I used to be fairly lax with no helmet and so on, then I read the road rash girl story, and it got me to thinking, my "It won't happen to me" thing didn't work too well when I had Cancer, so what's to keep me from doing a high speed get off if the situation arose? Nuttin. I'd feel mighty stoop-it floppin' around like a penguin with a pair of scar-tissued / skin grafted mitts that are barely able to hold a fork, or wipe my own hind quarters, let alone spin a wrench or screwdriver. "Scarface" or "Scabman" as a nickname probably wouldn't be my life's long dream either. It was around that time I discovered the miracle of mesh motorcycle clothes -- not a cure all, but...
But hey, that's just me
