The same, I vomited off the side of the road on I-680, a pre-ride protein shake gone very wrong. I was headed to Chico from the Monterey Peninsula, with the intention of riding CA-36 and SR-299. I managed (barely) to do it privately, but a concerned motorcyclist who saw me abruptly leave the interstate checked on me. I think he was worried I was having a mechanical. He was right, my tummy was having a meltdown. I sat in a local Chevron parking space for over two hours, drinking water & vomiting in the bushes that were a few steps from me. Made myself home in the bathroom too. I rallied, made it to my hotel room in Chico & took the longest shower ever;-P It turned into an amazing weekend of riding.
Thanks for asking... there was a time in my wee-early years when I received 7 traffic tickets from an angry officer. Very memorable to this day. And then there was riding my brand-new Ducati 907 Paso from Chicago to Minneapolis in a 37 degree downpour that lasted 8 hours wearing a borrowed one-piece rainsuit that was XS (I needed a Medium;), while drafting a semi at 80mph at midnight (six feet from his bumper) while he splashed the deep water out of the highway grooves so I wouldn't hydroplane. I finally arrived at 2 am. frozen to the core, but alive. A miracle I did not die. And then there was my first Mojave Desert adventure.. Starting in LA and trying to make it to Las Vegas by dirt only in a day, I became severely dehydrated, vomiting repeatedly while watching the sun slowly set, and planning for an unexpected sleepover in the desert. While my riding buddy went to seek help, I lay in the sand for 1-2 hours wondering how did I get in this mess? Off on the horizon, I see two headlights, puzzled since I had seen no one for the past five hours in the desert. 20 minutes later, a truck stopped. I don't remember her name, but she was observing the migratory habits of desert tortoises and found me laying in the dirt unable to move, walk, or drink. She drove me to safety. Then went looking for my riding buddy, guiding him back to where I was located. Desert angels do exist. And then there was the time my water pump stopped working on my 950 Adventure S in the Mojave. Had to be moto-towed 15 miles on off-road trails. Then we found the only land line in the Mojave and called a friend who lived seven hours away to come get me. After the call, my riding partners kept to their riding schedule, leaving me to sit in the desert for seven hours, awaiting a pickup. He arrived as planned. The time of arrival, 130 am. It was a long day.
And I thought sneezing in my helmet was gross...
The same, I vomited off the side of the road on I-680, a pre-ride protein shake gone very wrong. I was headed to Chico from the Monterey Peninsula, with the intention of riding CA-36 and SR-299. I managed (barely) to do it privately, but a concerned motorcyclist who saw me abruptly leave the interstate checked on me. I think he was worried I was having a mechanical. He was right, my tummy was having a meltdown. I sat in a local Chevron parking space for over two hours, drinking water & vomiting in the bushes that were a few steps from me. Made myself home in the bathroom too. I rallied, made it to my hotel room in Chico & took the longest shower ever;-P It turned into an amazing weekend of riding.
What a mix of emotions, relief realizing you were safe, and disgust watching ick drip from your helmet and neck gaiter. Oh honey....
Thanks for asking... there was a time in my wee-early years when I received 7 traffic tickets from an angry officer. Very memorable to this day. And then there was riding my brand-new Ducati 907 Paso from Chicago to Minneapolis in a 37 degree downpour that lasted 8 hours wearing a borrowed one-piece rainsuit that was XS (I needed a Medium;), while drafting a semi at 80mph at midnight (six feet from his bumper) while he splashed the deep water out of the highway grooves so I wouldn't hydroplane. I finally arrived at 2 am. frozen to the core, but alive. A miracle I did not die. And then there was my first Mojave Desert adventure.. Starting in LA and trying to make it to Las Vegas by dirt only in a day, I became severely dehydrated, vomiting repeatedly while watching the sun slowly set, and planning for an unexpected sleepover in the desert. While my riding buddy went to seek help, I lay in the sand for 1-2 hours wondering how did I get in this mess? Off on the horizon, I see two headlights, puzzled since I had seen no one for the past five hours in the desert. 20 minutes later, a truck stopped. I don't remember her name, but she was observing the migratory habits of desert tortoises and found me laying in the dirt unable to move, walk, or drink. She drove me to safety. Then went looking for my riding buddy, guiding him back to where I was located. Desert angels do exist. And then there was the time my water pump stopped working on my 950 Adventure S in the Mojave. Had to be moto-towed 15 miles on off-road trails. Then we found the only land line in the Mojave and called a friend who lived seven hours away to come get me. After the call, my riding partners kept to their riding schedule, leaving me to sit in the desert for seven hours, awaiting a pickup. He arrived as planned. The time of arrival, 130 am. It was a long day.