I came to realize some years ago, that my 1972 Triumph Tiger 750 was magic, or I lived a charmed life. Living in the south, it is possible for the young & hardy to ride all year combating cold rain with waxed cottons. Riding to work daily in Atlanta Georgia, I used to cut through Ansley park Headed south west. There was one intersection with a sweeping left feed & a yield sign. One very cold morning I got my first introduction to BLACK ICE there. Coming through that sweeping left turn, it was to late to do anything when I saw it. I didn't change the throttle or brake, I just slithered right across it & the street, still upright, Until the patch ended close to the far curb. At that point I was able to brake & turn hard on the dry pavement I had reached. I couldn't believe my good fortune not having fallen. Later I learned several cars crashed there that day. Just one of many fond memories of close calls. That Triumph saved me (or indirectly caused) quiet a few.