Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12 Page 13 Page 14 Page 15 Page 16 Page 17 Page 18 Page 19 Page 20 Page 21 Page 22 Page 23 Page 24 Page 25 Page 26 Page 27 Page 28 Page 29 Page 30 Page 31 Page 32 Page 33 Page 34 Page 35 Page 36 Page 37 Page 38 Page 39 Page 40 Page 41 Page 42 Page 43 Page 44 Page 45 Page 46 Page 47 Page 48 Page 49 Page 50 Page 51 Page 52 Page 53 Page 54 Page 55 Page 56 Page 57 Page 58 Page 59 Page 60 Page 61 Page 62 Page 63 Page 64 Page 65 Page 66 Page 67 Page 68 Page 69 Page 70 Page 71 Page 72 Page 73 Page 74 Page 75 Page 76 Page 77 Page 78 Page 79 Page 80 Page 81 Page 82 Page 83 Page 84 IRON BUTT MAGAZINE | Winter 2014 Perspective By Lynda Lahman By Lynda Lahman HAVING COMPLETED THE first por- tion of our National Parks Tour in April, visiting a park, historic site or battlefield sites in  southern states, Terry and I eagerly anticipated Part Two beginning in July. While only visiting  states is required, it sounded fun to ride to the  states remaining in the lower ,and that became our personal goal. Our vacation was to be a mix of friends,family and fun stops, as well as re-acquainting ourselves with unfamiliar roads just in case that knowledge might come in handy next July. Stopping first in St Paul for the BMW Motorcycle Owners of America rally, we camped with friends, spent too much money on farkles and snagged the Mississippi River National River and Recreation Area passport stamp. After a layover in Ohio for a brief cousins’ reunion with Terry’s family and a chance to promote PolioPlus with a talk at a local Rotary meeting, we were ready to tackle the east coast and our memories of bad roads, crazy traffic and tolling sta- tions. Unfortunately, our experience in New Jersey turned quickly from having a delightful ride in easy flowing traf- fic to being tossed to the curb at the bottom of an unremarkable off-ramp by a driver whose head was turned to look for on-coming traffic before making sure the vehicles in front of her had already gone. Our plans for the remainder of our month were upended almost as soon as I was. The x-ray revealing two broken ribs confirmed our suspicions. My initial reaction was gratitude that I was able to walk, talk and had it not hurt so much, laugh. I was alive and would soon be well. My bike could be repaired and the accident occurred within two miles of my cousins’ house where we were able to settle ourselves while we sorted out our next steps. As the navigator, I now turned my route planning skills to the logistics of getting home.It wasn’t nearly as delightful a task as figuring out which parks to visit, but it was a necessary exercise if I wanted to get my bike, Terry and me across , miles to the other side of the country. I am also grateful for the well wishes and offers of help from friends. My cousins’ generosity was heartfelt and my ribs had several days to prepare for the long flight home. Med Jet came through as hoped, quickly arranging to ship my bike to our dealer in Washington, and a plan emerged for Terry to ride back to Ohio to pick up a truck from his dad’s farm that we could use on ours. My ribs have been healing and I have been able to resume some of my normal activities, although still at a much reduced pace and with some discomfort if I move incorrectly. My bike will soon be at the shop and repaired, and I am eager to get back on it and have more adventures. Given all the possibilities, this really was a best-case scenario outcome. But sharing with non-riders that I have been in an accident brings up some interesting conversations. While I know they may mean well, I quickly tired of hearing their horror stories of friends who have been in motorcycling acci- dents and answering the question “Will you keep riding?”I find it interesting that no one feels the need to tell automobile drivers who have just been in horrific accidents all the reasons they should stop driving. “Yes,I am eager to ride as soon as I am better,” I politely answer, although it is getting harder and harder to stop from verbalizing my less than pc response, “Gosh, I’m so glad you told me that, I never realized riding was dangerous.This was just the bit of information I needed to make me sell my bike and quit!” But Terry says sarcasm doesn’t suit Chapter 18: A Trip Interrupted