Why is this man smiling?

No pictures today, just a quick post.  For those who don't fully appreciate the element of danger involved in riding (solo or not) around Australia -- this includes me -- here's how my day went, fast forwarded to the important part:

Woke up at 6am, as I've started to do in the outback to avoid riding through the hottest part of the day.  As has become my Aussie standard, it was either raining or threatening to do so most of the ride.  I rode through a town called Julia Creek towards Cloncurry.  I was heading around a bend just broad enough that I could see ahead to safely ride at speed through it, but not enough that I could catch every detail in the shorter distances, and out of nowhere a kangaroo hops towards my bike diagonally, as if to race me or close the distance by taking the angle.  Within no more than half a second, he hopped once or twice towards me...I just have enough time to comprehend that it's a kangaroo on the road...and THUD!  The 'roo hits my bike somewhere on the right side near the front.

All I could muster was a, "no...shiiiiit" before I lost control of the bike.  Similar to when a football player's legs are taken out, my bike leans over and impacts the ground on its right side, rider in tow, going 100-110kph (60-70mph).  Right after the impact, I separate from the bike, sliding behind it on the wet, jagged road, for about 30m (100ft) until both bike and I are sitting lamely in the middle of the highway.  Most of the slide was on my right side, and as I began to assess the aftermath, I noticed my protective pants are torn to shreds.  My helmet is scratched up, but no serious issues there.  And there's a veritable yard sale along the highway.  My bike was furthest up, followed by my red gas can, my 50L tarp bag, me, and then some plastic bits (front indicator, etc) behind me.  I just lay there in the road, in disbelief of what just happened, looking at myself, at the bike, and hoping to see a 'roo carcass behind me as a token souvenir...no luck though.  About a minute later, the first car rolls up, stops, and makes sure I'm all right.  He calls an ambulance and makes sure to halt all traffic until things are cleared up.  After a few minutes of catching my breath and coming to terms with the fact that I've just had a pretty serious accident, I slid to the side of the road so some of the traffic could get past.  About 20 minutes later, the ambulance rolls up and I'm in in short order, on my way to Cloncurry hospital.  Luckily, there didn't seem to be any serious damage, just scrapes and bruises.

It's now 9:30pm, and after a battery of x-rays and tests, I'm happy to say that it is just scrapes and bruises.  I can't put my weight on my right leg, as there are some muscles that are pulled or tweaked or whatnot, but there are, thank God, no ligament damage or broken bones to report.  Knowing that people have died falling off motorcycles going MUCH slower, it is truly a miracle that I'm not in a body cast or a pine box in the belly of the next Qantas flight to LA after my fall at 60-70mph.

Most of the quantifiable bit (aside from luck and a hand from above), is due to the protective gear I refuse to get on a motorcycle without.  My helmet needs replacing and prevented any serious head injuries; my trousers are shredded up on the right side, where most of the sliding occurred, and thanks to the hip and knee padding, I still have two knees and a hip, though my knee got the worst of it; my gloves are banged up, but thanks to the hard plastic knuckles, my hands are in pretty good shape; my jacket is torn up quite a bit, but the shoulder and elbow pads did their job as well and prevented broken bones; and my boots, also worse for wear, prevented sprained or broken ankles, feet, and toes.  Also noteworthy is the fact that I stayed on the road the entire time.  Yes, the jagged, shoddy paving job tore up everything in (or on) its path.  But it's a lot better than fence posts, signposts, boulders, and other miscellaneous objects that litter the side of the road, which would have made for a much more angular and less comfortable outcome.

All in all, I feel incredibly lucky to have walked away (figuratively speaking) from a major accident with only scrapes.  Though I can't really walk now, it'll come in a couple of days.  My bike will be towed to Mt. Isa tomorrow, where the insurance company will make sure it gets fixed.  My gear will also get replaced, thanks to the same insurance policy.  All of the things that are dented, bent, busted up, or not in serviceable shape will be fixed or replaced.  What could not have been replaced in all of this was me.  You talk about an eye-opening experience...this was it.  The few seconds that took place between, "oh, a kangaroo," "no....shiiiiit," and the bike and me careening down a thankfully empty highway could have changed everything.  In fact, those moments probably did change everything, but to be able to walk away from it and tell the story is a feeling for which "sobering" and "thankful," quite frankly, are inadequate descriptors.

That having been said, life must go on.  The adventure must go on.  Once the bike and I are in good enough shape, it's down to Alice Springs and Uluru, and around the rest of the country.  I'll make sure to eat some kangaroo on the way.