I was riding my motorbike home from the Qld Uni one rainy day, when I tried to turn a corner in some loose gravel in front of the Regatta Hotel. The right hander after the left habder that leads into the big loop.

When I stopped sliding, and watching the horrified face of the lady driver behind me - who stopped in time - I noticed that I had come to a rest in fornt of three police cars on their way back for change of shift.

The nice policeman came up to me and asked three questions:

1) Are you OK?

2) Have you been drinking?

3) Can you still ride?

Answers:

1) I think so....

2) No - (I had one beer over a period of a few hours before)...

3) I think so....

so they happily dragged the bike over to the side of the road and put it on the side stand and vannished in three puffs of smoke (it was change of shift you know!)...

I was having a little difficulty walking, but I felt less stunned, so I tried to kick start the bike, and discovered that the right foot didn't seem to have any power...

Fortunately the road was on a slight downhill slope, so I clutch started the bike, and rode about 5 miles to my mother's place where I was staying at the time. Getting the leather boot off was when I realised that something was not quite right...

She got me to RBH just before the X-ray closed for the night (this would have been about 1978) and it was confirmed after some hours that the ankle was broken. I won't go into the interesting things that happened there while I was waiting, such as the drug crazed guy with the knife, or anything else like that... but those TV ER shows are often pretty tame :-)

Robin