Air

I was riding my motorcycle in Quito the other day. I was on my way to my hostel, and was zipping back and forth between lanes, as one does.

My bike was in the middle lane, behind a slow-moving car. I noticed that the right-hand lane was completely empty, so I pulled to the right and prepared to pass.

And then I realized my mistake.

I had forgotten that the right-hand lane was reserved for buses. I had also forgotten this:

Huge raised blocks of cement meant to segregate traffic and keep regular traffic out of this reserved lane.

I was going 50 km/h; there was no way I could stop in time. I was going to crash. As soon as my front tire hit the divider, it would stop. My body would still be traveling 50 km/h, and I’d be thrown over the handlebars and onto the (thankfully) empty lane.

I mentally began to prepare myself to hit the ground, and hoping that a bus wouldn’t run me over.

A split-second later, my tire hit the divider and I flew up into the air.

And then the most amazing thing happened.

Instead of my bike stopping and throwing me clear, the front tire hit the divider and KEPT GOING.

I got some serious air. I was at least a foot or two off the ground. My bike hit the ground, and I stuck the landing.

There was no crash. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer from the close call, but I was okay.