I felt like being sick, my head was spinning, never mind that, my body was spinning. A myriad of colours materialised before my eyes, nothing discernible, just impressions like an out of focus photograph and a gradual, but mercifully rapid, grey blackness that left me numb. A slight awareness, can't move, rumbling sensation in my ears, sleep.

More awareness, memory patterns oozing into place. Bike beneath me, fifty miles an hour, clear road, straight country lane in summer sunshine, slight left hand bend coming up, the screen calm. Excitement of being in complete control warming my body, going fast, giving me goose bumps. The tractor wheel tracks, etched brown on black, mud on tarmac. Sleep. I feel cold and try to move to ease the enveloping dampness that comes off a field of grass on a midsummer's evening, but my legs feel like I've been sitting at home on the toilet and reading a comic for too long. I dig my elbows in and lift my head an inch or so, immediately feel dizzy and gag, adrenaline flows and survival instinct synopses snap and I twist sideways to avoid suffocation should I vomit. I remain like this for an indeterminate amount of time, because every time I go to relax the inclination to be sick returns. After a while I realise I'm laying on my back again and relax, my head laid back.

A bright yellow sun is situated just above and to the left of centre of forward vision. I think to myself  'I'm in a field', my hands clench and I feel a soft resistance, damp earth, I think. I want to sit up and see what kind of problems I've got, but I'm scared to sit up in case I'm sick and I feel so weak, so I reach down with my left hand to my knees and encounter solid resistance, the same with the right. A low groan oozes out from between my lips as I realise that the weight on my legs is my bike. I hear a low buzz, traffic. Can anyone see me ? I snap to attention to look round, depression sweeps over me again as my eyes that can see perfectly well vertically, blur the moment I look horizontally. Must have bumped my head ! Best to leave my helmet on. I don't know how long it'll be before someone sees me ! If they can see me ! I've already been asleep and should have been found if anybody had seen me crash. A flag ! I reach round and find something smooth and cylindrical, it feels long, I'll wave my scarf. Tying it on is a bit of a problem as my arms don't move above the elbow but I'm not worried because if they were broken I wouldn't be able to move my fingers at all. My flag upright, I try to wave it but scared of dropping it I only shake it from side to side a little bit. Time passes and it begins to get dark, bedtime.

Morning (?) comes and the sun seems to be in the same position as I last saw it, I must have slept for 24 hours, I check my physical condition and find that nothing has changed. This calls for more desperate measures. A brain wave hits me like and express train. An Air Bag ! If I take my waterproof coat off, I can tie the bottom up with my belt, put a knot in one sleeve and wrap the neck fastening up tight to prevent any air loss, then the spare sleeve I can put over the exhaust pipe and blow it up under the bike. I start to pull my coat sleeve down with my finger tips, it move about half an inch at a time but eventually my hand comes free, the other side takes a bit longer as I'm tired and my lips are dry, so I pluck up some vegetation that feels like fuzz and suck the moisture from it. I tie a knot in my coat sleeve and holding the edge of the sleeve try to slip it over the exposed exhaust pipe. I can get the top part of the sleeve on but the stiffness of the material makes it difficult to get the cuff round the silencer. I finally succeed in getting the silencer inside the sleeve and with release from my prison in sight I lay back to recover my strength and make plans to press the self starter and as I hold the sleeve tight around the exhaust to pull my legs clear of the weight that traps them.

Realisation comes in a wave of panic, the coats arms aren't long enough to put the coat under the bike. A very long time is spent in repositioning the sleeve on the underside exhaust and the strain of it make my head spin, but I'm determined, and eventually everything is in place and I turn the key to get ignition and get a green light along the radio playing. Everything moving slowly now and I feel light headed, I have to plan all my moves in carefully orchestrated stages so I lay back to gather my thoughts and strength. Start the engine whilst holding the coat sleeve tight and as I feel the weight lifting from my legs to release them from beneath the bike.

The radio, tuned to Radio 4, is echoing a woman's voice, a single phrase repeated in the false tones of an actress who has to attach lots of importance to her, all too few, lines. "Come on Mr Joe Public, wake up !" The voice seems to get louder and somehow to have more substance. My eyes flicker and my dream state of lying beneath my bike emerges as my legs are revealed to be held by straps and my upper arms by similar restraints, a white uniformed female appears in my vision, decorated by a professional smile "Come on Mr Joe Public, it's all right, it's all over, relax a moment and we'll have you up and about in two shakes". She releases my restraints and my body seems to float as I gain my release from the dentists chair. My wife apparition appears before me, seated to one side, chatting amicably in her Yorkshire accent to the dental nurse "Ooh yes love, he used to have a motorbike but I rode on it once and I thought it wasn't quite us, so I got him to sell it and get the Volvo, he doesn't really miss it !" I sit myself up from the dentists chair and put aside the supports of the instrument trays and try to re-arrange my shirt sleeves which have become entangled round my hands. "Come on love", says the wife "if we're quick we'll just catch Crossroads".