Getting hit by a gringo in Mexico

My hands are shaking a bit as I write this. About 20 minutes ago I got hit by a car on the malecón here in La Paz. Luckily I am alive to write this as I was going pretty slow. The driver of a dual cab pickup from California pulled to the right hand side of the road as I followed him in the center of the lane and was going to continue pass him. Suddenly, he turned left to make a U turn and BANG (no signal and I was two seconds following distance!). There truly was a slow motion moment as I saw the side of his truck coming toward me. I did a panic stop (thank god for the practice in my basic rider course), but he still hit me. Every other day here I have been riding in my full protective riding jacket. It is built to take a slide on the rough asphalt. But this morning I was in a hurry and wanted to ride in with Pat, who was running late. So I just decided to grab my vest and helmet and go! I could hear my instructor in the back of my head chanting, “All the Gear All The Time”, but hey it’s just a short ride. Well big mistake… I could feel my skin peeling off in ragged chunks but I was more concerned that he was going to run over my legs / not stop. Luckily he did stop as me and the bike were semi wedged under his truck. Thankfully i scrubbed off most of the speed. Had I not, he would have hit my straight on with his truck, and I would have been on his hood or under his front tires. I pushed the bike off me and got to my feet. Surprisingly, I wasn’t too bad off. But I felt oddly embarrassed by the whole thing. I just wanted to get out of there. The police were there immediately asking if I was ok. The driver moved his truck to the side and got out. Of course his response was ‘I didn’t see you’. I felt like I was back in the motorcycle safety course. Car drivers simply don’t look for motorcyclists. In a haze of shock, I tell the cops I don’t want a police report, the driver of the car gives me his email, and then that was that. I picked up the MaddAss, my arm dropping a slurry of skin and blood and then I tend to immediate field repairs. Bent the clutch handle back to position. Shift her to neutral and fire her up. She breaths back to life, seemingly no worse for wear. Now I have to sort the real repairs as there is an ominous grinding coming from the front end and the fender is snapped to pieces. But more than anything I am excited to be alive and I now know first hand to wear all the gear all the time. image image image – RandallB3

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