space for me to swerve past on her driver’s side without crossing onto the wrong side of the road. After utilising all of my braking power, I’m only doing about 15 mph as I pass her. I came to a full stop in front of her, put my left foot down to steady myself, and looked back, giving her a stern glance. This had the desired effect and she, in a browbeating fashion, hid her face behind the top of her steering wheel.

I’m certain that she will be sure to look in her mirror the next time!

As I face forwards, pull in the clutch and tap the bike into gear, I see the Garda bike up the street on the right for the first time. Its rider is standing beside it, staring straight at me and doesn’t look impressed by what she has just witnessed. She beckons for me to pull in beside her which infuriates me.

It’s just typical that some doddery auld one nearly knocks me off my bike because of her lack of awareness and, despite saving the situation with appropriate reactions, I’m the one that is going to receive a telling off. To hell with that!

I ease the bike forward as if I’m going to comply, but at the last second I wind the throttle full open and shoot past her, gesturing with my left hand in a similar gesture to the one that she had beckoned me with, as if returning a salutation.

I didn’t get too far before I caught the first glimpse of a flashing blue light in my mirror. It was time to make up my mind: either stop or run. Normally I would stop without hesitation but a combination of adrenalin after the fright and righteous indignation made me decide differently. With that, I opted to run and I nailed it!

The traffic along Main Street in Ballinasloe was heavy and slow moving but I made good progress, watching for gaps and then taking them, employing some pretty deft throttle, clutch and brake control in the process.

I was gaining ground on my pursuer, but not much. Since all of the traffic consisted of cars, she never lost sight of me. Not one van, bus, truck or even a tractor could I overtake to be out of her sight for enough valuable seconds to slam on the brakes
and duck down a side street to make good my escape.

No such opportunity arose before I left town and the next thing I knew, I was heading west on the main road to Galway, a bigger, faster road on which I was going to have to do silly speed to shake her off.

I knew that my Honda CB500 had an extra 10 mph top end speed on her older Kawasaki GT550, but that was never going to be enough to lose her. I had to out-smart and out-manoeuvre her. It was fortunate for me that I knew this stretch of road like the back of my hand, being such a regular visitor to Galway and all.

The cars were moving fairly fast as we left town, leaving bigger gaps between them, which made it easier but also more dangerous for bikes to get past.

I was at full throttle in top gear, dodging into gaps and then swinging out of them across the dividing line without braking, despite the occasional oncoming traffic. This was possible because there was plenty of space either side of the centre line for a bike.

All of the motorists coming the other way that swerved did so unnecessarily.

My heart was beating like a jackhammer in my chest, my eyes were bulging with concentration and it seemed as if adrenalin flowed through my veins instead of blood. What I was doing was stupid and risky but it excited me so much that I could taste it!

I was doing approximately 100 mph when I noticed a tractor about a quarter of a mile ahead, moving the same direction as I was, approaching a gradual right hand bend. There were three cars bunched up behind it, condemned to crawl along at the same speed as the tractor until they could pass. Even though there was no visible oncoming traffic, none of the cars made an attempt to pass. In an instant I deduced that there was something coming the other way that I couldn’t yet see because of the bend in the road.

I eased off the throttle, applied the brakes a little and dropped
down a gear, constantly aware of the approaching flashing light in my mirror. I had almost caught up with the back of the entourage and could see the clear road in front of the tractor when it came into view.

It was an articulated lorry heading east, probably bound for Dublin and it was only a couple of hundred yards from the front of the tractor. Both of these vehicles were considerably wider than cars and there was no guarantee that there would be enough space for a bike to fit between them as they passed each other. Once more, I had to make up my mind. If I slowed down behind the cars I would be caught for sure, but if I made it through the gap, I would have an excellent chance to make
the next left turn without being seen by my pursuer. A debate raged in my head, which in real time would have lasted about an eighth of a second.

“Go. No, yes. Yes, go, go, GO!”

The final decision came as I had been calculating the speed of the lorry for the half second or so that it had been in view and something in my head had reckoned that it was worth risking my life for.

I went for it, dropping down another gear for added acceleration and then wrenching the throttle full open. The engine screamed like a siren and the bike took off like a rocket as I swerved out and passed the back car. There was no going back now.

The oncoming monster loomed ever larger as I passed the middle and front cars, moving back up a gear with the quickest of flicks of the wrist on the throttle and the gentlest of touches on the clutch. The lorry driver flashed his lights because I’m pretty sure he was convinced that he was going to kill me, but I made it past the tractor and leaned in front of it with maybe a quarter of a second to spare.

“Yes!” I exclaimed with glee triumphantly as the long line of traffic following the lorry came into view. I would be sure to get a chance to turn left unseen by my pursuer as she waited to get past that lot. The lay of the road even chipped in to assist me, with several bends in succession ahead.