The competition between the five of us would slowly over shadow our friendships and lead to the demise of the friendships. This didn't happen over night, it took almost four years. When I was nineteen, I had an accident in the fall of that year which kept me off my bike for six months.
When it was time to mount the bike again, something had changed. Perhaps the six months gave me time to reflect on why I rode my bike, but it was without question for me, "I didn't want to ride and I certainly didn't want to race". My coach didn't like this attitude. Getting on my bike did not bring happiness to me anymore. For the next two years I rode my bike very little and when I did, I rode alone. Finally I sold all my beautiful bicycles and gear for almost nothing. I would not ride again for seven years!
Looking back I realize that those seven years were dark and without definition. During that time I got married, but was never truly happy and not aware of it. About this time I got in to building Hot Rod cars, in which I invested almost all my time. Just like the bicycles I built, each car was a labor of love and a work of art. In the winter of 1991 I had a lung collapse, it was spontaneous and seemed to recover on its own. Like most guys, I didn't see a reason to go to the doctor. After all it recovered all by itself and I felt fine a few hours later. At the time it had happened, it was, and still is the most painful thing I've ever experienced. I truly thought I was having a heart attack. Looking back I should have gone to the doctor, because in the summer of 1992 I got a cold that became Pneumonia. It almost killed me and it took over a year and half to recover. I often wonder if the two events were connected.
