25 January 2025

Great Australian Motorcycle Stories: A Close Shave


As told to Jen Scanlan Kurrajong Heights, NSW

It was one of those very hot days in western Sydney when the tar on the roads starts to melt. The plants droop as you watch and the grass browns before your eyes. The garbage in the gutters seems too tired to move as the traffic swishes by. People's tempers fray quickly and the haze in the air seems to settle on people's minds. On such a day, roadworks and lane closures cause motorists' patience to wear thin.

The heat was providing me with a very busy morning in my job as a paramedic with the Ambulance Service of New South Wales. I had attended a man with chest pains, an old lady who had fallen over in a shopping centre and a child with dehydration. A hectic six and a half hours into my shift, I was sitting in the ambulance station lunchroom, taking a well-earned breather while having a quick bite to eat. As usual the phone rang just as I had settled down to relax; I leapt to answer.

'Cars 986 and 970 on air for a cas under the railway bridge.' motorcycle accident,

Both cars were intensive care ambulances and we responded with the utmost swiftness. Motorcycle accidents are usually serious, so much so that ambos have a nickname for riders: Temporary Australians'. Coming off a bike or into contact with another vehicle with only leathers and a helmet for protection, well, the results are usually not pretty. I recalled previous jobs. I had images of bones piercing through leather and possible paraplegia all running through my mind.

Both cars arriving at the scene in unison, we found a rider and a pillion passenger spread-eagled across the road.

The first patient I reached was the pillion passenger. As an ambo, I am trained to assess things very quickly, taking in many aspects at once. The patient was dressed in skin-tight black leathers, like Catwoman. She was beautiful, drop-dead gorgeous, real model material, with blonde hair and vivid blue eyes, still looking good despite the accident. She was even wearing high-heeled boots and a gold chain around her neck. adding to her movie-star appearance. It was a hot day and she was hot, alright! The ambos from the other car were equally quick with their assessment and the senior officer directed me to the other patient.

So over I went to the male rider. He was dressed in tight black leathers too with his helmet still in place. If she was Catwoman, this young bloke must have been Batman. My impression was confirmed by a quick glance at his bike-a bright red Ducati 1098 Superbike. The two had been ejected from the bike and were spread between a series of three concrete barriers that had been erected to close the lane.

With the police guiding traffic, it was safe to attend to my patient where he lay. After my initial assessment for obvious injuries and his level of consciousness, I asked the rider whose name was Ryan, 'Where does it hurt?

Ryan's responses were: 'Is my girlfriend okay?' 'Is my bike okay?' and 'My balls are on fire!' In that order.

'What happened?' I asked.

The two lanes were merging because of the lane closure. I was in the left lane, heading for the barriers. This car wouldn't let me in; he just wouldn't give way although he could see me quite clearly The lane was about to end so I kicked the car's side passenger door. Then the lane ran out and I hit the concrete barrier with the bike. We were catapulted over the handlebars -I snagged the bars on the way over.'

Ryan was lying behind the first barrier, but his girlfriend had been hurled over the second barrier. I started checking him from head to toe and repeated, 'Where does it hurt?'

He again said, 'My balls are on fire!'

After removing Ryan's helmet and checking his spine. I applied a collar to his neck. Even though we were under the railway bridge, the tar was so hot we put him on a spine board, then loaded him onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. While I was certain that there was no spinal damage, I explained that I needed to remove his leathers to continue assessing his injuries. He begged me not to cut his leathers as I carefully took off his jacket. Three times he pleaded, 'Don't cut my leathers!' I really struggled to get him out of his tight pants without cutting them, but after a mammoth effort I finally did so he was ever so grateful. Underneath, his T-shirt and shorts needed cutting off, revealing a pair of magnificent satin boxers. They were red, to match his Ducati.

After removing his clothing. I noticed that he was as hairy as, from neck to toe, amazingly hairy by anyone's standards. He appeared not to have any other injuries; neck, chest and arms were all clear. Ryan was still complaining that his balls were on fire, so I put it to him delicately: "Then I'll need to have a look at your fire pit, mate.'

When I sliced off his red satin boxer shorts, a look of astonishment must have come over my face, because Ryan gasped, 'What's the matter? What's wrong?'

'Nothing, mate, everything's in place ... one, two, three. No swelling at this stage, just a bit of bruising starting to show.' I hesitated. 'Just one question: do you wax or shave?'

Ryan was as bald as a badger, as smooth as a baby's bottom, from bellybutton to mid-thigh. His response stopped me in my tracks. 'Neither! My girlfriend waxes me 'cause it turns her on.' His jewels were obviously her pride and joy!

I was intrigued. In all my years in the ambulance service I had seen a few Brazilians, but never had I come across an explanation like this. I chuckled to myself for the next 20 minutes, the time it took to transport Ryan to hospital and He again said, 'My balls are on fire!'

After removing Ryan's helmet and checking his spine. I applied a collar to his neck. Even though we were under the railway bridge, the tar was so hot we put him on a spine board, then loaded him onto a stretcher and into the back of the ambulance. While I was certain that there was no spinal damage, I explained that I needed to remove his leathers to continue assessing his injuries. He begged me not to cut his leathers as I carefully took off his jacket. Three times he pleaded, 'Don't cut my leathers!' I really struggled to get him out of his tight pants without cutting them, but after a mammoth effort I finally did so he was ever so grateful. Underneath, his T-shirt and shorts needed cutting off, revealing a pair of magnificent satin boxers. They were red, to match his Ducati.

After removing his clothing. I noticed that he was as hairy as, from neck to toe, amazingly hairy by anyone's standards. He appeared not to have any other injuries; neck, chest and arms were all clear. Ryan was still complaining that his balls were on fire, so I put it to him delicately: "Then I'll need to have a look at your fire pit, mate.'

When I sliced off his red satin boxer shorts, a look of astonishment must have come over my face, because Ryan gasped, 'What's the matter? What's wrong?'

'Nothing, mate, everything's in place ... one, two, three. No swelling at this stage, just a bit of bruising starting to show.' I hesitated. 'Just one question: do you wax or shave?'

Ryan was as bald as a badger, as smooth as a baby's bottom, from bellybutton to mid-thigh. His response stopped me in my tracks. 'Neither! My girlfriend waxes me 'cause it turns her on.' His jewels were obviously her pride and joy!

I was intrigued. In all my years in the ambulance service I had seen a few Brazilians, but never had I come across an explanation like this. I chuckled to myself for the next 20 minutes, the time it took to transport Ryan to hospital and hand him over to the nursing staff. By then, his pride in his girlfriend's handiwork had grown to the point where he loudly informed the nursing staff, 'My girlfriend waxes me!'

Following the handover, I met up with the other crew, who happily related that after thoroughly and carefully checking over their stunning Catwoman patient, she was uninjured. Some people get all the breaks.

Looking back, I realised that Ryan and his girlfriend got a break too. They got to be Australian residents for hopefully a lot longer. But when I went home and made a suggestion about waxing to my wife, it didn't turn out quite as well Happy waxing, Ryan, and take it easy on that Duke.


Extract from:
Great Australian Motorcycle Stories
By: John Bryant
ISBN: 9780733332661
ISBN-10: 0733332668
Published: 1st August 2014
Format: Paperback

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