When I was younger I used to do this, racing Baja bugs
Twice around the Baja 500, twice around the Santo Tomas 200, once around the Mint 400.
One time when I was co-driving (passenger seat) the Santo Tomas 200 (not the time we rolled three times down a hill, that’s a different story) we were cruising along at about 70 mph and suddenly there was a huge bang and the car jolted, and pieces of the car flew over the roof. I looked to my right and right there, not 2 feet away was the right front tire, keeping pace with us. It had the brake drum, wheel, and hub still attached. The suspension on these cars is so stiff and long that you can drive without one front wheel. Eventually we slightly turned to the left, the tire went straight and as I watched, hypnotized, it hit a rock and launched itself for many feet, then went bouncing into the distance. I was mesmerized, it was so beautiful. Deadly, but beautiful.
We pulled over. As I was co-driver it was my job to run and get the tire. We also found the fender, which was what flew over the roof. The tire went in the front seat, but there being no room, the fender went in the bushes. There was also no room for me, the tire taking my place. I had to crouch to the outside roll cage that surrounded the engine, and hang on to the inner roll cage (there is no glass on these cars) the whole way back. Now mind, this is OUTSIDE the car! My job was also to anticipate bumps, and jump up and down to prevent the right front suspension from digging in when we got to rough areas.
We got back to the pit area and of course started drinking beer. Eventually it was agreed that I, being the co-driver, should go get the fender. I was given one of these, mini bike and sent on my way. Alone, in the desert, on an active off road race course, looking for a fender. Amazingly, I found it!
On my way back, being the young, fearless kid I was, I decided to open up the throttle. If you followed the above link you will notice how large the tires are on these Honda bikes. ‘Balloonies’, we called them. Great fun, but they had one major flaw. Rocks were their nemesis. Predictably, I hit a large rock and did what we call ‘going over the top’. Luckily I did not hit head first. I went completely over (a very acrobatic somersault!) with the bike and what hit first was both knees at the same time. I was not injured except I had completely removed all the skin from both knees, about three square inches each knee. Very painful, very bloody, and a totally ruined pair of Levi’s.
Two days later I was home in San Diego County. With an opportunity to solve something that had always mystified me. Do you tear the scab off, or leave it on? Being the curious rapscallion I was, I decided to finally get the answer to this age old question. Interestingly enough, none of my friends seemed to care about my quest. Still, I did not let that discourage me. Every night I soaked the right knee, until the scab was very very soft. And then, using a wash cloth, I steeled my nerves and wiped off the scab, leaving the other side unsoaked and untouched. For the first week or so this was very painful, very bloody. It was incredibly uncomfortable and sensitive, particularly at work. But eventually the baby skin filled in and it stopped bleeding. Eventually the scab on the other side started to flake off.
The conclusion? Both healed at the same time. Virtually the same day the one scab came off, the non scab knee was healed, with both sides being about the same tenderness. But pain is an interesting thing….it teaches us lessons. It taught me to be more careful on motorcycles. Belt sanders, not so much (ask me sometime about when I removed my whole palm, and made my co workers much more cautious) So there are lessons to be learned in removing scabs. And taking opportunities as they come, even if from unexpected directions.
Of course another lesson is practical knowledge has benefits over book knowledge.
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