Well, we got a rough start to our two weeks of traveling. While on the way to pick up my traveling companion to go the airport, a guy on a motorcycle pulls right out in front of me, while I was traveling at a pretty high rate of speed. I hit the brakes, then hit him.
I reckon I put down about 475 yards of black marks, well, ok, about 40 feet. And I skidded another 20 feet or so AFTER I hit him. By God’s grace alone, that man didn’t die today. I hit his motor cycle about at the handle bars. I figure I was going about 50/60 kph when we collided. It knocked parts of his motor cycle and my truck all over the road. It really was a miracle that he didn’t die. Another 6 inches out in the road and the truck would have struck his body, instead of his moto.
He ended up with a hurt ankle, but he was walking around and it didn’t appear to be broken. I think he knew he was lucky to be alive. There was a man there who spoke some English and he helped us sort it all out. We were all set to let each person take care of his own stuff, until the man’s family member arrived. She saw money signs since I am a white foreigner. She got the man all riled up and the man started writing down my tag number. Once we saw that, we said we should call the police. I was afraid that they would go to the police later then try to claim it was a hit and run or something like that. It just so happened that a policeman came by on his motorcycle and sorted it out for us. He felt that we should each pay for our own. That shut the female relative right up.
Anyway, to sum up, we made it to the airport on time and I am now typing this way above
1 comment:
Wow. That's a crazy story! I'm so thankful that it worked out as it did...PTL.
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