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What it's Like to Crash a Motorcycle

“Damn it. John Burns thinks I’m a dick.”
That was one of the predominant thoughts going through my head as I slid down a Florida highway at 60 mph back in March.
It’s weird how the mind works. Time slows in a crash. Every tiny image burns into memory, so your brain can replay it over and over and over at night for the next who knows how many weeks.
In the moments before I crashed, I was riding the Harley-Davidson Street Rod along County Road 34 in central Florida. I’m not sure which county. The accident report simply records it as “County Code 61,” but the internet can’t agree on which county that is. Maybe I was in Indian River County; maybe I was in Suwannee County; maybe I was in Flagler County; I don’t know. I guess it doesn’t matter; I was somewhere. The road passing through that somewhere was long and straight – not the sort of place where one usually crashes – and the weather was perfect.

“My God, I am so happy,” I was thinking. “I am so incredibly lucky to be here – to live t…

Oh, uhm, Merry Christmas, by the way

Sunset on Bodmin Moor.
Things on the ol' blog have been relatively quiet these past several days because Jenn and I were out in the wilds of Cornwall. Which is about as wild as one can get in the overpopulated mess of southwestern England. We were staying in a cottage on Bodmin Moor, the bleak nowhere made famous by Daphne du Maurier's novel Jamaica Inn. The roads were only wide enough for a single car and mobile phone signal was non-existant.

It was only when we were out hiking the tors (craggy rocks that serve as promontories on the moors) did my phone grasp just enough signal to alert me to comments on my previous post about the downfall of RideApart. I genuinely appreciate the fact that Wes took the time to leave a comment, even if it was snarky and insulting. Be valuable, indeed.

Perhaps it was for the best that signal was too scarce for me to reply. At the time I had a fair few snarky and insulting things I wanted to say in response but now, meh, I don't care. I feel morally superior enough in the fact that, whereas Wes deleted my criticisms from RideApart, I stood atop a tor in gale force winds waving my phone about to ensure he got his chance to insult me. And we'll leave it at that.

Cornwall was beautiful and restorative, and its tiny, badly maintained roads had me again thinking my next bike should be a V-Strom or some other machine with really good suspension. But more importantly, I've come back from Cornwall feeling inspired. Being out there away from the internets and the everyday reinforced my desire to explore –– to get out and see whatever there may be to see. 

Looking forward to the year ahead, I am already planning at least one big trip. In March or April, I'm not yet sure, I'm hoping to ride up to North Wales, take the ferry over to Dublin and thereafter do a wee explore of Ireland. In May, if everything works out, I'd like to ride up to the Lake District for a weekend.

The goal is to push myself in 2014, to extend my boundaries, to move out of my little comfort zones. I think it's going to be a good year.

Comments

  1. Beautiful picture of the Moor.

    We always enjoy being away from the cell phones and internet access.

    Funny, the world carries on even when we aren't connected. Or should I say when we are out making a deeper connection?

    ReplyDelete
  2. I'm just smiling because it seems a lot of bloggers I'm reading are saying the same thing going into 2014. We need to push ourselves, to get out of our comfort zones. I've a feeling that 2014 is going to be a year of change for many of us.

    ReplyDelete

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