Bombs Away

This story is from a friend of mine, but you guys know living out here on the coast can relate, Trust Me. Read on, Philip

The Alpha Biker, Preacher Chuck D. Alright now, there are many things that have happened to me over the years as I have traveled the highways and by-ways of America, but nothing sticks (literally) with me as much as the following story.

It is a sunny Sunday afternoon and I am riding with about a dozen of my buddies heading south on route 107 just below Laconia. For those who don’t know, 107 is a twisty scenic road that runs from the White Mountains down to Hampton Beach right near the Massachusetts border. It is a great day and the bikes are humming along running in a tight pack. I am on the right side of the lane about in the middle of the pack. We are rolling along at a good clip for this road… roughly 50 - 60 miles and hour. Ok, got the picture?

The moment appears to be perfect… that is… until… out of the top corner of my eye I catch a glance at something falling from above. I don’t think much about it as it is probably just a leaf. A leaf… riiiiigghhht…. not quite. You see, this “leaf” smacks me dead between the eyes… and has the consistency and temperature of marshmallow fluff that has been in the microwave for about 45 seconds.

The “leaf” hits… and I am completely fu*&’in blinded. I mean total lights out! I quickly reach my clutch hand up to wipe off the “leaf”. All I can do is smear the “leaf” all over my riding glasses and my cheeks. Now mind you… I am riding hard in the middle of a pack of bikes. This situation is less than optimal. I am doing my best to keep at least a constant throttle and am looking our the side of my glasses at the shoulder of the road in an effort to maintain my line. I finally dig a fingernail into my left lense and am able to semi-clear a 1/4 inch wide line across my left eye.

I wave frantically at those behind me signaling my intent to pull off the road. I and those behind me finally make our way to the shoulder. I am still trying to figure out what just happened. I throw the kickstand down and dismount. Pulling the glasses from my face leaves white drool hanging from my glasses to my face. I can hear the laughter coming from my buddies… and I use that term loosely.

Upon closer inspection and analysis… my face, beard, and glasses are covered with a mysterious substance that suspiciously looks like seagull shit. Well, suspicions are confirmed… it’s the real deal. Now I’m not a gambling man… but maybe I should be… because either that seagull has the accuracy of a laser guided missile… or my number was attempting to be up.

The laughter finally trails off when one of my bros offers up the fact that there are a lot of ways to be taken out of life… but, he’s pretty fu*&’in sure that he didn’t want to see the seagull epitaph at my funeral.

Sadly enough… this incident has provided the “on the job training” that ended up saving my ass multiple times . Stay tuned for the next installment of “riding blind”… until then… ride fast… take chances… and be lucky!

~ THE END ~