I’m a second generation motorcycle rider. Growing up my dad always had a motorcycle; at one point he even had 4. Mom and I would take turns riding with him most weekends running errands, visiting family, and sometimes just going out for ice cream. We joined a local motorcycle club when I was 12, so our rides became more frequent. In the organization, we were Chapter Z or by those who knew us, the Zaniacs. We would ride out to other chapter meetings, go on poker runs to raise money for local charities, ride in parades… It was an amazing feeling to belong to this amazing group of people who loved riding just as much as we did.
I was getting ready to respond to one of my good blogger friends, Sarah, about my previous car incidents I’ve been in (though nothing like I had witness just 2 weeks ago) and decided to just write a post about them, so here we are!
Before you become too concerned, as I explained it to her: “I’ve been in 2.5 kind of accidents.” Continue reading