other/diversionary interests

RETURN TO CONTENTS

DIVERSIONARY INTERESTS

As far as I can remember I never suffered from a shortage of interests, only shortage of time to indulge in them.

When I was a child extracurricular activities in general were selected for me. These were, in the most part, of an

intellectual nature and to a smaller extent involved help with various chores around the house. As with time the

joy of learning took over, intellectual preoccupation became an immensely satisfying and thereby self-

perpetuating process. At age seven private instructionsin German began to which piano lessons were soon

added. By age 10 I was also receiving private Latin instructions because Latin was suddenly stricken from the

curriculum in post-war Hungary and learning Latin was considered essential by my parents for and educated

person. This was even more true if one entertained the idea of becoming a physician, as I did. Obligatory

Russian language instructions began in all schools in Hungary when I was around 14 years old.

When it came to sports however, the initiative was mine. During the Summer months swimming in the Bodva

river, bicycle trips excursions into nearby mountains were regular and much enjoyed activities. During Winters

sledding, ice-skating and skiing were practiced with much gusto.

In my teens in the city of Miskolc, where I went to High School, I was a member of the swimming team of the

club DVTK a.k.a. "Diosgyori Vasas", where I competed in butterfly and breast strokes. Another sport club that

I belonged to was known variously as MVSC or "Lokomotive". Here I wrestled and rowed kayak. In general

I was not good at track and field events and team sports, like soccer. Team sports did not fit my personality.

I liked to compete as an individual rather than as a member of a team. I did not like to depend on others and

did not want to take credit for their efforts. In keeping with my preference, at one time I also trained with a

cross-county skiing team while on another occasion I took part in a bicycle road race in the Bukk mountains

- an overly exhausting experience for which I was ill prepared. My preference of doing it alone however had

positive side. The knowledge that an eventual poor performance on my part is not going to affect adversely

an entire team gave me greater freedom to experiment with diverse sporting events. (That is how I knew that

with the exception of mid-distance running, I was not good in track and field events, and I was definitely

below average in throwing discus and hand grenade - yes, we could compete in such event.)

During my High School years I also took on briefly the study of oboe at the Music Conservatory. While I never

achieved distinction in any of these activities they were excellent character forming aids. They contributed to

healthy physical development, nurtured an orderly competitive attitude and, in the case of music, furthered art

appreciation.

As an elementary school student I was an avid reader. My parents had a sizeable collection of books that were

accessible to me as long as they were handled with care. I especially liked books that dealt with travel, history

and art. I vividly remember the anger and heartbreak I felt when, two officials searched our house and took

with them a number of books destined for destruction because their content was deemed incompatible with

Communist teaching. Most of these books dealt with history.

While still in elementary school I began collecting "antiquities" that included anything and everything that was old.

I had my "museum" in a cabinet where I kept coins, books, fossils, shards of bronze age pottery recovered from

a nearby, earlier excavated site, etc. A few of these somehow survived and rejoined me in America. Medicine and

archeology were and remained my chief and competing interests from childhood on. I went to high school on the

city of Miskolc One of my most favored place there was the Otto Herman Museum where I spent much time. I

knew every piece on display and much of their history. The staff noticed my interest and - to my delight - entrusted

me to function as a visitors' guide on occasions. Today I have a collection of items relating to the history of

medicine, African tribal art , as well as fine art. When surrounded with works of art, either old or many that were

made in our time, they exert a soothing, calming effect on me. To me, in this respect, their effect is akin to that of

classical and jazz music. They indeed make pleasant company.

In Budapest, in medical school we were required to take part in military training, as did all university students at

that time. During the Summer military exercises I discovered a talent that I did not know I had. I won Master

Shooter designations in pistol, rifle and machine gun ("geppisztoly"). Thus after our return to Budapest I became

a member of the joint medical school and Philosophy Faculty ("Bolcsesz Kar") rifle team. I continued to wrestle

sporadically in Budapest at the University of Engineering ("Muegyetem") as, at that time, there was no wrestling

team at the medical school. There was however a boat house on the Danube River that belonged to the Medical

School. While it was not easily accessible by public transportation, I managed to visit it occasionally to row kayak.

