Two Serious Scooter Accidents That Changed How I Ride – Two brutal scooter crashes, and the long road back
There was a short stretch of time, early in my riding life, when I managed to learn some of the hardest lessons possible in the worst possible way.
Both of these scooter accidents happened within just a few months of each other, whilst on my little Yamaha Fino 115cc. The first looked minor at the time, but turned into something far more serious. The second was the biggest crash of my life and left me with injuries that still affect me years later.
Looking back, the two incidents feel connected. Not just because they happened close together, but because together they stripped away any naivety I had about riding, recovery, risk, and the false comfort of thinking, “It’ll be fine.”
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Contents
The First Accident: The one that nearly cost me my foot.
At the end of July 2010, I was riding home along Huay Kaew Road in Chiang Mai, and like many riders here, I was using the far left side of the road to filter past traffic. It’s common, practical, and often the only way to get through when everything is jammed up.
Red Songtaew Passenger Truck
As I was riding along, a red songtaew passenger truck, cut sharply left in front of me to enter a local garage, trapping my leg against his truck and the curb, dragging my scooter along until he finally heard the screams and my horn.
When he backed off and I fell to the ground, the garage staff were already running towards me, who thankfully witnessed the whole thing. An ambulance was called for and the local police turned up, who took witness statements, placing the driver firmly in the wrong.
At first, it didn’t seem catastrophic. My bike was mostly fine. I was upright. I was angry, shaken, and in pain, but it looked like I’d got away with a nasty road rash on the top of my right foot and not much more. I was taken to hospital to have the wound cleaned and dressed. Then, I was taken to the police to file the report.
The Police Report
At the police station, the driver couldn’t look at me.
I could hardly look at him either. I was angry and frustrated.
When the officer asked if I wanted compensation, I declined. I simply told him I hoped the driver would be more careful in future. At that point, I genuinely believed the worst was already behind me.
It wasn’t.
The Infection
Unfortunately, within a day and a half, my foot became massively swollen, pink, and alarming to look at. I went back to hospital and was told I should stay in, but at first I refused and opted for outpatient treatment instead, a decision I would not make again. I was put on an antibiotic drip and told to return the next day. However, the swelling spread and the infection worsened. When I went back again, I was told in no uncertain terms that I had to be admitted.
What had seemed like a simple road injury became a serious infection. The doctors were worried. I was terrified.
The Hospital
There was another unfortunate complication.
When I bought my scooter, I had been told it came with two years of complimentary insurance. I even returned to the Yamaha dealership a year later specifically to check that I was still covered, and was reassured that I was. Unfortunately, that wasn’t true.
The policy actually included one year of accident cover and two years of theft cover. By the time I crashed, my accident insurance had already expired without me realising, leaving me completely uninsured.
That misunderstanding landed me in a busy Thai government hospital ward instead of a private room. As an introvert, this was quite a challenge.
Around the clock I was connected to intravenous antibiotics, but my body simply wasn’t responding. My foot swelled until it barely resembled a foot anymore. At one point the doctor warned if the infection couldn’t be stopped, amputation might have to be considered.
My world was swimming. I could hardly believe this was happening from “just” a scrape.
What Happened Next
Thankfully, after about a week of intensive antibiotics, the infection finally broke. The relief was overwhelming. Unfortunately, by then the infection had already destroyed much of the tissue on the top of my foot. I had to wait for the surgery to be scheduled. When the hospital staff came to wheel me to surgery, I was again warned that if the tissue damage was too deep, I needed to prepare myself for a possible drastic outcome. I honestly didn’t know what I would wake up to after the surgery.
1st Surgery: Debridement
After the debridement surgery, (where the dead tissue was surgically removed), the first thing I did upon waking was to check my foot. I was relieved to find it still attached to me! The nurses saw that I was awake and tried to get me to eat. Despite me refusing, they insisted. Of course, I promptly vomited violently in my bed. I still have no idea why I was required to eat so quickly after surgery.
Over the next few days, my wound was cleaned and monitored, to ensure that no infection was returning.
Thankfully, the wound remained stable.
Afterwards I was connected to a vacuum pump to help the wound heal while waiting for the next stage. What followed became another ordeal.
My skin graft surgery kept being postponed because emergency operations understandably took priority. Days became weeks, and eventually I was allowed home in a cast while waiting for a confirmed surgery date, with strict instructions to keep it dry and limit movement.
When the call finally came, I returned to hospital for the second operation.
2nd Surgery: Skin Graft
When the surgery finally happened, I was so relieved. The wound was covered with a graft taken from my behind. I was sent home with a supporting cast and told not to move too much or get it wet. Then I had to hope that my body accepted the new graft.
The recovery took time at home but thankfully, the graft held and I kept my foot. I now have an odd, island-shaped scar left on my foot to remind me.
⚠️ Lesson from Accident One
In tropical climates especially, even a wound that looks manageable can go bad very quickly. Don’t assume “it’s only road rash.” Don’t ignore swelling. Don’t delay treatment. And if antibiotics are needed, take that seriously.
Looking back, this was perhaps the biggest lesson of the entire ordeal. It wasn’t the crash that nearly cost me my foot. It was the infection afterwards.
