A few weeks ago, I picked up a 1981 Yamaha Exciter 185 for $100. It's a little street bike that the previous owner didn't get around to fixing, so I bought it as a project to see what I could do with it. While I love riding motorcycles, I love making money on things I buy even more, and given that any running motorcycle should be able to fetch at least $500, I saw profit right away.

Yesterday, after tinkering with the bike for a while, I got the bike running, despite a worthless battery and a dying starter. After re-assembling the carburetor which a previous owner had taken apart, adjusting the carb-float tab, and swapping out the spark plug ($1.94), I was able to push-start the bike and ride it around the neighborhood.

After my first lap around the neighborhood, I thought it would be a good idea to swing by my house and put my helmet on, because you never know what might happen. After getting my helmet, I hopped back onto the bike, and push-started it again. I got a few blocks away from my house when I noticed that the bike was starting to bog down each time I opened up the throttle, so I reached down to close the choke. I couldn't find the choke switch, so in a moment of idiocy, I looked down to grab it. During that single moment, I veered enough to the right to steer my bike right into a pit of round 6" boulders, which were conveniently located at the foot of a 2-foot castle-style brick wall.

And I hit it chin first.

...

I sat on the ground for a while in a remarkable amount of pain, and checked my chin to see if I had messed it up as badly as I thought I did. My finger slid under a flap of skin on my chin large enough to cover the first digit, and a quick glance at my elbow revealed that I was not going to enjoy the rest of the week. However, even with a gaping hole in my elbow, a six-inch square section of road rash on my forearm, the hole on my chin, another patch of road rash on my chest, and a whole lot of scrapes on my knee, I'd say I was pretty lucky. Nothing broken. And I could still stand.

Eleven stitches later, plus a tetanus shot for good measure, I'm pretty beat up. The docs prescribed from oxycodone, but it's been making me feel sick all day, so I think I may just stick to ibuprofen.

Here are some pictures, if you can stomach it. They're bloody and gross. You've been warned.

Chest, road rash
Elbow, stitched up
Forearm road rash
Face, bloody
Chin, wide open
Chin, stitched up


Note: The title of this post is driving me bonkers. "Any crash you can walk away from" is how you say the phrase, but it's grammatically incorrect. It should be written "Any crash from which you can walk away."