At one time through a friend I learned of the existence of a reasonably well tuned piano at a dormitory of the

philosophical faculty in Buda ("Eotvos Collegium") where I could practice piano playing when time allowed it.

Since the study of medicine is a rather demanding enterprise regardless in what country you pursue it, and since

extracurricular activities should not take priority over medical studies, such activities by necessity are practiced

irregularly. In all fairness I should also mention that inexpensive season tickets to theatre, concert and opera

performances were available to us and I took advantage of these with some regularity. In the Spring of 1956,

thus shortly before the Hungarian Revolution took place, I began to take private lessons in jazz piano from Pal

Herrer, an internationally known band leader and pianist who was a former student of jazz great Mr. Teddy Wilson

in New York City before World War 2 . The suppression of the 1956 Revolution put an abrupt end to this activity

as it necessitated my escape from Hungary.

My next protracted stay was in Heidelberg, Germany where I became the proud co-owner of a used DKW

motorcycle. This old machine was the source of much enjoyment - when it was running.

I was never an obsessive person and as such I was easily attracted to a variety of experiences. To several of

these I kept returning cyclically instead of continuing with the dogged pursuit of a few. I enjoy to sample life

in its many manifestations, I enjoy exploring the unknown, I am open to new experiences, in fact I seek them

out. I draw the line, however, when it comes to drugs. I diligently avoided and continue to avoid the company

of those who use drugs and never succumbed to the temptation of drugs, I need to add, that I did not equate

pipe smoking with drug taking until I decided to stop smoking some 20 years ago. My most highly prized

possessions are my psychological individuality and my mental functioning. They make me the person who

I am. I would not dare to put such precious possessions knowingly in jeopardy by experimentation with drugs.

There are many ways, other than drugs, to finding enjoyment, contentment and fulfillment. I stopped smoking

and my current habit of enjoying one glass of wine or beer with my dinner is not considered unhealthy by the

high priests of my profession. Thus I pursue this without guilt, without passion and with quiet satisfaction.

TRAVEL. Oh yes, travel. How much I used to enjoy it. While limits to such activities were set

by the limited availability of both time and money, I still managed to visit several countries in

Europe, the majority of the states in the U.S. and set foot on all continents with the exception

of Antartica. Several of these trips stand out in my memory for various reasons.

I fondly remember a trip (1980) to different Western European countries with my three sons.

We visited London, crossed the English Channel on a ship, went to Paris, took the train to the

city of Nancy in Eastern France, my first residence in the Free World after escaping from

Communist Hungary in 1956. I also took them to the old University city of Heidelberg in Germany,

where I earned my Doctor of Medicine degree. The high point of the trip occurred in Vienna,

Austria, where we met by beloved step mother who was able to obtain a permit from the

Hungarian authorities for such visit. As it happened, that was the last time we saw her alive.

When my youngest son Greg completed college (1990) I took him on another European trip.

Just the two of us. We concentrated, in the most part, on visiting prehistoric sites. In England

we saw, besides London and Salisbury, Stonehenge and Avebury and the then ubiquitous

crop circles. In France (guided by the practical and eminently portable "Les Haut Lieux De

La Prehistoire en France" by J-M Geneste et al) we visited several Neolithic stone monuments

and burial mounds in Brittany, admired Cromagnon cave arts in the Dordogne valley area and

while we were in the Southern part of France we took advantage of the offer of a patient of mine

to visit them in Monte Carlo who treated us with extraordinary kindness and generosity. We

were put up in the Hermitage Hotel and a large Mercedes with driver was placed at our disposal.

