Crashing Sucks

Well, after riding 2 years and over 20,000 miles, I crashed my bike.

June 26, 1998. 13:38pm, milepost 190.42 on I-5 Southbound, near the Everett Mall exit, according to the official WSP report.

Vehicle #1 was southbound Interstate 5 occupying lane #1 of 3. Vehicle #1 observed traffic slowing and attempted to apply her brakes. When she applied her brakes she lost control. Driver exited motorcycle & fell to ground, vehicle #1 continued sliding south as it came to rest on the shoulder."

A tumble and roll, with a hard landing. I broke my collarbone and hit my head hard enough to knock me out for about 20 minutes. Yes, I was wearing a helmet. My leathers did their job, too. Not a scratch on me, but my jacket has a few scars and one hole.

I have been to the Otherside. There is a beautiful place waiting for us all, and what you do in this life comes back to you. The only time you have is now, because you do not know when your time will come. Enuff 'bout dat for now.

** Update August, 2003. Well, I did it again. Crashed again. This time, it was a combination of bad roadway and catastrophic equipment failure. Hit a dip in the road (actually, 4 of them in 650 feet), and the front fork springs and right rear shock failed. Despite my efforts, chaos and gravity won out. Ouch! Falling down hurts. Gotta stop that.