Prelude

Some things in life take a lot of thought while others take a lot of planning. Unfortunately, there is another category which requires a lot of healing. Such was my trip to Mexico.

In February 2002 I set off to meet my friend Mike in San Antonio for the trip south. To say it was cold would be an understatement. I could not stay at freeway speeds due to the wind chill even though I was wearing full electrics.

Onto the back roads I went and this proved to be too literal. In Niceville, Florida, a not so nice pickup driver tried to defy the laws of physics by occupying the same space I was. Even though he failed to stop at the stop sign, the local law enforcement didn't see a problem. There was no contact because I was on the brakes so hard, too hard and the bike went down. I remember seeing his bumper as I tumbled by.

My body was telling me that there was a problem, but my brain was telling me to forget it. I didn't want to ruin Mike's vacation so I got on the bike and went to a motel for the night. If everything was okay the next day I'd push through to San Antonio where I would meet Mike..

About 6 hours later it was clear that several things were wrong. A trip to the emergency ward revealed a badly broken leg and hand. The pain from the injuries was compounded by the fact that I was 400 miles from home and I could no longer meet Mike. There was no way I could ride home. I take that back, I would be an idiot to try to ride home.

Thank goodness for my buddy Forrest. Without hesitation he drove up from Orlando to pick up the bike and myself and get us home. He helped me through the healing along with several other friends. You don't feel you're single with friends like these.

Here it is a year later and that same friend and I have our bikes loaded on a trailer for a gonzo run to Eagle Pass, Texas.