Charles Morgan
MB Enthusiast
- Joined
- Feb 2, 2010
- Messages
- 8,206
- Car
- Mercedes 250CE W114, Alfa Romeo GT Coupe 3.2 V6
Forgive me for this, it is as much a means of letting off some steam as sharing of the experience of just witnessing a nasty motorcycle accident.
I took two close friends out for a walk in the Chilterns today, a nice eight miler around the edge of the Chequers estate and through the beech woodlands of the Chilterns there. The trees are just taking on a slight golden brown and the combination of lovely views over Bucks and Beds, the company and the exercise itself, I was in a good mood. My feet hurt, I had chafing in the upper trouser area but I was feeling mellow. Given I had no food in, I stopped in my local Sichuanese to have a stunning series of dishes piled high with aromatic chilies, the endorphin release from the chili adding to the glow. Driving home the last half mile, at the junction just prior to my street, the traffic was backed up and slow.
Suddenly, in a second, a motorcyclist filtering past me was hit by a Mercedes A class that just pulled out, the manoeuvre just after signalling. Before one could even think, the biker was on the ground, and in the best of London, already a waiter from the Spanish restaurant opposite called the emergency services, and three people rushed to help the biker, who at this point was in evident distress.
Astonishingly, I was the only one of the drivers who saw the scene to pull over. Cars tried to force their way past, and one stopped to survey the scene blocking the road and had to be sent off with a sharp word from one of the helpers. Suddenly the sound of sirens then the blue lights, and the ambulance arrived within no more than two minutes, then a paramedic, and then the police, all within the next minute. My admiration for paramedics is considerable. They took the time to engage and re-assure, radiating calm efficiency, they checked his pain levels and administered the initial pain relief. He was hit hard in the back by the bike coming down, and his distress was upsetting. My sister was seriously injured in a bike accident 25 years ago, and as we were nearby, were on the scene within a few minutes. This brought it all back, and I found myself tearing up.
All the usual precautions deployed, spinal boards used, he was in the ambulance within 15 minutes. Meanwhile the Police, again, models of calm, had re-directed the traffic, one officer interviewed the Mercedes driver, others assisted the paramedic. Meanwhile, the number of gawpers just grew. I hate to witness the suffering of others, so this was just ridiculous.
Finally one officer took my details, and I was able to give a clear statement, having been in a position to witness it all. The biker was filtering carefully and not too fast, his injuries were obviously serious, so with the arrival of the traffic officer, the road became a crime scene and was closed.
I am still a little shocked, a perfect day ending so shockingly, one man on his way to the casualty in a hospital I know well, another woman to spend time contemplating what she had done with her car. All in a fraction of a second, one moment normality, the next serious injury and the whole grim process of dealing with the aftermath. I hope he recovers, the speeds were fortunately very low, but he must have taken a severe blow to the lower back.
I drove to my front door, observing a cyclist with no lights in the gloom and found myself shouting at him, pointlessly as he couldn't possibly hear. Just a momentary lapse, not using the mirrors, not clocking the motorcyclist. We hold our life and others in our hands, but we are just fallible apes, cocooned too often in a world of our own. I suspect I shall drive like I am glass for the next week or so.
I think it is time for some of my best whisky. Too often I moan about the Nanny state, the Police and drivers. Tonight thank heavens for them and the paramedics. The first drop will be a toast.
I took two close friends out for a walk in the Chilterns today, a nice eight miler around the edge of the Chequers estate and through the beech woodlands of the Chilterns there. The trees are just taking on a slight golden brown and the combination of lovely views over Bucks and Beds, the company and the exercise itself, I was in a good mood. My feet hurt, I had chafing in the upper trouser area but I was feeling mellow. Given I had no food in, I stopped in my local Sichuanese to have a stunning series of dishes piled high with aromatic chilies, the endorphin release from the chili adding to the glow. Driving home the last half mile, at the junction just prior to my street, the traffic was backed up and slow.
Suddenly, in a second, a motorcyclist filtering past me was hit by a Mercedes A class that just pulled out, the manoeuvre just after signalling. Before one could even think, the biker was on the ground, and in the best of London, already a waiter from the Spanish restaurant opposite called the emergency services, and three people rushed to help the biker, who at this point was in evident distress.
Astonishingly, I was the only one of the drivers who saw the scene to pull over. Cars tried to force their way past, and one stopped to survey the scene blocking the road and had to be sent off with a sharp word from one of the helpers. Suddenly the sound of sirens then the blue lights, and the ambulance arrived within no more than two minutes, then a paramedic, and then the police, all within the next minute. My admiration for paramedics is considerable. They took the time to engage and re-assure, radiating calm efficiency, they checked his pain levels and administered the initial pain relief. He was hit hard in the back by the bike coming down, and his distress was upsetting. My sister was seriously injured in a bike accident 25 years ago, and as we were nearby, were on the scene within a few minutes. This brought it all back, and I found myself tearing up.
All the usual precautions deployed, spinal boards used, he was in the ambulance within 15 minutes. Meanwhile the Police, again, models of calm, had re-directed the traffic, one officer interviewed the Mercedes driver, others assisted the paramedic. Meanwhile, the number of gawpers just grew. I hate to witness the suffering of others, so this was just ridiculous.
Finally one officer took my details, and I was able to give a clear statement, having been in a position to witness it all. The biker was filtering carefully and not too fast, his injuries were obviously serious, so with the arrival of the traffic officer, the road became a crime scene and was closed.
I am still a little shocked, a perfect day ending so shockingly, one man on his way to the casualty in a hospital I know well, another woman to spend time contemplating what she had done with her car. All in a fraction of a second, one moment normality, the next serious injury and the whole grim process of dealing with the aftermath. I hope he recovers, the speeds were fortunately very low, but he must have taken a severe blow to the lower back.
I drove to my front door, observing a cyclist with no lights in the gloom and found myself shouting at him, pointlessly as he couldn't possibly hear. Just a momentary lapse, not using the mirrors, not clocking the motorcyclist. We hold our life and others in our hands, but we are just fallible apes, cocooned too often in a world of our own. I suspect I shall drive like I am glass for the next week or so.
I think it is time for some of my best whisky. Too often I moan about the Nanny state, the Police and drivers. Tonight thank heavens for them and the paramedics. The first drop will be a toast.
Last edited:
