Hang Up and Drive

This article was stolen from wired. Sub bicycle for motorbike and think of me.
Tony Long02:00 AM Nov. 24, 2005 PTI was riding my motorcycle to workone morning a few months ago whenthe car in front of me stopped. Cold.The woman behind the wheel had aphone to her ear, but she also hadthe green light. There wasn't anytraffic to speak of and there wasnobody in front of her. In otherwords, she stopped for absolutely noreason at all (except, probably, forwhatever it was someone had justwhispered into her shell-like ear).Although I was at the speed limit, herstopping was so completelyunexpected that I didn't have time toride around her, which would havebeen the usual evasion tactic. Mychoices: Dump the bike or visit herback seat. I hit the brakes and downI went, ass over teakettle. I nevertouched her. I landed on top of thebike, fortunately, emerging with abadly bruised elbow (not to mentiona rip in my leather jacket) and apretty nasty welt on my upper thigh.The motorcycle got beaten up prettygood but everything was put right forabout $400 -- more than the bikeitself is probably worth.As I looked up, with murder in myheart, off she went, oblivious to whathad just happened behind her. I hopethat phone call was her boyfriend,dumping her.Even before the accident, mymotorcycle was no gleaming machine-- no snarling, customized Harleywith the chrome pipes polished towithin an inch of its owner's life. It'san '86 Honda Shadow. At 500cc, it'snimble enough for city riding whilepacking enough power for the road,as long as the road isn't too long.The seat's kinda ripped up, there'ssome rust and it's got its share ofdings and dents. But it runs OK, costsabout $4 at the gas pump and, bestof all, you can park it pretty muchwhere you like.It's also a freakin' death trap.The most hard-core biker -- even thebiggest fat guy straddling the baddesthog -- knows that riding a motorcycleis inherently dangerous. There's nosuch thing as a "minor" motorcycleaccident, aside from maybe droppingthe bike on your foot. We know this,but we accept the risk of riding.Why? Well, some of us are probablyjust stupid. There's the thrill factor,of course, and it is fun. It's alsorelatively cheap, you can maneuverthrough heavy traffic and you alwayslook cooler than even the coolestdude in his Euro sports car. Becauseyou are cool, and he's just a loserwho dropped 60 grand on a penisextender. It's also about the ultimate freedomof the open road, but that's notwhere we're going today. Let's talkabout death on the open roadinstead, and how the evolvingtechnology makes the biker's life --all our lives, in fact -- more fraughtwith danger than ever before.One of the things that makes riding amotorcycle so dangerous is that thepeople out there in their cars don'tsee you. It's the first thing they tellyou in motorcycle school:"Remember, drivers don't see you."The instructors should consideradding another warning: "They don'thear you, either, because they're toobusy yapping on their cell phoneswhen they should be paying attentionto what's going on around them."Why is it that only a handful of states have made it illegal to talk on thephone while driving? Driving is notsomething you do as an afterthought,OK? You're hurtling down the roadbehind the wheel of a 3,000-poundvehicle (more like 7,000 pounds inthat idiotic destroyer of worlds, theHummer) and it doesn't take aphysicist to figure out that if you hit ahuman being -- astride a motorcycle,riding a bicycle or on foot -- you'regoing to do some damage.And it doesn't take a rocket scientistor an IT guy or a professional pokerplayer to understand that anythingyou do -- like talking on the phone --that distracts you from the businessof driving increases the chances ofcausing a serious accident.So do everybody a favor and turn offyour cell phone while you drive. (It'sOK. Your important life can waitwhile you zip over to the mall.) If youhave to make a call this very minute,pull over. This ain't exactly brainsurgery, but it might help preventsome of it, you know?Then there are the vehiclesthemselves. Hummers aside, haveyou seen the size of some these,these ... well, when Paw drove totown we used to call them pickuptrucks. Now? Pickup trucks onsteroids, maybe. (A truck that seatssix adults: What genius dreamed thatone up?)They're huge. They ride high. Toohigh. There's a hood the size ofRhode Island out in front of you,blotting out the sun. It makes it evenharder to see what's out there. If itwas easy to miss a biker when youwere driving your Volvo stationwagon, well, try checking your fieldof vision in one of thesemesomorphic babies. Of course,you're probably so busy cranking upthat Slayer CD that you'd missSonoma Sammy at full throttle on hisFatboy. RIP, Sammy.Car manufacturers are also tartingup their vehicles with all sorts ofthings that, when used like mosthumans tend to use them, distractyou from watching the road. GPS(What? You can't pull over and reada map?), high-end sound systemsrequiring your full attention tooperate and -- what in God's namewere they thinking? -- in-dash videomonitors: These have no place in amotor vehicle. Cars exist to conveyyou from one place to another. Theyare not concert halls or TVbabysitters for cranky children.(Teach the kid to read. Better yet,teach him to love to read, then givehim a book, fer crissake.)What about the motorcyclesthemselves? They're bigger, fasterand more dangerous than ever. Whywould anyone want to ride amotorcycle capable of doing 150mph? So they can scrape you off theroad with a spatula instead ofdumping you in a body bag?But the motorcyclist's No. 1 nemesisremains the inattentive driver. Solisten up: Your job as the driver is todrive. Period. Your attention isfocused on what's happening outside,not inside. Period.- - -Tony Long is Wired News' copy chief.He carries a titanium plate and sixscrews in his left shoulder from aprevious motorcycle "mishap."