Inspiration is alive and it looks as if he’ll stay that way. His back is broken in three places, his pelvis is cracked along with 4 ribs. He was hit so hard his tongue is purple and pretty he is not. But his spirit is intact, his sense of humor is undamaged. Cars can’t kill those it seems. He told me he was struck just 15 miles short of riding his 10,000th mile in 2000 & 7. It’s a lot of math I know. It’s a long way to ride. This is why I call him Inspiration because he is part of the reason I ride, an example of how any human can get around without an automobile.
When I used to drive to work in the big city, I would see Inspiration all along an extended stretch of my commute. On the weekends I might spot him clear across the county as I sped from one place to another in my car. This man was a mystery to me with his low slung saddlebags front and back and his flickering lights and steady pace. A thin, gentleman of 58 years, he seemed unenslaved to the auto and I envied him ever time I passed. When I finally decided to regain control over my own oil addiction, it was Inspiration who was willing to talk to me and share stories of how, where, what and most of all why. “Why ride,” you might ask, “Why not,” was the Inspirational answer and off I went.
Without family in the area it was up to Hope to help Inspiration. Of course Kindness tagged along too. Generosity, Bigheartedness, and Faith have pledged to lend a hand. It might be months, many many months before Inspiration is out on the streets again, riding his way to everywhere and anywhere on a bike and in good health. And that will be just living up to his name. Thank you Inspiration and please get well soon.
1 comment:
Fucking losers. I hope they find the pile of shit.
Pardon my French.
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