The weekend of November the Second to the Fourth, 2007 was the Grand Prix of motorcycle racing at the track at Cheste, in Valencia. It is supposed to be a long weekend when people of like-minded interests come together to have fun, and to make new friends.
The event saw approximately thirty thousand young people with their bikes, and friends and families congregate in and around Cheste in an atmosphere of great excitement. It really has to be seen to be believed. Both young men and women, dressed in their finest leathers, proudly showing off their customized “hogs”. Bikers are the same the world over. I am convinced of that. I count myself among the fraternity, and now, so does my son.
I am certain that all attending the event just can’t wait for the date to arrive. As for the small town of Cheste, it’s like a good bomb went off. The bars and restaurants did a booming business, the gas station didn’t know what hit it, and the shelves at Consum and Mercadona were laid bare. Oh sure, the kids made entirely too much noise, and they generated too much trash, and none of the residents got any sleep for the entire week-end, unless they visited relatives and friends elsewhere. The point is, it’s all about having a great time.
Then came the crashes off the track. Perhaps too much exuberance, most likely too much speed, and not enough care is all that it takes, and a young life is lost to the world forever, with all its promise. All too soon!
Today, families are struggling to cope with their losses. Two young men and a young woman died, while another young woman was seriously injured, her life hanging in the balance. I don’t even know the people directly involved, but that does not shield me from feeling their pain.
I was particularly mindful of the bikers during the event. I normally use special precaution about bikes, being one myself when I’m not driving my car. They were everywhere, sort of like flies buzzing about. However, it occurred to me that on the weekend not one of them passed me on the right.
Being young is so precious. It’s a time when you get to experience things with fresh eyes. You have the energy to make things happen, and to change the world. The young people at Race Weekend were only trying to enjoy themselves. Surely we wouldn’t want to deny them that. Having fun does not normally come with a death sentence.
I urge cyclists, whether riding pedal or motor, to wear the reflective lime-green vest, both by day and night. That will make it easier for us drivers to see you. I call this “Be Seen to be Safe!”
To my fellow drivers, please take extra precautions to keep cyclists safe. They are someone’s child trying to grow up. If we all look out for each other’s children we play our part to make that happen.
Copyright (c) 2007 Eugene Carmichael