For good measure I was asked to participate in a joint medical consultation concerning one

member of the family with a French colleague who was flown in from Paris. Following this stop

at the French Riviera we headed East. By this time the hostilities between the Soviet Block and

the West eased considerably, the Iron Curtain just fell and I had the chance to show Greg the

city of Budapest and also to pay a visit to my aging maternal uncle, Professor Jan Knazovicky,

who was a well-known than retired surgeon living in the Eastern Slovakian town of Kosice

(a.k.a. Kassa or Kaschau),

A visit to Spain in 1986 is likewise preserved among my cherished memories. Undertaken with

my then companion Nereida de la Torre (a.k.a. Nellie Rosado and Nellie Parkhurst), the

combination of her easy charms, vivacity, knowledge of the native tongue and her welcoming

relatives proved to be just the right ingredients for a memorable trip.

In general my more extensive trips are preceded by a long period of preparation, consisting of

data collection from books, magazine articles that have been saved for years and of personal

reports heard. The last step is a detailed planning of our itinerary. The purpose of this is to

assure that we will not miss things that are much interest to us at a given location. You might

ask, why is that important? What you leave out today you can see at your next visit. As I got

older the fallacy of such assumption hit home with increasing clarity: in life a second chance

is rarely given. Don't count on it.

By the time I start on a journey I have a fair familiarity with the history of the country and the

significance of the places we plan to see. The purpose of planning is that time is not wasted.

However nothing is considered unalterable. While I am on a trip and learn of the existence of

a place that has more interest to me than places I planned to see, I don't hesitate to make a

last minute change.

When we set out with Nereida on our trip to criss-cross the USA (1989), as usual, the places we

planned to visit were chosen and our ten year old Diesel driven Mercedes was trusted to take us

around. The car indeed lived up to our expectations with only one defect occurring - but that at

the most inopportune place. The car's air conditioning system broke down while we were driving

in the Death Valley Dessert - known for the highest recorded temperatures in the US. - Fortunately

there were no serious consequences. - Underway, again as usual, "last minute" changes were

made when during my bedtime reading of the American Automobile Association's state by state

tour guide I discovered a yet unknown place of interest. At other times locals or other tourists

made useful recommendations that made us to modify - most often ad to - the number of places

to visit. Also leaflets or books on locations we visited gave us ideas about other places of similar

interest. Gradually it became our habit to seek such information among the displayed material.

Contrary to general beliefs, the United States abounds not only in spectacular vistas, but also in

archeological, historical and social monuments. Unfortunately many such precious sites that are

of great cultural importance and of immense education value are off the proverbial "beaten path"

and thus are missed by many out of state visitors. Thus it might be of some interest to list some

of our stops, since I made a deliberate attempt to include places of such cultural - historical

interest in our itinerary, alongside with visits to many of our country's natural wonders. The list

that follows however is not a comprehensive one. It should be regarded merely as a sampling

of such places.

An excellent guide to archeological sites in the U.S. and in Canada is the book America's

"Ancient Treasures" by Franklin and Mary Elting Folsom, University of New Mexico Press,

Albuquerque. My copy is the 3rd edition, 1983.

Some of the places we visited:

In historic PENNSYLVANIA the Moravian Village in Bethlehem; the Ephrata Cloister - the site of an

18. century German religious communal settlement; the Amish settlement in Lancaster county;

the Gettysburg battle ground; Harmony village - the first settlement of the members of Harmony

Society, organized in 1805 and Old Economy, both located in the Pittsburgh area north of that city

and both belonging in succession to the same communal group.

(The interested individual can learn about these and other experimental forms of communal living in

"Heavens on Earth: Utopian Communities in America 1680-1880" by Mark Holloway, 1966, Dover);

Another stop was the Meadowcroft Village Rock Shelter - a very early American Indian archeological

site that was a challenge to find. Unfortunately excavations were not in progress when we were there.

But at least, with the help of the locals. we could see the rock shelter, the site of the celebrated find.

In OHIO the 200 BC - AD 500 Hopewell Indian burial mounds in Chilicothe, the famous prehistoric

Indian earthwork and sacred place called Serpent Mound; and the solitary mound near Miamisburg

that belonged to Adena culture Indians.

[While in this general area I suggest a visit to Mammoth Cave National Park in KENTUCKY. The cave

has more than 300 miles of mapped passages making it the longest cave in the world. Tours of various

lengths are available all providing spectacular sights. It is of medical interest that in 1839 the physician

Dr. John Croghan bought Mammoth Cave and established a tuberculosis hospital inside it. Unfortunately

it failed as an effective treatment for the disease. During our trip of 1989 we bypassed Mammoth Cave.

