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I live on highway 211. There is a stretch of straight road, then a blind curve that goes through a intersection. At least 3 times a week motorcycles come by my house flying, and I do mean flying. That nobody has hit them is a miracle, or maybe its all the praying I do for the person on the bike because sooner or later it's going to be tragic. Slow down, there's no need to rush to the cemetary. My brother made that trip when he was only 24. You never get over it. My heart felt prayers goes out to everyone involved.
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