I regret not taking more pics of Frank when I had the chance. Too late now. I have no pics to go with my next story, but it's one of my favorites. Sometime in the mid 90s, I showed up at TWO on one of my trips and found Frank wearing a cast on his foot, crutches, and a sling on his arm. He told me he had hit a dog and went down for the first time on the street in 50 years of riding. Others who were there filled me in on "the rest of the story". Frank and some friends had gotten together to ride to Blairsville (about 20-30 miles away) and get something to eat, then go for a ride. On the way there, a dog ran in front of Frank, he hit it with his Suzuki VX800, and went down. His friends pulled the bike off of him. The bike was OK and Frank insisted he was too' So they went to a restaurant in Blairsville and ate.
Afterwards Frank told everyone he was going to skip the ride and go home. They offered to accompany him home but he insisted he was fine and they should go enjoy the ride. Frank rode home, when he got there he beeped his horn to signal Jeannie to open the garage door for him. She was surprised at this because she had just had knee surgery the day before and was on crutches. When she saw Frank, she knew something was wrong with him and said she was going to take hime to the hospital. He said he didn't need to go to the hospital. Frank was tough, but not tough enough to disobey Jeannie, so they went to the hospital. At the hospital they found: Several broken ribs, a punctured and collapsed lung, a broken ankle, and (I think) a dislocated shoulder.
Frank was ONE TOUGH DUDE!!!
I ride, Therefore I Am.