The moment is short lived. There was this long straight, followed by a steep, downhill, decreasing-radius left, and you can guess the rest. I'm fine, except for a bruised ego, and the bike's fine, too-just a tweaked turn signal. I get up, knowing I have to get back on the horse, er, Honda. I swear at myself, and the innocent bike, too. "Start dammit! C'mon, you're a Honda-supposed to be bulletproof! Oh, thank you, Jesus, again!" I'm back on my way.