Having the courage of my conviction
Contemplating cake or death
So, there I was, teetering on the edge of a steep drop, facing backwards with Skylark held at a precarious angle. My next move was going to be crucial - would it be lunch or death? It was, as Eddie Izzard eloquently explains in his stand-up show (1), a ‘cake or death’ moment - that of having two extreme choices, with a side-order of pain.
So what brought me to this? Well, I offered to check out a piece of land for a friend. It’s located somewhere up in the mountains behind Sanremo, just a 15 minute ride away, on very very small roads and tracks. As normal, I got lost (doh, … not again!). Eventually I found the right road, winding itself ever higher and higher. Becoming ever smaller and smaller, it finally degraded into ruts, impacted earth and stones. But this would be no problem as Skylark is an enduro bike, so it’s got knobbly tyres and raised mudguards to easily cope with off-road riding. I turned a corner, up a steep gradient and stopped at a fork in the road, putting my left foot down, to decide which turn to take. Slowly, very slowly, I realised the world under me was slipping forward and, with rising panic, I noticed we were sliding backwards. Skylark, was pressing at an obscure angle against my left leg while I made weird hopping motions, trying to keep us upright. And, what I didn’t appreciate was that our angle of trajectory had changed and I was slipping backwards towards the edge of the road. The only thing separating Skylark and me from a 40 or 50 feet drop was an insignificant rusty 3-wire fence. The edge was coming ever closer, I wasn’t stopping, and it was all becoming a bit of a blur. Just at the very last moment, as the back wheel got to the lip of the road, the world stopped moving.
I rested, still holding the bike at such a weird angle. I can’t get off without it immediately falling on me, with the possibility of also running back over the edge. The engine was still running, and I was holding it on the clutch. Very, very slowly I heaved it off my leg into an upright position and took in my dilemma.
So, what had happened? I took a little time to reflect. There was a huge patch of concrete covering the entirety of the road, and it was covered by loose shale and stones. My wheels seemed to have caught a couple of the larger stones which had started skating on the concrete surface and got lodged in my tyres. I was completely without control, like when driving a car on ice. No ability to change direction, and no ability to get traction.
The last time I remember an incident like this was when I was about 10, exploring a disused quarry close to where I was living, near Axbridge in Somerset. There was a particularly interesting quartz cave high up the quarry face, and easily accessible, which served as a den of sorts (or at least a lookout to spy those pesky Indians - we liked playing cowboys and Indians at the time). Below this cave was a patch of smooth rock with a descending angle of about 30°, covered in shale, and my exploration into this zone was, I think, the first time I had a cake or death moment. I mean, I was 300 feet or so from the quarry floor, scrabbling with my hands and feet to try and stop my slow descent towards a very imminent edge. Now that was an interesting situation to be in. My movement eventually slowed as I scrabbled to grab at patches of surface without stones and I gingerly picked a route to safety.
Back to the present day, I judged that dismounting Skylark while teetering at the road edge was not an option - the attitude of the bike with the road was completely wrong. I did judge however, that my next manoeuvre would dictate my long term future - get back for lunch, or possible death or serious injury. I figured if the stone was still lodged under my tyres then I couldn’t pussy-foot around, I didn’t want to start sliding again (obvs!). I needed to get some very quick forward acceleration. So there’s nothing for it but to try and ride out of this situation. So I needed the courage of my conviction. I hoped I was still in first gear (still held on the clutch). I yanked open the throttle, dropped the clutch and within an instant I was careening towards the other side of the road, driving again on loose mud and shale on concrete. Yeah! - I quickly regained control and composure, and kept forwards momentum all the way up to safer ground. I took time to rest a bit, and stop shaking.
“Nice ride?” Corrine enquired as I walked in the door an hour later.
“Yes” I said, “rather interesting … what’s for lunch?”
(there was no cake 🤔)
(1) ‘cake or death’ - check out Eddie Izzard’s Dressed to Kill video on YouTube - a brilliant comedienne.
About me
My name is David Bell and I’m an artist living in Sanremo, Italy. I write this blog for my band of supporters, giving an insight to my art and life generally living on the beautiful Riviera of Flowers, … and eating cake.
Ciao4now … alla prossima.
It wasn't time for the cake yet. Quite an exiting story, I was with you there on the edge all the time, when while reading it. Take care, life is precious.
Thanks Anneli 🤗 🏍️ 🍰