Not all stupid things end up having bad consequences, and very fortunately so in my case. Back in my twenties, I had a Yamaha 400 motorcycle which I enjoyed immensely. This was before drivers were distracted by their mobile phones and potholes seemed few and far between. I was a very careful rider and was very good at anticipating danger, knowing that, regardless of fault, I would end up badly hurt or worse.
I rode my motorcycle to a family picnic one day, somewhere out in the country west of Dayton, if my memory serves correctly. Rain moved in and I decided to ride home through it. But there was so much water coming off the road that I decided to put my feet up on the handlebars to keep them somewhat drier. So I’m flying down a country road at fifty miles per hour, tires hydroplaning and I’ve raised my center of gravity and given up some amount of control. It took a few minutes to piece all this together and reverse this stupid decision.
But I was smart enough to stop riding motorcycles after my daughter was born, realizing a whole lot more than myself was on the line at that point.
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