My familiarity with the cave dates from another visit to the area.]

In INDIANA: we stopped at city Madison where one can see an intact medical office and residence

from the horse and buggy era, belonging to a "Doctor W. D. Hutchings". We visited Angel mounds

tin Evansville and he former New Harmony settlement that was founded in 1814 by the Harmony

Society and sold in 1825 to Robert Owen for a utopian "community of equality".

In ILLINOIS, near East St. Louis, in Collinsville is the partially excavated prehistoric Indian city of

Cahokia. that was first inhabited around 700 A.D. by Indians of the Late Woodland culture. It is a

UNESCO recognized World heritage site and is the only known prehistoric Indian city north of

Mexico. The Lincoln Home National Historic Site is in Springville and is open to the public.

The village of Bishop Hill was the site of yet another religious communal settlement, known as

the Jansonite Colony. Its members were Swedish immigrants. Many of the buildings have been

preserved by the descendents of the founders and can be visited.

The writer Carl Sandburg's birth place is located in the middle of the prairie in the village Galesburg.

Many Sandburg memorabilia are on exhibit.

The Amana Colonies are located in eastern IOWA. The different closely placed Amana villages

were built by German utopian religious communalists. Today the descendents of the founders

own it as stockholders of a holding company. Visitors are welcomed. I was cheered by the sight

of an early medical office that has been preserved and shown during our tour. There is also a

restaurant where one can taste traditional "early German" food. I found the food to be more of a

culinary curiosity than delight.

West from here in SOUTH DAKOTA and in WYOMING The Badlands, the Ogala Sioux Indian Tribe's

"Land of Red Cloud", the Wall Drug Store, the Rushmore National Memorial, the Devils Tower,

the Bighorn National Forests, the Buffalo Bill Historical Center and Museum constitute worthwhile

stops, before one reaches Yellowstone National Park. This is a very beautiful part of the Country.

After visiting Yellowstone, we changed our former westward direction, and turned south to reach

the Grand Teton National Park - a singularly breathtaking sight - and proceeded to Salt Lake City, Utah.

We made several stops in UTAH as we visited the Canyonlands National Park, Arches National Park,

Natural Bridges National Monument, the Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park, the Navajo National

Monument, Lake Powell, Kanab, Bryce Canyon National Park and the Zion National Park. This state

has an abundance of stunning geological formations, including the magnificent Grand Canyon that

is situated at the Utah - Arizona border. This we visited later in our trip when we were in Arizona.

From Utah we continued our trip in westerly direction through Las Vegas, Nevada to the Death

Valley National Monument in CALIFORNIA. The high point here is the "deep point" and it is to be

found in the Badwater Basin. This is known as the "lowest, hottest, and driest place in the United

States". The elevation here is minus 282 feet, that is way below sea level . This is a beautiful and

intimidating territory. According to a leaflet, entitled "How to Survive Your Summer Trip Through

Death Valley" and was available at the Tourist Center, here the "Ground temperature in summer

is seldom less than 65 degrees Celsius (150 degrees Fahrenheit) and may reach 93 degrees

Celsius (200 degrees Fahrenheit)." A visit here makes you appreciate Ruth Kirk's sentiment, that

"Desert is land stripped to the essentials, freed of superficialities; and living in it can revitalize one's

perspective."

While exploring this strange and stunning territory, a place where you feel utterly vulnerable and

yet are energized by the next challenge that might materialize at any moment, I was taken back by

the sight of a rather large stone marker. The text on it said: "Ashford Mill Ruins - In 1914, Gold ore

from the Golden Treasure Mine, 5 miles to the east, was processed here for shipment to a smelter.

Legend has it that the Ashford brothers sold the mine for $50,000 to a Hungarian count, who later

sold it to B. W. McCausland for $105,000".

The word "Hungarian" touched responsive cords. Did this "legendary" count exists? Who was he?

