LYING in his hospital bed, John Bates opened his eyes, reached into the cupboard next to the bed, took out a bottle of orange juice, drank it in one gulp, closed the cupboard door and sank back into unconsciousness. It was the first sign of life he had shown in 14 days. Even then, it was to be another three days before he regained consciousness again.

When he had first been taken to hospital after the accident, his mother was told John was brain dead and would not last. A few minutes later, doctors revised their opinion, and said John was not brain dead, but was brain damaged.

"They were waiting for me to die," says John, still alive 36 years later. "I was given a half a per cent chance of survival. I remember drinking the orange juice but that was it, I was gone again. But that was when they started to give me a chance of survival."

Three days later, after 17 days broken only by that bedside drink, John finally recovered consciousness for good. But that was only the start of a long and painful recovery. He had to learn to walk again and eat again and he has had ongoing problems with his hearing, eyesight, sense of balance, co-ordination, sense of smell and short-term memory. He still uses two sticks to walk.

For years, he has been a number, as a patient going in and out of hospital, for surgery, therapy and rehabilitation but, first of all, as just another statistic in the long line of motorbike casualties.

Sitting in his bungalow in Newton Aycliffe in County Durham, John, now 55, can recall every detail of the lead-up to the accident, on the Friday before the August bank holiday weekend in 1965.

He had first become interested in bikes as a teenager in his home town of Clacton-on-Sea, in Essex, in the 1960s and he bought his first bike at 17 in 1963. The town was the home of the clashes between the bike-riding Rockers and the scooter-borne Mods but, although a leather jacket-wearing Rocker himself, John steered well clear of the violence.

Four months after buying his bike, he was hit by a car which turned right across his path, sending him flying and spraining his wrist. He used the compensation, £170, to put towards his second bike, a BSA 500 Goldstar.

About a year later, he had finished work for the day as a machinist in a local factory, and wanted to test out some work he had done on the bike so took it for a spin. As he returned home, he was passing a pleasure airstrip, just along the road from Butlins holiday camp.

"It was a blind, left-hand corner so I changed down from second to first gear and shut the throttle off, so by the time I got to the corner I was down to 30mph," he says. "I positioned myself on the road to go around the corner and, as I was going into the corner, a car came the opposite way and turned in front of me.

"It turned across the road and I thought: 'That was close'. Then I saw this other car coming towards me and I thought he must have seen me and he was positioned for turning right. The car then swung straight across in front of me.

"I was that close all I could do was lean the bike the opposite way and open up the throttle, hoping something would happen. I was watching the rear of the car and I saw the brake lights come on and then there was total blackness."

John had hit the rear wheel as he tried to get around the car as it turned across him. He found out later he had done two complete somersaults, parted company with the bike and went into thorn bushes which ripped off his shirt and T-shirt. But it was the headfirst impact with the concrete lamp-post which did the damage. Crash investigators found paint from his helmet on the lamp-post, 13ft 9in off the ground. The helmet itself was undamaged and John ended up lying face down on a metal drain cover.

A close friend was among the first on the scene and removed John's helmet as he choked on the strap. But John's eye was so badly swollen, the friend could not identify him to police. It was only after looking at distinctive marks on the bike that anybody could tell who it was, lying there on the drain cover.

"After 17 days, when I came to, I was lying on my left side and I could see somebody on the bed. I just said: 'Where am I? What am I doing here?' They just said I had had a bad accident and I was in hospital. I just said: 'Who am I?' I didn't know who I was.

"The next thing I knew was the pain. My vision was blurred, I had screaming headaches, a whistling in my right ear. My whole body just ached and it sounded as though I was talking through bubbles my speech was so slurred."

Other than the scratches on his arm, the rest of his body escaped virtually unscathed. It was his brain which had been damaged, and that damage was severe.

"My sense of smell and taste was gone, my sense of balance was completely gone, I was staggering about as though I was drunk. I couldn't chew anything because I had squashed my jaw to the verge of breaking it.

"The problems with co-ordination and balance and confusion are still there now. There was a time when it improved but it has deteriorated again. I was determined to fight it and I'm still fighting it. There are a lot of things I can't do but I'm determined to do what I can."

The driver of the other car was never prosecuted. Police said John's concussion meant his evidence could not be relied upon, even though his recollection of events before the accident was always vivid.

He was eventually able to return to work, but a few years later quit his home town to head for the North-East. "Because I had a head injury, people always think there is something not quite right. In my home town people would have nothing to do with me so I wanted to start a new life."

But, ever since the accident, and even though it was not down to any fault on his side, when he sees motorbikes whizzing past, he shudders inside.

"I like to watch motorcycle racing, but they are professionals," he says. "But the youngsters watch the racing and they go and buy themselves powerful motorcycles and try and imitate the professionals. I won't say you are not safe on a motorcycle these days, but so much care has got to be taken. Because of a few moments' carelessness, you can end up in a wheelchair. You never know what is around the corner."

For John, the consequences of the danger around the corner are that he takes 13 different types of tablets, about 28 in all, every day. A routine examination 15 years ago discovered a hole in his skull, caused by tiny crack from the original impact. Surgeons had to lift his brain out of his skull to repair the hole.

But, despite being robbed of a normal life, he is surprisingly free of bitterness. Three years ago, he married Barbara, who had been his carer, and he knows that, without his accident, they would never have met.

"I would not change a day of it because of what I have learned. I can cope with situations. If I'm having a bad day I know tomorrow is going to be better, no matter how bad it is. I will have a go at anything, as far as my limitations take me.

"There is a reason for things that happen and it depends on the people and how they cope with them. The future is not for us to know, you just take each day as it comes. I don't know what a normal life is, I haven't had one for 36 years and I don't want a normal life.

"But I don't want people to become a number like me. I'm a number for going into hospital and I'm a number for the road accidents."