"A Funny Thing Happened on the Way BACK from French Meadows"
by Saskia Hartley

All motorcyclists have a tale to tell, and it seems we just love doing it. So much do we love our tall stories that we are forever gathering new material. Hearing Tim Johnson's gas tank (and moose!) stories at the August camp-out left me more paranoid than usual regarding obstacles in the road.
Early departure the next morning had me looking carefully to the left and right along our wooded route for whatever wildlife may be waiting in ambush. Greg and I made it to the open road of Highway 4 west of Angel's Camp without incident. Hurray! Now we had only the boring ride across the valley ahead of us. My thoughts turned to thinking that my K75RS had been through a lot over the years, and that I might like something a little newer - with ABS brakes. This thought was hardly completed when I found myself confronted with a large doe close ahead and slightly to the left.
"What is she doing HERE?!! What should I do?!! Roll on the throttle! Oh oh oh oh OUCH! That hurt! Oh my - I'm still upright! How could that be? Now I still have to do things; I had planned on lying down in the road for a bit. I've got to get out of this loose stuff here on the shoulder. Oh, yes, I should probably decelerate now and try for a controlled stop. My bike! My resale value! Darn! I can't get the sidestand down. My leg hurts too much. Is it broken? Is Greg going to turn around and come back?!"
In any accident, it's amazing how many thoughts go through your head in such a short time span - and how ridiculous some of them are. Yes, Greg did miss me rather immediately and came right back. No, my leg was not broken - just a teeny little fracture and LOTS of colorful bruises. Highway Patrol came along and provided me a nice air-conditioned patrol car where I could collect my thoughts regarding the ride home. As it turned out, most of the damage to my bike was to the paint and plastic. Greg and I swapped bikes for the remaining 100 miles home.
In retrospect, I find that I agreed with Tim Johnson and "Ninja" Dave: Don't "close your eyes and relax". Regardless of the outcome, I want to know that I did everything within my power to deal with the situation. Hopefully this little article won't become the second in an ongoing series of such reports.
With that thought in mind, I would like to offer the "My New Bike" paragraph to this month's newsletter. My insurance company totaled my trusty steed of these last four years, and I started scrambling to find a replacement. I was fortunate to find a "new" 1994 K75S just in time for the Beemer Bash. It seems that my guardian angel who brings me safely through these motorcycle disasters is doing double duty as a good fairy for granting wishes. (It has ABS, too!)

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