the_wes
Grey Hound
- Joined
- Jan 10, 2007
- Messages
- 8,751
- Reaction score
- 0
- Location
- Brackenfell, Cape Town
- Bike
- Harley Davidson (all models)
Yesterday Celéste and I decided that we'd spent way too little time together over the last while, and, come 11h30, we were on the bike and on our way. The route promised to be tar most of the way - all we were after was a lesiurely cruise - we headed out to Franschhoek, over the pass, down to Theewaterskloof, and on to Grabouw. The weather was fantastic, albeit a little nippy, and the Dakar relished the opportunity to hit the tar for a change, flicking gracefully in and out of turns on the passes.
It was after Grabouw that we decided to hit the Highlands road to Kleinmond, figuring that we'd follow the coast home afterwards. As we swooped through yet another bend, we came across 3 men in the middle of the road. As we rapidly approached it became shockingly apparent that 2 of the men were attacking the 3rd...
Just after passing them I slowed down to investigate - the victim was running towards us, arms outstretched as if to cry for help, his attackers in tow. I was faced with a dilemna - continue on, or stay and risk danger (I had spotted a brick/rock in the road during the incident and feared it being hurled at us). I rode on, and then turned around and headed back, deciding that I would keep enough distance to be out of brick range, yet close enough to monitor the situation and possibly scare the attackers away. As the scene came back into view, however, the attack had concluded - the attackers were in the distance, casually heading through a farm, and the victim was staggering towards us in the middle of the road.
I parked and dismounted - as he approached, I noticed that he was covered in blood. I took a closer look and realised that he had suffered a massive blow to the side of the head - probably from the brick/rock. He sat down and collapsed onto his back in the middle of the road, sobbing. Myself and a French tourist helped him out of the road to the side. Celéste decided to phone the police - luckily at that point some locals passed by and - once we had explained that the man had been attacked and we had not hit him with our motorcycle - gave us the local police station's number. Celéste phoned for a squad car and ambulance while I attended to the man.
The man was bleeding profusely - he was covered in blood, so much so that I couldn't tell where it was all coming from...
"Waar is jy seer?"
"My kop"
"Net jou kop?"
"Ja meneer"
"Hulle'd jou nie iewers gesteek nie?"
"Nee meneer, net my kop"
I know nothing about first aid, but I decided that I needed to do something to at least slow down the blood. I tore my buff open and wrapped it as tightly as I could around his head - it obviously didn't stop the bleeding but it helped. We had 2 bottles of water with us - I gave him the one and told him "drink" so as to keep him hydrated. I told him to close his eyes and pored the other bottle over his face to clear the blood. I spoke to him as much as I could to keep him upright - "daai mense, hulle sien my daar drink, dan hulle wil my geld steel, hoekom" - I looked in his hand where he was clutching a few coins and notes - not much.
We phoned again - "please make sure the ambulance gets here soon, this man is losing a lot of blood". Eventually the cops arrived, but not before some locals stopped. One of them spoke the man, and found out who the attackers were. Luckily the man knows the area, and could tell the police what farm the attackers worked on - he pointed, it was the same direction I saw the men heading off to.
The ambulance arrived and attended to the man. We said our goodbyes and kitted up. By the time I was in 3rd gear tears were streaming down my face. I still don't know why. Perhaps the absolute lack of humanity I had been faced with - how 2 men would beat a man near to death for a few rands and then simply walk away. Perhaps the shock of watching a desperate man near bleed to death. Or perhaps the words he said to the policeman just before the ambulance arrived:
"As dit nie vir daai wit man was nie, is ek nou dood. As nie for hom nie is ek nou met Jesus".
Perhaps his gratitude, perhaps the fact that he was certain of where he was going if he didn't make it. I don't know. All I know is as I road home via Kleinmond, some of the most beautiful scenery the Cape has to offer, I was numb to it, numb to the mountains, the beautiful ocean, the whale we saw. What's the use of it all if God paints this beautiful picture for us to enjoy, yet we can't treat each other with love and respect. What's the point of my job, my bike, the house I live in, if a man had bled to death this day?
