3 October 2004
“Fire in the Hole!”
I screamed it before I consciously thought about it.
To my right, Dennis, who tells horrific, blood curdling tales of blasting deep in the mines of
Colorado, reacted as if he’d kissed the bare leads of a 240 volt extension cord. His head swiveled towards the flames, and then he made an immediate sprint towards the large, wheeled fire extinguisher parked on the end of the gas pump island.
Our mechanic and lead rider, Lin Zhongwei, beat at the flames curling up around the gas tank on our Chang-Jiang 750 with his gloves, but quickly realized it was a futile effort. The gasoline spewing from the disconnected fuel line he’d inadvertently knocked off was spreading fire everywhere, and the bike was parked only a few feet from the nearby gasoline pumps.
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