Read about Ben Felten’s incredible talents

FROM DIAGNOSIS AT 15 TO COMPLETE BLINDNESS AT 37, LIFE WITHOUT SIGHT IS NOT HOLDING BACK BEN FELTEN IN ANY WAY.

In our line of work, it’s normal to write a half-dozen stories each day. It’s average to research and interview people a dozen times a week. It’s common to talk with a myriad of business-owners about their work.

What’s not so common, however, is finding a story that has the ability to change your life.

It’s a cold afternoon in the windy CBD when I meet Ben Felten under the sanctuary of a heater at Walton Stores.

It’s easy to forget that Ben has no sight at all — he gestures vividly with his hands as he speaks and looks at you directly as one would expect from a sighted person — and it’s common for him to meet people who don’t realise at first.

“People go ‘oh s***’, how much can that guy really see?’ And then I say

‘well actually, I’m black in both eyes’ and they go ‘oh, you’re crazy!’ Well actually, I’m not,” Ben laughs.

But that’s not the half of what has people astonished when they realise Ben is blind.

In March last year, he officially became the world’s fastest blind motorcycle rider – achieving an average speed of 272km/h on a salt lake in outback South Australia during Speed Week.

But how do you set a record of that calibre when you can’t see what’s in front of you?

“I have a navigator – Kevin Magee, former Motogp racer and Fox Sports commentator,” Ben explains.

“Kevin has another motorcycle and he rides along behind me, and we use radio; so he has a little microphone in his helmet and I wear earplugs.

“When he’s telling me ‘left’ and ‘right’, he’s giving me two bits of information: one is direction, and the other one is the duration and how long I need to steer.

“So, when I’m steering down the course, I actually don’t steer with the handlebars; I steer with my feet and foot pressure — so when [Kevin] says ‘right’ I know to give a little dab with my right thigh, and if it’s ‘riiiiiiiight’ then I push with my right thigh and hold it there until he stops.”

Deceptively simple, but it’s taken lots and lots of practise to get to this point.

That being said, Ben had time to prepare and practise for life without sight — while he was diagnosed with Retinitis Pigmentosa at 15 after a cycling accident, he wasn’t rendered completely blind until the age of 37.

“The prognosis was that I was going to go blind — it might happen in a month’s time, a year’s time, or 50 years’ time; no-one knows, it’s not consistent,” Ben says.

“So, at 15-and-a-half, I’d just passed the entrance exam and joined the Australian Navy, wanted to become a marine engineer — all my hopes and dreams were dashed.

“But my eyesight was perfect, and I continued racing motorcycles [and

‘‘ “My blindness in one sense has really been a blessing — yes, it’s weird to say, but it’s true.”

driving] until I was 25.”

At 32, the left eye went.

And at 37, the right eye went. “[One] morning I heard the birds chirping so I thought ‘oh, it’s time to get up’; jumped out of bed and walked to the lounge room, threw the curtains open and I went ‘oh it’s still dark out!’ so I closed the curtains and went back to bed,” Ben recalls.

“Next minute, I heard all the birds chirping again so I walked back out but it was still dark, yet I could hear the birds chirping.

“So, I put my face up to the window and I could feel sunlight warming on my face but I couldn’t see a thing.”

While it did happen suddenly and was frightening, Ben describes the experience overall as one of relief.

“Shock for about 30 seconds, then I felt relieved – it’s finally happened,” he says.

“Here I am, and I finally have stability for the first time in my life.”

Ben went from a recluse (too afraid to go out), to travelling everywhere alongside his seeing eye dog, Orson.

Despite this positive outlook, Ben didn’t walk away from the traumatic experience unscathed, and mental health has become another passion of his as a result.

“I had to deal with trauma for a very long time, and that took a toll on my health,” he says.

“With mental health, coping with that transition [of becoming blind] is really difficult, and some people never come to terms with it.”

Wanting to help others, Ben helped establish the charity ‘In Sight of Dreams’, which supports people living with an acquired disability with their mental health and life in general.

“See, people understand the blind thing — ‘oh you poor guy’ and ‘I’d hate to go blind’ — so people empathise with that quite well,” Ben says.

“But if you’re a normal-looking person with a mental health issue, sometimes people think you can’t see it, you can’t know it; there’s that stigma around mental health.”

As if all this wasn’t inspirational enough, Ben has also participated in rowing and cricket, and a documentary about his life and experiences will be released later this year.

“I’m doing all this stuff for two reasons,” Ben explains.

“First, is the selfish one — I get a thrill out of riding motorbikes and I love it,” he says.

“But the more important thing is, I have a legacy — and what I want to try and do is develop positive attitudes about what people can do; not just people with disabilities, but what anyone can do.

“So, by me getting out there and sharing my story, walking the walk and doing my stuff, I’m hoping to inspire and motivate people to make the most out of every day and every opportunity.

“You can achieve anything you want to in life if you’re willing to work hard enough for it.”