We don't know what tomorrow holds. We might not be here anymore. So enjoy it, ride as often as you can, and always, always stop to help.
It was after Grabouw that we decided to hit the Highlands road to Kleinmond, figuring that we'd follow the coast home afterwards. As we swooped through yet another bend, we came across 3 men in the middle of the road. As we rapidly approached it became shockingly apparent that 2 of the men were attacking the 3rd...
Just after passing them I slowed down to investigate - the victim was running towards us, arms outstretched as if to cry for help, his attackers in tow. I was faced with a dilemna - continue on, or stay and risk danger (I had spotted a brick/rock in the road during the incident and feared it being hurled at us). I rode on, and then turned around and headed back, deciding that I would keep enough distance to be out of brick range, yet close enough to monitor the situation and possibly scare the attackers away. As the scene came back into view, however, the attack had concluded - the attackers were in the distance, casually heading through a farm, and the victim was staggering towards us in the middle of the road.
I parked and dismounted - as he approached, I noticed that he was covered in blood. I took a closer look and realised that he had suffered a massive blow to the side of the head - probably from the brick/rock. He sat down and collapsed onto his back in the middle of the road, sobbing. Myself and a French tourist helped him out of the road to the side. Celéste decided to phone the police - luckily at that point some locals passed by and - once we had explained that the man had been attacked and we had not hit him with our motorcycle - gave us the local police station's number. Celéste phoned for a squad car and ambulance while I attended to the man.
The man was bleeding profusely - he was covered in blood, so much so that I couldn't tell where it was all coming from...
"Waar is jy seer?"
"My kop"
"Net jou kop?"
"Ja meneer"
"Hulle'd jou nie iewers gesteek nie?"
"Nee meneer, net my kop"
I know nothing about first aid, but I decided that I needed to do something to at least slow down the blood. I tore my buff open and wrapped it as tightly as I could around his head - it obviously didn't stop the bleeding but it helped. We had 2 bottles of water with us - I gave him the one and told him "drink" so as to keep him hydrated. I told him to close his eyes and pored the other bottle over his face to clear the blood. I spoke to him as much as I could to keep him upright - "daai mense, hulle sien my daar drink, dan hulle wil my geld steel, hoekom" - I looked in his hand where he was clutching a few coins and notes - not much.
We phoned again - "please make sure the ambulance gets here soon, this man is losing a lot of blood". Eventually the cops arrived, but not before some locals stopped. One of them spoke the man, and found out who the attackers were. Luckily the man knows the area, and could tell the police what farm the attackers worked on - he pointed, it was the same direction I saw the men heading off to.
The ambulance arrived and attended to the man. We said our goodbyes and kitted up. By the time I was in 3rd gear tears were streaming down my face. I still don't know why. Perhaps the absolute lack of humanity I had been faced with - how 2 men would beat a man near to death for a few rands and then simply walk away. Perhaps the shock of watching a desperate man near bleed to death. Or perhaps the words he said to the policeman just before the ambulance arrived:
"As dit nie vir daai wit man was nie, is ek nou dood. As nie for hom nie is ek nou met Jesus".
Perhaps his gratitude, perhaps the fact that he was certain of where he was going if he didn't make it. I don't know. All I know is as I road home via Kleinmond, some of the most beautiful scenery the Cape has to offer, I was numb to it, numb to the mountains, the beautiful ocean, the whale we saw. What's the use of it all if God paints this beautiful picture for us to enjoy, yet we can't treat each other with love and respect. What's the point of my job, my bike, the house I live in, if a man had bled to death this day?
We don't know what tomorrow holds. We might not be here anymore. So enjoy it, ride as often as you can, and always, always stop to help.
