21 September 2005
My Horrible Place
Lake Elsinore, Perris race
way. I am focused and ready for the gate to
My gate is swept and my gas tank is full. I am telling myself you can do
just don’t fall. My friends and family were all watching from the stand and
I wanted to do was to finish this race first.
The gate drops and we are
off. I am leading, but by how much or how
far? Am I checked out or is it close? My bike is running well and I can feel
sweat beading down my forehead. I am riding as hard as I can; should I
off or should I keep pushing the bike? As I enter in to the second corner I look back, and not a single rider is in sight.
I am coming up to a big
jump that I have never done before. I think I know how fast should I go, but should I preload or should I slow down? I make up my mind and decide to go for it. As
the thought runs through my mind, I hit the throttle and my bike sputters, my heart stops, and the thought of pain went rushing
through my head. I leap off the face of the jump and know that I am going to come up short. Should I bail? No, I am too high
in the air; I just have to take the pain. I land and keep riding. The next thought through my head is severe pain in my legs.
That is it I broke my leg.
I pull off the track and
am yelling for help but the flagman can’t hear me (what was I thinking I am at a motorcycle track in the middle of the
race, you cant hear a thing).
I keep yelling and he
still doesn’t hear me. These few moments feel like an eternity. I can’t get off my bike both of my legs feel as
if they are broken, and I can’t balance on either of them. Finally someone comes to help me. I tell them my legs feel
broken and they take me to the pits. I get in a car and go to the hospital. After a long day and a broken right leg and fractured
left I lay my head down and go to sleep.