A true PR person will go to almost any lengths to get the message across. I just wasn't aware of the lengths to which my wife, Kathy, was willing to reach. Kathy and I had been Public Relations Coordinators for Virginia Chapter VAD for about six months and had been diligently utilizing all of our ideas for spreading the word about GWRRA in particular and motorcycling in general.

Kathy and I have ridden all over the U.S. on various bikes during the past 25 years, but had not owned a Gold Wing until September of 1992. Most of the time prior to this Kathy had participated as a Co-Rider, though she was not new to riding, having piloted my bikes off and on for more than 20 years. She had been gradually working her way up to larger and larger bikes. We joined GWRRA shortly after purchasing our Gold Wing, and were really enjoying the company of our newfound friends. Kathy had been riding my l992 Aspencade around our Chapter practice course and in parking lots for several months.

Finally, she got her "new" bike, a 1982 GL1100 Interstate, in September 1993, and she was really proud of it. She was extremely careful and pretty much knew her limitations. Kathy had been practicing on her bike every chance she could, and we had just returned the week before from the Virginia District Rally in Salem—a 350 mile round trip in some pretty nasty (cold & wet) weather— without a hitch. Kathy is a member of a small, but growing, group of Chapter D ladies who pilot their own bikes and are trying to set an example for other ladies.

Without telling me of her plan, Kathy decided that several groups of people (the local EMS, police, and emergency room personnel), were not aware of GWRRA and the way we respond to friends in need. She apparently concluded that the easiest way to reach all of these uninformed parties was to crash, getting the undivided attention of many people at once.

While riding down Old Bon Air Road in Chesterfield County, VA, at about 6 p.m. with Kathy in the lead and me following, she put this plan into action. The first person's attention she grabbed was mine. (Seeing the person with whom you've shared the past 30 years of your life go flying through the air, while performing a perfect 360° layout dive, then landing flat on her back, tends to make you stop and take notice.) While I was watching this scene unfold in front of me, Kathy's bike was performing its own imitation of her act. (In retrospect, I would give them both a perfect 10 on form and a 5 on technical merit.) When both of them had completed their aerobatic routines, they came back together again on the shoulder of the road. (All of this happened in the time it takes to say "Ooops.")

My main concerns were getting my bike safely stopped at the side of the road, assuring it would not fall over on the two of us, turning on my flashers to keep someone from knocking into us and removing my helmet. While I was doing this, I was worried Kathy had not survived the before-mentioned aerobatics.

As my helmet came off, the sweetest words I have ever heard came up from the shoulder of the road, "Get this bike off of me...it's burning my leg!" I immediately jumped down to the bike and lifted it enough for Kathy to slide her leg from beneath the exhaust. (This put to rest at least two fears. Happily, Kathy was still alive and she was not paralyzed.)

Her next words were, "How could I have been so stupid?" followed by, "I think my shoulder is broken," "The bike is burning my hip," "Now the other ladies will be afraid to ride," and "When is the next MSF course?"

The first person on the scene helped me pull the motorcycle far enough away from Kathy so it would not burn her anymore. The next person was an EMT, who took charge of Kathy. A bystander wanted to know if he should call the paramedics and police from his cellular phone. I hollered "Yes," then attempted to call for help on my bike's CB. (Either because of our location or because no one was listening, I couldn't reach anyone on Channel 9.)

As a result of the cellular phone, the police soon arrived, followed by the rescue squad. Within a short time, they had Kathy in a neck brace, strapped her down to a backboard, started an IV, and were ready to transport her to the emergency room. Knowing Kathy was conscious and well taken care of, I let them take her on to the hospital while I handled her bike.

After trucking Kathy's bike home, I arrived at the hospital about 45 minutes after the ambulance left the scene.

I called Dave and Lois Nichols, our Chapter VAD Directors, to let them know what had happened. What began to happen then is truly a phenomenon that must be unique to GWRRA. Within a short time I got a call from Toni Bruce. Soon, she and her husband, Frosty, arrived at the emergency room and waited with me until Kathy got out of the X-ray room. Her only broken bone was her left clavicle ("collarbone" for us mentally challenged), and her left ankle was pretty badly sprained. The doctors wanted to keep her overnight to make sure her neck was all right and there were no internal injuries.

The Bruces left once they knew that everything was going to be okay. Immediately after they had gone, in walked Ray Baker. He volunteered the use of his trailer the next day to take her bike down to Ed's Honda at South Boston.

The next day was truly amazing! Unable to get to the hospital until around 9:30 a.m. due to all of the phone calls from our Chapter VAD friends inquiring about Kathy, I found her okay, but uncomfortable. Her neck brace had been removed, but the doctor wasn't certain she could go home that day. A nurse was in the process of giving Kathy her bath for the day, and wasn't too happy to see us all. She said Kathy had so many visitors that it had thrown their whole schedule off. She shooed us out the door. When I got back to the hospital around 8:30 p.m., Jim and Doris Robertson were there and Kathy was champing at the bit to go home.

To make a long story short, Kathy is recovering. She is still sore all over, and her own clipped wing isn't healing like it should; she may need surgery. Her two-wheeled Wing is back home now being repaired.

All kidding aside, I want to share some lessons we learned from this experience. The first is no matter how long you have been riding, you must concentrate on what you are doing 100% of the time. Kathy thinks she must have been caught by surprise when she hit some gravel in the apex of the turn.

Secondly, panic only makes a bad situation worse. The MSF courses can help you learn what to do in these instances.

Third, we will always wear helmets, preferably full-face. Kathy's full-face helmet prevented her from sustaining any head or facial injuries. One look at the deep, two-inch-long gash in her helmet should be enough to convince even the most ardent helmet foe.

Fourth, CB radios work great for talking with other riders, but are generally useless if you need to reach someone for help. We now carry a portable cellular phone wherever we go.

Fifth, Kathy need not have worried about the other Chapter ladies being afraid to ride again. In fact, they were worried she would be afraid to get back on. They need not have worried about that. She'll be riding as soon as her collarbone heals.

Finally, don't contact a GWRRA Chapter for help unless you are prepared to be inundated by loving and caring friends. It's this type of friendship that sets GWRRA apart from any other organization.

Both Kathy and I want to express our sincere appreciation to all who came by, called, or sent cards, especially Virginia Chapter VAD. You really came through in carrying out Kathy's plan of letting others know how our GWRRA friends take care of each other.

Reproduced here with permission of Nick Hoppner, Editor - Wing World Magazine. This article originally appeared on page 30 of the April 1994 issue.