I and a buddy were following a guy on a sportbike once, headed south on Hwy 39, just south of Colima in HH. We were first off the light at Colima, and I thought, Oh, good, no traffic in front of us, this will be a great scamper over the hill to E Rd. So I thought. This guy poked along like he was smelling roses, and he was clad in full leathers with a very hi-dollar helmet. I kept wondering if I should just pick my spot and pass him, but there's no passing thru these hills, so I just kept station behind him, not too close, but apparently he thought it was. At a certain stretch, there's a drop-off on the right with a guardrail, and he pulled way to the right, I guess to let me by, but it was too curvy there, so I hung back, but he got to close to the guardrail and squeezed on too much front brake that he locked the front in the gravel, slid into the rail, and stuffed the bike under the bottom rail. My bud and I stopped and helped him up. We asked him if he was OK, but he didn't reply, just kept trying to pull the bike out from under the rail, which he could not do. We helped him pull the bike free, and when it was upright, it wouldn't start. I told him to cycle the ignition key a few times, and when he looked at me with with shield up, I saw it was young Asian guy. He did the key, the bike started, and he rode away without a word.
Gone in 60, I spent two years in the tropics courtesy of Uncle Sam. Loved it, but not sure it fixed anything.