Shield That Noggin!

Over the weekend, the 27th annual Fall Ride motorcycle rally was held in Tomahawk. Organizers were expecting 30 to 40 thousand bikes to be in attendance, and Fred and I would have gone if we hadn't had other plans.
On my way to Elk Mound Friday and again on the way back here Sunday, I saw hundreds of bikes on highways 51 and 29, making the trip to and from the rally. I started noticing how few of the bikers were wearing helmets. Long hair streaming, some with do-rags, men and women alike; I'd estimate 75% or more had forgone protective headgear in favor of riding wild and free.
Fred and I always wear helmets when we ride. I don't have any statistics, but even with a helmet, I'm not optimistic about avoiding serious injury or worse in an accident. However, the helmet is the one thing giving me hope that we would; without one, I picture a rider's head splitting open on the road like an overripe melon.
I know why people don't like to wear them. They can be hot, and mine makes my head itch. It's a bother taking it off/putting it back on every time you stop. The face shield made me claustrophobic, so I took that off almost immediately. Feeling the wind blow through your hair can be liberating--but then, having your head in one piece can be too.
When I read the newspapers or hear on the news that someone has been killed on a motorcycle, the story usually adds a postscript: "The victim was--or was not--wearing a helmet." More often than not, he or she wasn't.
I'm born to be wild, but I also value my round head and the brain cells I have left. So even if I look dorky, you'll always see me in my bright red helmet when I'm on the bike--whether it's a short ride or a long one.
Be safe out there!