It happened yesterday in this fair city, El Paso, Texas. A cyclist was killed while on an early morning ride, a time when the roads are still sleepy and a time when there is not much concern for safety. Mr. Heinz Duerkop, 67 years old was taken from life on earth by a car which hit him from behind. I went to the spot this morning to see that the cyclist had been hit from behind by an automobile who had not applied brakes, leaving fairly deep scrape marks in the asphalt for a distance of about 20 feet. According to the El Paso Times newspaper the rider was thrown a distance. The driver is being sought for hit and run. From what I could see by the remnant marks on the street, the rider was about 15 inches from the curb riding on a street(Georg Deiter) that had a wide inside lane. someone had to be veering extremely far left of the dashed lane stripe to have hit this cyclist. I don't want to exploit the unfortunate, but I feel like doing something to memorialize this man and this eve...
Everyone knows if it hasn’t rained in a long time, the streets get a dusty but oily film layered on top of the gravel and asphalt. When the rain first comes especially the light drizzly type, that’s when the streets are at its slickest of all. Everyone knows that don’t they? Taking care on one of the fast turns on my daily route, the new supposedly “extra traction” tires did well. Being careful not to get caught in the ultra fast trip down to the street presented no problem. The next turn which is fun to take fast also with a lean that even Levi would appreciate was throttled down to about half. No problem there. Third turn, thinking all things were safe to go fast, lean hard, and pedal on without diligence in safety go me. The trap was set; I was going down and going down hard. Its’ that moment in time that only lasts a second, but can run it through my mind like the third act in a boring production. Getting up was difficult; watching the trusted green steed laying down the blackened ...
This writing is to pay respect to Tiger Woods for voicing his opinion about the poor judgement John Paramor made last Sunday at the Bridgstone International Golf Tournament. The scene, one of those Sunday afternoon battles where first and second place players are dueling out toe to toe heading for the last hole. It was anybody's match at number 16. That was until Mr. Paramor, the man in molded to a golf cart and holding a two way radio like it was his first pacifier decided to wield his inconspicuous power that would change the momentum of the game with a snap of the fingers. Putting the two champions on the clock that far into the day didn't seem to make any sense at all to me. Yes, if they were on numbers 9 or 10, I could see this happening, but not o 16 as they were on a decent pace. Padraig Harrington got rattled, it appears because of the call, which was actually counter productive to speeding up play. Tiger, on the other hand kept his cool, never missing a shot, in fact p...
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