The Isle of Man Tourist Trophy (TT) is unlike any other motorsport event on Earth. It boasts more history, is more challenging and has claimed more lives than any other motorcycle race, period. In the 108 years since the inaugural races were held, the island's daunting Mountain Course—spanning 37 and 3/4 miles with over 200 bends of public roads lined with trees, rock walls, hedges, pubs and people—has claimed close to 250 souls. Though without exception each year dozens of the world's top riders and thousands of deeply dedicated fans descent upon the small island for a chance at witnessing, and making, history.
One individual who knows the ups and downs of the TT like few others is William Dunlop of Northern Ireland, elder brother of the outspoken TT winner Michael, son of 5 time TT winner Robert, and nephew of legendary TT racer Joey Dunlop—both his father and uncle lost their lives while racing in 2000 and 2008, respectively. Motorcycle racing is in his blood and soul. And exactly two weeks ago, on Monday June 8, William went down at well over 100 miles-per-hour while practicing for the Superstock race. Though on this day, luck was on his side. To learn just what it felt like to crash on the legendary TT course, we recently got William on the horn. Here it is, in his own words.
I was going over a hundred miles an hour—I'd say between 100 and 120 mph—and when it happened I felt the front tire folding on me. It folded for a long time and all of a sudden it looked like it was going to save itself, but it let go. It was kind of a slow one—I knew it was happening but then when it did let go it happened so quick. And from then on you're kind of helpless—there's nothing you can do.
I knew that stretch of the road has high walls so when I seen what was happening I knew I was going to hit it. Lucky enough I wasn't actually in the corner (I didn't expect to ever have a crash at that point) so when I crashed the brick wall wasn't head on. It was such a fast crash I was just expecting the worst to be honest with you. It's a unique feeling, being so helpless and not knowing what's going to happen. I remember lying on my back looking at the wall [as I slid] but I hit it at an angle and that's probably why I'm still here today.
The section I crashed in is a hard area to be about in, so it's hard for the course marshals, as they have to run from quite a distance. Because the TT doesn't use red flags (it's more of a 'tough luck' sort of thing if you know what I mean) I was lying in the middle of the road waiting for someone to come. I could hear other riders going past, and even if they've slowed they're still going so fast. It was quite scary—you're lying there and feel quite alone because there's no one around. I think that was probably the scariest bit, not the actual impact, it was the lying there with no one helping you.
I felt like I was lying there for half an hour—maybe it was just 15 minutes but it felt too long. I wanted to hurry up and get to the hospital to see a doctor because there were so many thoughts in my head. But I'm scared of flying, so being in the helicopter wasn't nice.
I'm really lucky I wear the best leathers money can buy, otherwise it could have been a bit worse. I came away with a broken rib and a bit of bruising, which is nothing. I just can't believe how lucky I am that I walked away with such a small injury for what it was. I've got somebody looking after me for sure.
* This article is part of The Code, an editorial partnership between Popular Mechanics and Ford F-150.