What was his name? How on earth did he find his way to this devilish place, and still how much

better off he was than were his compatriots who at the same time were trapped in Central Europe

and experienced the hell that World War One was.

Although to us California counted as "explored territory", but since we were "so close" to the West

Coast, we decided to visit Nereida's parents and brothers who all lived in the Los Angeles area. We

were ready for a few days of rest. After spending so many nights in motel rooms, we vied the comforts

of a real dwelling place. The car too needed maintenance go-over before heading back to the East

Coast and its air conditioner was in need of repair. Besides Nereida did not see her aging parents

for some time now. Thus with reasons for a break in L.A. being numerous and weighty, we both

voted "aye". The path we took to Los Angeles however was not the shortest possible, because we

wanted to enlarge our experience with driving through the Mojave Desert.

After a happy family reunion and a few days of rest we began our return trip. We took Interstate 10

east, heading to Arizona. Our first stop in ARIZONA was a very personal one. It had nothing to do

with American history or geology. It was to see an old acquaintance from the early days of the

Hungariananticommunist Revolution of 1956. He studied at an agricultural college, as he told me,

and in those days he was running a life stock farm near the city of Tucson, in the vicinity of the

town Marana. Mr. Gergely Pongratz was expecting us. On the basis of his directions given me

earlier, we had no difficulty finding him. We were genuinely pleased to see each other. We stayed

for the rest of the day, toured the expansive ranch, admired the well-maintained animals - mostly

pigs and some goats - took photographs, met one his sons, who was working with him and had

just returned from a trip to Los Angeles where he was delivering life stock in a large truck. Gergely

was a welcoming and gracious host.

After dinner, while still sitting at the table, we lapsed into a conversation recalling shared memories.

Since my recollections differed in several respects from Gergely's account in his book "Corvin Koz ,

1956" (1982 edition)and since we both agreed that accuracy is important in a historical account, we

further agreed that I will write done my recollections and mail it to him. (As per our agreement I did

mail him my account on November 27, 1989.)

The interested reader can find a description of the place and circumstances of our initial encounter

on this website by going to "Contents" and clicking on "Revolutionary Activities in Hungary 1956".

Not long thereafter, inspired by the collapse of the Soviet Empire, Gergely returned to Hungary to

help in the restoration of freedom. According to the Boston Globe - May 26, 2005, page C-15 - he

died of an apparent heart attack on May 18, 2005 in Kiskunmajsa, Hungary. Incidentally, the writer

of the obituary, requested permission to use one of my photographs he found on the internet to

accompany his article. It was a picture I took of Gergely during our 1989 visit to Marana, AZ.

The next day we left Marana and headed to the northern reaches of Arizona. Further stops were

made in Phoenix, at Montezuma Castle National Monument, Sedona, the South Rim of the Grand

Canyon, this giant incision on the body of the Earth revealing the many layers of subsurface

deposit not unlike a surgical cut reveals the layers of subcutaneous tissue. The fantastic Meteor

Crater was our next stop followed by the Petrified Forest National Park, the Painted Desert, the

J. L. Hubbell Trading Post National Historic Site, the Canyon De Chelly National Monument, then

on to the Four Corner area were the corners of the states of Utah, Colorado, New Mexico and

Arizona meet. Here our main object was the famous Anasazi Indian "cliff palace" of Mesa Verde.

The entrance to the National Park is from US 160 in southern COLORADO. After visiting Mesa

Verde we continued our eastward course, past through the idyllic Durango area.

From Durango we followed US 550 south into NEW MEXICO that led us to the vicinity of the Chaco

Culture National Historic Park, another important Anasazi relic that was occupied about 1,000 years

ago. A word of caution: this site is accessible only when the weather is not inclement, as the access

roads are left unpaved in order to preserve the original appearance of the site. This settlement was

composed of several towns that today are identified by such colorful names as Hungo Pavi and

Pueblo Bonito.

Santa Fe, and Taos to the north and Albuquerque to the south were our subsequent stops. After

completing this northerly loop, which we took in order to see Mesa Verde and the Chaco Culture

Park, we resumed a more steady eastward course on I - 40.

