Revelation...

Took a long motorcycle ride yesterday afternoon as a reward for suriving kid duty all weekend without selling either of them to the gypsies (is it just my two, or is there something in the air that is causing kids to go completely nucking futs these days???).

Intentionally aimed for NH (Live Free or Die, baby) so I could put the helmet in the saddlebag and enjoy the wind on my skull.

As I reflected on the choice (yeah, we can still make those, for now) to go lid-less for a change (and it was all backroads at 30-40MPH, no highway), I started thinking about a biker truism:

There are two types of bikers: Those that have crashed, and those that are going to crash.

(It's very similar to gunnies and negligent discharges).

As I watched the oncoming car with the left directional on with a suspicious eye, I started wondering if I was about to join the first group (I didn't; the car apparently did see me).

And then it hit me: I've had my crash. It was on a scooter, but it was still a crash...

I was 15 years old, too young for a driver's license, when my parents allowed me to purchase a 50 cc scooter (technically a moped, as it had pedals). IIRC, it was an ancient Motobecane with a top-mounted tank, resulting in a moped that looked like a little teeny motorcycle. In fact, I once got stopped by a registry cop who wanted to know why I wasn't wearing a helmet (wasn't needed for a moped/schooter) and insisted I show him that the bike could be pedaled. Oh yeah, lots of fun there - it's apparently geared to scale Mt. Everest...

So I'm puttering along down a recently paved back road. There's about a 3-4" drop on the side of the road where the new pavement begins (y'all can see where this is going, right?). A car approaches from behind. I move over to the right as far as I can...

...which was about an inch too far, because I dropped off the actual pavement and into the rough gravel on the side of the road...

Fortunately, the car sped around me as I bounced and jounced over the sand, dirt, and rocks, because I hit a boulder the size of Godzilla and wound up doing a double somersault into the road. At one point I think the moped achieved low-earth orbit.

Did I mention that I was wearing shorts, a tank top, and boat shoes at the time???

Somehow, by the grace of G-d, I had the presence of mind to tuck my head in to my chest as I rolled down the freshly-laid asphalt (which is r-o-u-g-h, thankyewverymuch). My head never actually touched the ground.

My arms and legs, however, didn't do so well - road rash in a bad way running up and down the fronts and backs of both arms, both legs, hands, back, shoulder blades; pretty much every piece of exposed skin I possessed (and the way it hurt, I think it actually imported extra skin for good measure).

So that's my crash story. Not as dramatic as many others, but it's mine.

(Of course, there was also the time I got off my Yamaha and forgot to put the kickstand down... But that was a crash only in the sense of the noise the bike made when it hit the parking lot...)

That is all...