Mitchell College - Thames Log Yearbook (New London, CT)

Page 83 text:

The Yamaha left the line as I grabbed for my clutch, and he shoved my handlebars around in a wide arc that resulted in my falling over and getting my right leg pinned under the rear wheel, while the throttle buried itself in the soft dirt - wide open. By the time I shut off the bike, my Lucky Racing Boot had been chewed away, exposing remnants of my Lucky Racing Sock and a skinned-up Lucky Racing Ankle. While I sat in the doorway of my van as a track official wrapped my foot in gauze, my cheering section walked up. Hi, bikey! Say, that was rare form on the starting line, all right! You're lucky you're still alive!', Well, I don't want to blame anyone in particular, BRUCE, but . . . They all had a good laugh. I spoke to the unknown young lady. And OF COURSE, your name MUST be Penny! 'QAbsolutely correct. And you, Tom, are the sorriest excuse for a motorcycle racer I've ever seen. Oh, please don't prejudge me so, Penny! Usually that doesn't happen until the second or third lap! I got to hob ble over to the bike and try to straighten the handlebars. But I turned to face her again. Are you artistic? She looked mildly surprised. Am I artistic?? she smiled. Do you paint or sculpt? Or photograph ? I paint a little, she fibbed. Why, do you?', No, I don't have any ability myself, AS YOU CAN SEE!!', She laughed. But I admire people who have talent. And I stopped right there, very curious about what would happen next. So do I, she said, smiling. Now let's get these bars straightened before your next race. So I bought her a hamburger with the works.

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We Studied We Met and Talked and Friendships Grew