We briefly stopped in TEXAS in the city of Amarillo to see that wasteful Texas statement, a row of

brand new (when buried) Cadillacs (about ten of them) with their nose in the ground and the their

hind-part protruding at circa 70 degree angle. Despite my aversion to such blatant flaunting of

wealth, I have to admit that I did find it not totally devoid of artistic merit.

After driving through the Texas panhandle we found ourselves in OKLAHOMA. In Oklahoma City

I was surprised how much that city changed, to its advantage, since my visit there in the mid 1960s.

After a sharp turn right I - 35 took us to Dallas. After some sightseeing, and the almost obligatory

trip to the National Historic (cowboy) District in Ft. Worth, made another 90 degree turn to the left

and thus were driving once again eastward, at this time on I - 20.

In LOUISIANA we proceeded through Shreveport to Monroe, still on I-20. Not far after Monroe is

Louisiana 17 that takes you to Epps. From Epps the Poverty Point State Historic Site is not far to

the northeast. I wanted to visit it because it is an important Archaic Indian site that was occupied

for about one thousand years by thousand of people at a time starting about 1500 B.C.

The people who lived here constructed geometrically laid out terraces, about 80 feet wide at the

base and and six feet or more high, on which they erected their dwellings. Among the unusual

artifacts uncovered here are the small sharp tools that the archeologists call "microflints" and the

so-called "Poverty Point objects", baked clay balls that were used in the way stones were used

elsewhere, i.e. cooking, throwing. It is believed that shortage of stones in the led to their invention.

These objects are a common find here. Some archeologist estimated that 24 million of them were

made here during the period the village was occupied.

Continuing east on I-20 we arrived to the Mississippi river and after crossing it we found ourselves

in the state of MISSISSIPPI. Our first stop, Vicksburg, is a historically important city with a National

Military Park and National Cemetery commemorating bravery and the loss of life during the Civil War.

Just before reaching Jackson I - 20 intersects Natchez Trace Parkway. This parkway follows an

ancient Indian trail from the city of Memphis in Tennessee to Natchez, Mississippi. We choose to

follow the portion that stretches from Jackson to Natchez, We stopped to see the Mangum Mound

and the imposing Emerald Mound, the third largest temple mound in the U.S. In the city of Natchez

the "Grand Village of the Natchez Indians" and the large number of surviving antebellum mansions

are of interest. Twice during the year, during what is called "Natchez Pilgrimages" most of the

mansions are open and visitors are greated by friendly locals outfitted in Civil War area customs.

This city is a gem that somehow survived the pilferage that was the fete of much of the southern

estates after loosing the Civil War. We arrived during the Fall Pilgrimage and enjoyed the

graciousness that exuded from every corner of the city during that particular time.

We stayed at the mansion known as Ravennaside, that was lovingly restored and operated by a

retired colonel and his wife as a Bed and Breakfast facility.

From Natchez we continued out trip in southerly direction, and entered once again the state Louisiana.

After stops at Baton Rouge and New Orleans we proceeded eastward on I-10 to Biloxi, Mississippi,

than entered FLORIDA. While still following I - 10 east we passed Tallahassee, continued on to

Jacksonville and drove south to St. Augustine. There our destination was the Castillo de San Marcos

National Monument. The impressive fort is an early monument of the Spanish presence in the United

States. It dates from 1672.

From here on our journey assumed a distinct northbound pattern. Among our stops were Savannah,

GEORGIA, Hilton Head Island and Charleston in SOUTH CAROLINA, where we still saw the destruction

inflicted on the area several weeks earlier by Hurricane Hugo. In NORTH CAROLINA we visited the

Cherokee Indian Reservation, also he Great Smoky Mountains National Park where we found the trees

in their autumn pomp. The roughing-it-out life, that predominated during the earlier phases of our trip

now become gentler. We stayed at the magnificent Greenbrier Hotel in White Sulfur Springs in WEST

VIRGINIA, had a Sunday afternoon tea while enjoying classical music at the likewise well-known

Homestead hotel in Hot Springs, VIRGINIA. Then came a ride on the enchanting Skyline Drive in the

Shenandoah National Park. Accidentally we stumbled on the "Montpelier Hunt Race Meeting" that

had its 55th running that year, that we enjoyed. Thereafter we visited the nearby Monticello, Thomas

Jefferson's residence in Charlottesville, than drove to the eastern part of Virginia to pay a visit to

Jamestown, the site of the earliest permanent English settlement in North America. The stops that

followed were the restored early town of Williamsburg and the home of George Washington in

Mount Vernon.

