Had I arrived in Sturgis ten minutes earlier in August of last year we would have shook hands, honored one another, and maybe had a beer or two. We might have ridden together for a while; we might have come up with a solution for world peace, or more realistically, mapped a route to ride together in the future. I don’t know. He was on the ride of his dream, laying down rubber all the way from Florida. He left me a note, apologising that we missed one another.
I could have met a brother from another mother, the proprietor of Mickey’s Bar in South Florida, the father of two children, a husband, and the brother to my best friend, Ann, had I just arrived 10 minutes earlier. As it is, I will be meeting him for the first time in a hospital room almost one year later. Dave fell off his horse in January of this year and has yet to wake up.
Ten minutes can change a life.