A week ago last Sunday, Betsy and I were riding in Loudenville, Southbound on Route 60. Approaching the intersection of Route 3, the light switched to yellow and I clutched and braked to slow to a stop. I heard the sound of a tire skidding and looked around me for a large pickup truck pointing at me and either speeding up or skidding down through the intersection. Nothing. Next glance, in my rear view mirror, I saw Betsy's bike sliding on its side and the mirror flying off. Shut off my bike, popped it on the side stand and ran back to find Betsy lying on the grass along side the road. In pain, but aware and responsive. Cell phone 911. Told her, "I love you to pieces, but this is not how I meant." Ambulance and police arrive within minutes. To Ashland Hospital 16 miles North. Xrays, no breaks. Five stitches in right elbow. Wrenched right knee and shoulder. No concussion or other trauma. We were both covered, head to foot, in helmet, heavy Cordura jackets, gloves, denim, and leather boots. Bike is uglier than it was (broken windshield, trashed mirror, scrapes and scratches, dent in tank), but fully functional and rideable. In fact, I scrambled the bikers' assistance network of Lorain County (n'eer-do-well bunch I have been riding with for 30 years) and we drove both bikes back while Betsy rode in the car following.
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