As promised, my front fender saga:
My fender story isn’t as exciting as ChiTown’s recent desert experience, but then again I lean more toward the steady-but-sure riding style of Don E (Yes, I’m a fan). Yesterday, however, I was a risk taker. I actually DARED to take my bike out on its normal daily commute despite the fact that it’s San Diego, and it had just rained. Anyone who’s ever ridden in Southern California with even a hint of precipitation will understand my trepidation…People here just lose all sense of speed, distance, calm, coordination or mental clarity whenever it rains!
Having survived 3 years and 30K miles of SoCal driver inattentiveness, I thought I would be OK with a little water on the road. After all, my bike was due for its annual wash anyway, and I’d be able to lane split/share/filter my way past all the crunched-up cars and rubber-necking tourists. As it was, I never even made it onto the highway…
Stories abound of folks being rear-ended at stop lights. I know it’s been one of my fears (along with sharks) and I’ve added a Tail Blazer and aux lights in addition to my gaudy, high-viz fluorescent-yellow Olympia jacket in an attempt to be seen. On this day, though, that was not enough. Here I was on the same route I’ve taken almost every day for the last 10 years, waiting in line at a traffic light for my chance to merge onto the busy 125N on-ramp, when I see a car speeding toward me from behind. I immediately go into self-preservation mode checking my mirrors, checking that I’m still in 1st gear, identifying an exit strategy to the right, preparing to go, when all of a sudden I realize…The piece-o-crap pickup sitting in FRONT of me is now BACKING UP!!! I’m now thinking… S@#%, I’m going to get sandwiched AND… it’s even harder to find the damned horn button when you’re holding-in the clutch.
Well, long story short (too late, I know), the car behind me skids to the right just missing me, but the piece-o-crap pickup (without any reverse lights, of course) didn’t. I don’t what alerted him first. Was it my profound swearing, my blaring horn, or just the resistance of pushing around an additional 600 lbs. In any case, he didn’t stop until he had fully crunched my front fender and scraped-up both my fork tubes. I’m still amazed that I was able to somehow keep the bike upright and level as we rolled back about 5 feet.
Having survived the impact, my next goal was to survive dealing with a clearly insane escaped mental patient. After all, who else would back up in this location, under these circumstances? As I found out, I wasn’t too far off the mark.
I’ll call him Allen (because that’s his name). Allen just got his piece-o-crap truck. Allen doesn’t have any insurance. Allen just got his license BACK (I’m afraid to ask why - for my own composure reasons). Allen tells me about how he was in another accident just last week and paid the other driver off with $50. Allen thinks $50 should cover a new fender, right? Allen shows me his driver’s license and gives me his phone number saying he’ll make good on this.
Now fast forward 24 hours: I’ve just had my bike checked-out at the dealer ($103). I’ve gotten a quote to return it to as-it-was condition ($2600). I’ve got a quote for just a new OEM fender ($303, but not my color, so it’ll need painting). I’ve got an estimate for painting ($200), and an estimate for the dealer to install the part ($75, yeah right, that’s gonna happen). And I’ve also got a $1000 deductable on MY insurance.
So, I’m definitely not happy that my PRISTINE bike will now have battle scars due to someone else’s stupidity

. And I’m not happy that I’ll miss out on a few weeks of good riding. But I’m ALIVE, and I’m a realist. So I’m probably going to just bite-my-lip, hope for the best, and tell Allen that $650 will cover it. Failing that…I’ve got his VIN, his picture, his plate number, his phone number, and the number of the local Highway Patrol office!
