Shit happens and it usually happens on a bad day. Lucky for me it was not on a bad day when I broke my left front fork. I was in good company, we had plenty of food and water and the sun was shining. Cookie and I had left Cooktown that morning and had ridden our bikes on some terrible washboard roads when it happened. Fair enough, I crashed, but walked away from the incident without serious damage to myself. This was my second time that the left front fork had broken. The first time was in Malawi, Africa, a few years earlier, the right fork was still in good shape.