Milestone

Nothing like a near-death experience to show you the true colours of your life.
Especially if it comes just after a birthday...

Some things are just not meant to be, eh? Life-validating journeys, stories for a lifetime, India winning the cricket World Cup...
The same thing happened the last time trips were planned with similar intentions and motives. That turned out so bad...tch tch. But, that was in a different country, different time, different life.
But, same shit.

The signs...oh, the signs.

K dropped out. A fell sick. I fell sick. Vi had an accident, dropped out (for the first leg). AV FLIPPED out, had an 'epiphany'. Several people had 'a bad feeling about this', some mentioned it before and some after. There were bad dreams and just about everything but a booming voice from the sky saying "STOP!!"

But, none so blind as those who refuse to see.

Michelle had her first major accident. In 18 months. My first too. In 6 years of riding. And it just could not have happened at a worse time.
Observers observed that I was lucky to be alive. Got away with what seem to be relatively minor neck and back injuries. No broken bones, no scrapes/cuts. Amazing.

Something else really amazing is the way the mind works in the 3 seconds before you actually hit. When you know. I wonder if there's a way science can study that in detail. You can study all the biomechanics you want, do all the impact studies, damage studies, vector analyses...but how do we actually think in such situations? For example, the decision I made to hit the auto head-on, instead of trying to swerve sharply around it probably saved my life. Because I was later told there was a vehicle behind me on the left - swerving would have brought me into its path and I could have come under the wheels.

Of course, it was subconscious, based on the information stored earlier on, when I'd passed the vehicle on the left. And the 3 seconds were a curious mix of quick decision making, a sense of inevitability, and everything slowing down, as it's always described.

Anyway, the never-ride-without-it helmet saved, to the undoubted regret of so many 'friends', my head. And the oversized leather jacket, worn in summer (though it was ok because it was 4.30 am and bearable. Yes, some things beg to be done in the name of rider cliches) saved the arms and back. AV was hell bent on shorts but I insisted on jeans for safety reasons - these saved the legs. Sometimes, being uncool is very cool.

However, am not quite sure how I must interpret all this. Because, make no mistake, it must be interpreted. And analysed. And taken apart and a meaning and purpose found.

Because it's all been pretty much downhill from when I almost could have died.

^