“We’ve canceled beverage service for this flight due to turbulence”, the pilot announces. For the duration of the flight the twin-turbo prop is batted around by the wind like a cat toying with a mouse. My broken left clavicle moves in ways that are wrong… I should have made a more concerted effort to find the painkillers back in SeaTac.

Perhaps you consider yourself jeopardy friendly, a risk taker, an extremist? If so might I suggest a new undertaking, because no matter how hardcore you are, you are squat compared to a volunteer Mexican ambulance driver.

“There’s some ruts,” comes Kevin’s voice over the Interphone F5 communicator. We’ve done the tough stuff, and right now we are riding from the Panaderia to the beach with a brown bag of fresh baked goods for breakfast. I divert my attention from Kevin riding ahead to the road directly in front of me. I look up, and it all goes wrong.