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I have always loved motorcycles, but never felt it was the time to be in the driver’s seat, until August of 1998. After a long day of meetings in Montana, I received a phone call from my husband (and best friend). He told me about a new bike he had purchased. Having owned motorcycles throughout our marriage it wasn't a surprise. But something struck me different this time, and I couldn't wait to get home to find out what it was! When I arrived home, he took my hand and led me out to the garage. There sat a brand new black and chrome Kawasaki Vulcan 800. My eyes lit up, and I said to him. "Where's yours?" He thought I was kidding, but I wasn't! At age 40 I had my first motorcycle, which I fondly
tagged The Predator. Now it was time for the fun part—learning how to As we know, sudden curves in life can happen when you least expect them. Two days before Thanksgiving, Tuesday, November 24, 1998, at about 2:00pm, I confronted one of those sudden curves. I was out for a short Fall ride. The sun was shining, and the temperature was about 60 degrees—the perfect fall day. Remembering from the safety course the importance of wearing the proper protective riding attire, I had taken the time to gear up. The extra time was well worth it. My helmet, jacket, gloves, chaps, Levi's, and boots, on this day, saved my life. I had been out for a couple of hours with the crisp air wafting through my helmet. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, when I came upon a car preparing to enter the highway from the Country Club driveway. My hands were poised ready over the brake and clutch, my headlight was on high beam, and I was honking my horn like a mad woman. I was sure the driver saw me, but when I reached the front of her car, she abruptly pulled out and struck me and my Predator broadside. I was thrown 120 feet, landing face first and skidding on the pavement. It wasn't until I finally stopped sliding that I realized my right foot had been crushed between the car and bike. It took two long and extensive surgeries to save my foot from amputation. I knew I had a lot of work ahead of me. My first thought was to walk again, because the possibility was great I would not. Hour-after-hour, day-after-day I worked endlessly through the pain. After two months of hard work and rehabilitation I was walking. After the accident, I was asked on several occasions if I would ride again. At that time my main goal was to regain the same quality of life I once had. All kinds of thoughts go through your mind when you almost lose your life. What if I had left a little earlier that day? What if I had taken a different road? The days passed, and I put riding on hold, not knowing what the future would bring. Then one day a strong feeling came over me, and a smile came to my face. I couldn't wait to ride, so I did! Four months after my life almost ended I bought a 1999 Yamaha V-Star 650. Feeling as if no time had passed from one bike to the next, I was pumped! I needed to ride—and not just around the neighborhood. So I planned a long weekend ride. My husband joined me on a trip to Niagara Falls, Canada. I was able to drive the 400 miles from our home in New Jersey to Canada in one day, in high winds and with temperatures hovering around the 40-degree mark. I was so pumped I wanted to go a little further but my husband, an around-the-town kind of guy, said, "No way!" We stayed in Canada a couple of days before returning home. I had just made it over the first of many hurdles. I began to realize everything happens for a reason. It's not for us to ask why, but to take the strengths we gain from our experiences and soar. Boy, was I soaring!! The V-Star was a great bike, but wasn't quite what I
needed for the kind of riding I really wanted to do. So in
September During the last year, Big Bertha and I took two more trips, completing the goal I set to ride through all the lower 48 states and all the Canadian Provinces. We covered 15,000 miles in 21 days on those two trips. Since the fall of 1998, I have logged almost 100,000 miles traveling through the US, Canada, Spain, and Africa. I've seen Mother Nature at her finest, from the Appalachians to the Florida Keys, from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. I've stood in awe of the Rocky Mountains and driven the length of the St. Lawrence River. I've gazed in wonder at the Grand Canyon and explored the vastness of the Sahara Desert. There are so many positives in covering mile after mile by motorcycle.
On my many journeys there have been a lot of people
who have helped facilitate my safe return home. I'd like to thank my
husband, Mark, for all his love, support, and putting up with me setting
my alarm for 1:00am to leave on my trips. Green Brook Cycle and Marine in
Green Brook, New Jersey always keeps my bike roadworthy. Lake City Honda
in Seattle, Washington gave me fast, friendly service. Forman Honda in
Brandon, Manitoba, for getting me a new back tire after I picked up a nail
while traveling across Canada. I have stayed in many digs on the road, but
the Whitehouse B & B in Manitoba, Canada holds |