Just read a post on a motorcycle forum from a guy who until recently had 45 accident free years riding. He's in Central California. See bolded text. An excerpt:
Every year in May, I ride down to a downtown car show about 65 miles away from home. I love to ride the quiet back mountain roads to get there. Today at 0851 hours, I was riding SB on a rural 2 lane road at around 52 mph. Careful as always when riding past orchards, I had just reduced my mph and was scanning far ahead for dangers. As I approached a rural intersection which was blind on my left, a large white Ford 4 door pick up truck ran the stop sign. I took evasive maneuvers and clamped down on all brakes.
When the ST and I separated, I slid about 120' basically down the center yellow line.
I ended up exactly on the middle yellow line and spread eagle on my back as if I was going to try making a snow angel. I laid there a few seconds to process what just happened, then I started my self administered secondary survey for injuries. I began wiggling all toes, one foot at a time, then the lower legs, upper legs, all fingers, wrists, forearms, shoulders, slowly started moving my head. When I was satisfied my major parts were operational (as best I could), I slowly sat up and looked around fully expecting to see the truck driver running over to see how I was. Instead, he, according to a witness, burned rubber and fled the scene. Left for dead I was. The Mexican Locals believe it was an illegal alien that had been drinking in the orchard and fled to avoid arrest. That sounds plausible for this area of the Valley. |
