You’re riding with a partner. He swears he knows the surrounding area and roads for miles and miles. He insists you take a turn-off that will be not only faster, but a more scenic ride. So you follow his route and become hopelessly lost.
Try and retrace your steps on the map, and you find where you are does not exist. All you can do is ride and search for a landmark that will help identify your location. As you ride your fuel supply gets lower and lower until you’re finally on reserve. Just when you think you’re going to be stuck pushing a thirsty bike in the middle of nowhere, your partner suggests you make the next turn and low-and-behold, you’re right where you were supposed to be two hours ago. The only reaction your partner gives you is an ironic smile as you pull into a gas station with the exhaust sputtering and cylinders gasping for the last drop of gas left in the tanks.
Were you really lost, or was your partner just having some fun leading you around “Robin hood’s Barn?”
It doesn’t really matter whether you were lost or not. All that really matters is that you’ve managed to get off the beaten path of things you know and are sure of, and have taken a little side- trip exploring the unknown. And more often than not, this iswhere you’re going to meet someone who you might have never met or you’re going to get the chance to do something you might never have had the opportunity to do.
Sample Chapter
By the time Hans showed up to give me a ride to AMF Headquarters in Wicker (just outside Frankfurt) I had munched down the two stale rolls they call breakfast, and gone to the bank to turn good American dollars into what looked like Monopoly money.
It took about an hour to get the bike rolled out of the building, loaded with camera gear, and filled with gas. Finally I was to begin my trek through Europe.
I wound through a couple of small country roads, keeping my eyes glued for road signs, and soon I was making a turn onto the world famous Autobahn. For years I had heard of this famous road system, but this was to be a first for me. I had about 250 Kilometers to go on the Autobahn before I pulled into France.
I cranked the throttle pretty hard as I made my entrance, and I remembered what Hans had told me. Keep to the right all the time, except to pass, and then watch your ass. Hell, it didn’t sound any different then the American Freeway system, except it was just a two lane version.
I was coming up behind a slow truck and checked my mirror. Nothing behind me, so I turned out into the fast lane and wicked on the throttle, taking it up to about 80 miles per. Before I passed the truck I heard the blaring of a horn and looked into my rear view mirror, only to see the grill and hood ornament of a Mercedes 220 Sedan sitting on my rear fender.
I cursed under my breath and wished I had my piece with me. The asshole shouldn’t have gotten that close, or so I thought. After I pulled in front of the big truck the driver of the Mercedes didn’t even give me a look. He just dropped the sucker down one gear (at 85 mph?!) and floored it, and was followed almost six inches behind by another Mercedes, which was followed at an equally crazy distance by a red Porsche. In a matter of seconds they were out of sight.
I kept up my “snails pace” of about 80 miles per, only to be whizzed by like I was standing still. Caravans of five and six cars, traveling in excess of 125 miles per hour, just inches off each others bumpers, would pass like one.
And I never saw one accident on the Autobahn.
Just after I passed through Muelhiem I turned off the Autobahn and headed west, through the city of Meulhous, and crossed the Rhine River, entering France.
I expected to have all kinds of hassles crossing the border, so naturally I hadn’t brought any drugs along. As it turned out, the whole damn trip went without a search. I could have brought bushell baskets overflowing with Panama Red and Acapulco Gold and never been apprehended.
Oh well, anyway, I came upon the frontier, pulled up to the guard expected to be hassled, and sat there looking like a dummy as he started to spout off something in French.
I had no idea what he wanted and just kinda shrugged my shoulder and held my hands in the air, like saying I didn’t know what the hell he was talking about.
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