In MARYLAND we visited the Fort McHenry National Monument, the birthplace of our national anthem

and the state's capital, Annapolis that is also home to the United States Naval Academy.

In DELAWARE we drove to Dover and took the ferry to the "Victorian Cape May" in NEW JERSEY. Indeed

a number of Victorian-type houses give a distinct character to a portion of this city. At this point we were

almost home.

We made a largely ceremonial stop in Atlantic City before "sneaking" into Manhattan under the Hudson

river accepting and being grateful for the passive assistance rendered to us by the Lincoln Tunnel and

for the welcoming whisper of Manhattan that was so faint that we were the only one who could hear it.

Trips with unexpected adventure

I used the term "memorable trip" earlier. However this is an inexact term. What is memorable to one person

might be indifferent to another. The question arises, what is it that makes a trip memorable? Obviously it

must be something that has an element of surprise, something that is not usually regarded as a necessary

part of the trip, something that is not only unexpected and rare but carries the potential for weighty

consequences.

I thought that I will fulfill the above requirements by selecting those trips where the most extreme almost

happened, where death was a distinct possibility. These trips, I would call them most adventurous, took

place while traveling with Tina Walker, with whom I shared my life - including my travels - since 1991.

I hasten to add, that Tina was not the cause of any of these incidents. It just happened that we were

together at those times and thus these became shared experiences. Additionally I do not want this to

imply that my life was not endangered before I met Tina. My life was endangered during World War 2

when in the area we lived in Hungary the occupying German forces were pushed back by the invading

Red Army, Also my life was repeatedly endangered during the Hungarian Revolution in 1956, and

during automobile accidents, crashes and falls of different kinds. In the followings I will limit myself to

brief description of incidents that occurred during trips that were undertaken innocently to visit a

family member or while on route to a common tourist destination when suddenly something went wrong.

[ Under construction ]

I still find motorcycling, target shooting, horseback riding and camping as superb and nurturing diversions as I

do swimming, skiing and playing and listening to classical and jazz music. I still partake in these activities on a

sporadic basis favoring one over the other at different times. You might argue that some of these activities are

dangerous. I could not dispute that.

Of course I had my share of falling with skis, being thrown off horses and "laying down" my motorcycle. - In 1996 I

succeeded in totally ruining my K75S BMW motorcycle and broke my right arm in the process. - Yes, motorcycling is

not for everybody; yes, danger is ever-present; and yes, one must exercise caution. Though, on a philosophical note,

isn't it preferable to live and die a free man - with all the perils associated with it - than to rot safely in prison?

More recently, that is after totaling my BMW, I have been riding a modified Harley-Davidson Sportster 1200, thereafter

a Kawasaki Concourse sport touring "bike" and now again a custom Sportster 1200C. It is a truism that in all of our

activities we must exercise prudence while not to allow ourselves to be immobilized by fear. For me my motorcycles

have been instruments of instant escape from the concerns of the world. As soon as the engine begins to roar, your

pulse quickens, you adjust your mirrors, check your brakes, play a little with the throttle and, almost in a state of trance,

"hit the asphalt". Intense concentration, precise interplay of sight, reflexes, and muscles, rapidly passing visual

perceptions, the background music of the powerful engine, the constant vibration of the motorcycle that is reminding

you of your precarious situation, they all contribute to the narrowing down of your reality to you, to the road and to

your machine. For the time being everything recedes from conscious memory, everything loses importance and the

moment alone is experienced as real. Pronto, modern nirvana!

RETURN TO CONTENTS