Reading a blog entry on HarleyThoughts.com about a gruesome incident reminded me the day I came within inches of losing my right leg.

It was 1980. It was late on a Summer Saturday afternoon. I was 20 years old, full of the dumbass fearlessness that so often accompanies youth. I was riding a 1969 Harley Shovelhead. I accelerated quickly from an intersection on a busy main drag, leaving the rest of the cars behind. I wasn't racing, but I was moving along faster than the rest of traffic. I wasn't wearing a helmet—this was long before California eliminated that choice.

Another cage driver kills a biker. This was a seriously messed-up situation.

The biker, Gregory Clyde Shannon, of Placerville, California, was minding his own business, when along comes a suspected drunk driver in a pickup truck, and hits him head-on. Hit him hard enough to knock the driver's side front wheel off the truck.

The truck driver leaves the scene, still driving the truck sans front wheel. Sparks flying.

Adding insult to injury, it appears that the truck driver continued on for 7 miles - starting numerous brush fires and totally destroying three homes in the process.