Beemer01
New member
Dave's version of the 'Blood on the highway' segment...
.....'blood on the highway'. excerpt from my trip notes...it's not like adventure won't find you out there.
"The road was in pretty good shape, although there were the usual gravel construction zones including some on long grades. No real difficulty if you stayed alert. We had maintained good speed and were running 75 on chipseal when I raised my visor to push my sunglasses back up. Before I closed the visor, something hit me on the right side of my nose, a bull’s eye. I have no idea what hit me, but it opened me up like I’d been cut with a straight razor. By the time I hit the brakes and got to the shoulder I was already covered with blood. I had blood all over my face and neck, helmet, riding jacket, pants, boots, bike…everywhere. I had a hand up to my face to try to keep it under control and was afraid to let go long enough to get my helmet off.
The bike was still running, and blood was just pouring out of me. Freakin’ A, I think I have a little problem here. I fumbled around in my cargo pockets for some paper towels I keep to clean the visor. They get used up one after the other and now there was a growing pile of blood soaked paper towels beside the bike. I see Beemer coming back and he turns around and parks in front of me, walks back and says “What the hells going on, you look like you’ve been shot”.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but the only thing I can do is to wait it out. I can’t ride right now anyway, and there’s no help for miles in either direction.
After 45 minutes the bleeding had slowed to a drip and after an hour I was able to get cleaned up enough to ride. We took it easy to the next fuel stop and when I pulled up to the pump a smiling young gal came out to fuel the bike. I was looking her direction when I raised my visor and when she got a look at my face she jumped back about five feet.
I said “I need to get cleaned up.” She pointed in the direction of the restrooms, turned on her heels, and took off in the other direction. Never said a word, I must have scared her. I locked myself in the restroom and tried to get some of the blood off me. Every time I touched my nose it would start bleeding again.
A half hour of work and it was as good as I could get it. Unfortunately, the restroom looked like there had been a chainsaw murder in there. Sorry about that. This whole thing was real old at this point and I was starting to get a little twitch in my left eye. I didn’t feel like thinking about it anymore.
Maybe I could get Beemer to ride ahead and find some bar with a wet T-shirt contest.
Let’s hit the road, things can only get better."
.....'blood on the highway'. excerpt from my trip notes...it's not like adventure won't find you out there.
"The road was in pretty good shape, although there were the usual gravel construction zones including some on long grades. No real difficulty if you stayed alert. We had maintained good speed and were running 75 on chipseal when I raised my visor to push my sunglasses back up. Before I closed the visor, something hit me on the right side of my nose, a bull’s eye. I have no idea what hit me, but it opened me up like I’d been cut with a straight razor. By the time I hit the brakes and got to the shoulder I was already covered with blood. I had blood all over my face and neck, helmet, riding jacket, pants, boots, bike…everywhere. I had a hand up to my face to try to keep it under control and was afraid to let go long enough to get my helmet off.
The bike was still running, and blood was just pouring out of me. Freakin’ A, I think I have a little problem here. I fumbled around in my cargo pockets for some paper towels I keep to clean the visor. They get used up one after the other and now there was a growing pile of blood soaked paper towels beside the bike. I see Beemer coming back and he turns around and parks in front of me, walks back and says “What the hells going on, you look like you’ve been shot”.
I’m not sure what’s going on, but the only thing I can do is to wait it out. I can’t ride right now anyway, and there’s no help for miles in either direction.
After 45 minutes the bleeding had slowed to a drip and after an hour I was able to get cleaned up enough to ride. We took it easy to the next fuel stop and when I pulled up to the pump a smiling young gal came out to fuel the bike. I was looking her direction when I raised my visor and when she got a look at my face she jumped back about five feet.
I said “I need to get cleaned up.” She pointed in the direction of the restrooms, turned on her heels, and took off in the other direction. Never said a word, I must have scared her. I locked myself in the restroom and tried to get some of the blood off me. Every time I touched my nose it would start bleeding again.
A half hour of work and it was as good as I could get it. Unfortunately, the restroom looked like there had been a chainsaw murder in there. Sorry about that. This whole thing was real old at this point and I was starting to get a little twitch in my left eye. I didn’t feel like thinking about it anymore.
Maybe I could get Beemer to ride ahead and find some bar with a wet T-shirt contest.
Let’s hit the road, things can only get better."
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