The Second Accident: The crash that changed everything
On 18 November 2011, I was out on a scooter tour on my little Yamaha Fino 115cc. I was riding the R1263 Khun Yuam road, a route that at the time shifted abruptly from smooth, flowing tarmac into rough, pothole-ridden, gravelly chaos.
I was already familiar with roads like that in Thailand. The problem was that this one was worse than I expected, and by then I had become very confident on the scooter. I was also with another much more experience rider who was on a manual bike, who was getting rather impatient with me for being slower on my scooter. So, I pushed myself more than I should have, which of course I regret immensely now.
I don’t remember the exact mechanics of the fall. To this day, I still can’t tell you precisely how it happened. I had concussion and lost parts of my memory from the trip, including the previous day. It took years for the lost memories to return, and there are still some pockets of lost time to this day.
What I do know is this: my riding partner later told me all he saw was a cloud of dust, then me lying on the ground some distance away from the bike, unconscious and covered in blood. The visor on my helmet had flipped up, and my face hit and slid across the ground.
Luck, or karma, if you prefer, came through for me that day. A couple happened to pass and took me all the way back to Khun Yuam Hospital. Another passing pickup helped recover the bike. On a quiet road with very few vehicles around, that kind of help was no small thing.
I wish I knew who to thank. I am eternally grateful for their help.
The Hospital
At the hospital, I drifted in and out of consciousness while my wounds were cleaned. My body convulsed from the pain. X-rays were taken, but frustratingly, some of the damage was either missed or misread.
At first I was told nothing was broken. That turned out not to be true.
In the days that followed, it became clear I had far more going on than cuts and swelling. Once I made it back to Chiang Mai and the swelling began to go down, I realised something was badly wrong with my nose and breathing. New X-rays confirmed that my nose was broken and my hand was fractured. Both already beginning to set.
The main injuries from the crash were:
My tongue had been bitten through and stitched. Eating properly was difficult, so I lived on smoothies for a while. My face swelled dramatically. My breathing was wrong. My hand was injured. My confidence was gone.
And then came the nose.
My nose bridge in the photo above, is collapsing inwards.
The Nose Saga
A doctor offered two options: surgery under general anaesthetic, or an outpatient procedure using local injections to re-break it. I chose the latter. Terrible idea.
After multiple Novocaine injections, the doctor manually re-broke my nose in several places. It was horrendous, and in the end, it didn’t work properly anyway. Later I needed further surgery under general anaesthetic, and even that only helped a little. Years on, I still have issues.
The Long Recovery
The physical healing was one thing. The emotional side was another.
After the second crash, I went through a long stretch of pain, hospital visits, recovery at home, and the quiet psychological aftermath that doesn’t always get talked about enough. I was vulnerable, miserable, and honestly pretty broken in spirit for a while.
Once the stitches were out and the main healing began, I did what I could to improve the scarring. I focused on good nutrition, vitamins, massage, and later treatments such as dermarolling and laser for some of the discoloration. I also eventually had filler used on my nose bridge and an indented forehead scar, which helped far more than I expected and made a real difference cosmetically.
Even so, some effects lingered.
Years later, I still have reduced breathing through my nose, numbness in the tip of my tongue, pain in my hand, facial scars, and later hearing loss and tinnitus linked to infection complications from the deviated septum.
That is the part people don’t always see when they hear the words “bike accident.” They imagine the crash, the bandages, maybe a dramatic photo. What they don’t always imagine is the long tail afterwards, the complications, the uncertainty, the repeat hospital visits, the procedures you regret, and the way an accident can keep echoing through your life long after the road dust has settled.
What These Two Accidents Taught Me
Taken together, these two accidents taught me more than any smooth, beautiful ride ever could.
1. Small injuries can become serious
The first crash looked minor. It was not. Infection can move frighteningly fast, especially in hot climates. If something seems wrong, act early.
2. Confidence can quietly turn into complacency
By the time of the second crash, I had started believing I could handle more than I actually could on that bike. (These kinds of scooters are notoriously bad for the kind of riding I was doing). That kind of creeping overconfidence is dangerous.
3. A scooter still deserves full respect
A small bike can lull you into a false sense of ease. Light, nimble machines are brilliant fun, but they still have limitations, especially on rough roads, at speed, or under braking.
4. Recovery is rarely neat
Healing is not always linear, not always graceful, and not always complete. Sometimes the real ordeal begins after the crash itself.
5. Good gear and insurance is paramount
The importance of good motorcycle gear cannot be stressed enough. I am alive because of wearing a helmet. However, a full-faced helmet would have protected my face from the damage that happened. My body was protected by the clothes I was wearing but I was not wearing gloves, which is why my hand sustained damage. Decent insurance also plays a major part if anything happens. The more you have, the better off you will be.
Final Thoughts
These two crashes happened close together, and together they changed the way I ride forever.
They stripped away my illusions. They taught me patience. They taught me caution. They taught me that a “minor” wound can become a medical nightmare, and that a moment of overconfidence on the wrong road can leave consequences that follow you for years.
I still feel lucky. Lucky to have kept my foot. Lucky to still be here. Lucky that the second crash, bad as it was, was not even worse.
So if there is anything useful to take from these stories, let it be this:
Ride within your limits. Respect the road surface. Respect your machine. Do not dismiss injuries too quickly. And never assume that because you have got away with something before, you always will.
Ride safe x
I hope this accident article was helpful.
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