August 1, 2016

When I recovered consciousness I wasn’t able to move. I was upside down and the steering wheel of the Triumph TR 6 had my arm pinned to the broken glass of the windshield. “Two Trains Running” by the Blues Project dolefully slowed to a halt as the tape jammed in the cassette player. I had just driven off a 40-foot cliff and landed next to the Colorado River. My best friend, the owner of the car, had escaped major injuries and was able to get out the crumpled passenger door. He was trying desperately to lift the car off me as the gas leaked all around, but to no avail. He asked if I was ok and said he was going to climb the cliff to get help. I waited for the fire to start. It didn’t and help was there 45 minutes later.

Late the night before we had decided to meet the “ladies” at the Blue Water Resort near Parker Arizona to water ski. We drank beer, popped “bennies” (Benzedrine) and smoked pot through the night as we drove through the dessert. At dawn Rick asked me to drive the last coup...

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