My frailties have found me out. It wasn’t the 6 hours out in the rain. It wasn’t the aching back caused by riding in a rucksack. It wasn’t my poor night vision (now resolved by extra Touratech riding lights).
It’s the BMW thumb dance.
Both my observers spotted the problems I was having cancelling the indicators and (helpfully both being on GSs – I like to be co-ordinated) showed me how they did it – a sideways stretch of the thumb, and a flick of the swith with the knuckle.
Which would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that my right thumb reaches about half an inch less far than my left, thanks to the two-inch scar across my palm where “keyhole surgery” mitigated my RSI five years ago. (GOK what key the surgeon had in mind, maybe this one —>) and it doesn’t actually reach the edge of the switch. So to cancel the indicators I had to resort to an awkward circular wiggle and push.
Nerves are strange things and it doesn’t take much to upset them – one of the reasons I prefer a bike to a car is that holding a steering wheel triggers the pain, while holding a throttle doesn’t.
I live in denial of my physical limitations. But yesterday’s thumb dance has left me today with an arm on fire from fingertip to shoulder.
The Arthritis people have a bleak joke. Arthritis, they say, won’t kill you – it will just take your life. That’s pretty much where I am this morning – I have bought a motorcycle perfect in every regard – except that I might not be able to ride it safely because of something that went wrong for me years and years ago.
Perhaps indicating is over-rated. Hand signals, anyone?