I'm having a clear-out of old BIKE magazines (the one from the UK) and came across an article (one of many) written by their world travelling adventure tourer, Dan Walsh. Possibly the best motorcycle journalist/raconteur to put finger to keyboard, IMHO.
Anyhoo here's a snippet from an article on a crash he had, somewhere in S.America:
The front wheel makes a tearing sound as it breaks free on a right hander and crash I bang hard, wallop, I crash hard and the bike's heavy on my right side as my arms spread in front of me and we scrape downhill, shriek downhill, and the tarmac tears my trainers and grinds down my toes and the tarmac bites at my hips and snags my elbows and the tarmac burns at my knees and rips off my clothes and the clock's still reading 50 and f@#$%^g hell, I wish this would stop.
It stops.The stalled engine pings and every f@#%^g thing stings. "What goes around, comes around", the spinning wheels sing.
A cab pulls over. The Spanish driver's taking his wife and son home. All three get the bike up, get me up then coo sympathetically when I wobble and puke....
Photo of skinned hand and thigh attached.
