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What's the Dumbest thing you done on your bike?


baylensman

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So I'm not talking about dangerous, like going too fast into a curve that you aren't familiar with. Or something like forgetting to close the lid on your saddle bag and driving for 100 miles.

 

I'm talking about that situation were testosterone is in abundance and common sense was left at home.

 

For me I'd have to go back to the mid 90's. The whole clan, me the wife my two kids with their spouses and everybody's pets, is in the house waiting out some tropical storm or the other. I had plywood on the windows, my car the wives and the kids all sideways in the driveway parked door to door blocking the garage and car port. Winds were sporadic but gusting to 65 or so.The rain was coming in waves every 20 minutes or so. Well I decided I wanted a can of Starbuck's expresso double shot, a cheese burger and a fresh pack of Jewel sweets and to get away for a few minutes.

 

I walked out the front door saw all the cars and figured it was too much trouble to try and jockey one of them out for a little trip to the convince store! Not even thinking twice about the whys and wherefores. I walked over to the car port and pushed the bike out the side door, then thru the gate to the driveway. Although to myself screw the helmet. I jumped on took off and got almost to the main road when the first gust hit me. I swear the bike moved 20 feet sideways!! So what does bright boy do? I hunker down over the tank to reduce my profile and keep going!

 

Needless to say when I got to the local 7/11 there were several cops a prepositioned ambulance the store clerk and me. The looks I got were amazing as I rounded the drive and pulled up. I didn't say a word or even nod to any body, I just walked to the sandwich counter grabbed by burger went to the case and got my expresso and asked the clerk for the cigars.

 

On the way out of the door one of the cops in his foul weather gear steps up to me and says "boy you either got balls like a gorilla or the brains of a chimp" "now get the f$@k off my hi-ways and don't let me see you again"

 

It was about that time that it hit me "You dumb a$$ you went for a bike ride in a freaking Hurricane"

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Ummm, backing my scoot out of a garage by being on it instead of walking it out. My foot hit some built up debris in the driveway and down I went!

 

I know of a member who went quite a few miles (or in his case Kilometers) with his brand new cell phone on the trunk of his bike...

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Back in High School in the mid 70s I had a Harley Sprint 175. Was at a friends house when an ice storm hit. All roads were iced over. Instead of leaving the bike there and getting my buddy to take me home in his car I decided to ride home. Rode 10 miles on residential streets staying of the major roads in first gear with both feet on the ground. Realized about half way home how stupid I was. Took me almost an hour to get home.

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I know of a member who went quite a few miles (or in his case Kilometers) with his brand new cell phone on the trunk of his bike...

 

You know I had almost forgotten about that. Damn thing clung to my trunk for a good 20 miles at highway speed too !

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The 89 Venture was my first big touring bike and I was having troubles getting it onto the center stand. I expressed this to a fellow co-worker and rider and he explained what to do and then threw in the "no-balls" comment that even his 75 year old mother could do it.

 

So after a 14 hour night shift I get home and it's still dark and the family is asleep so I pull the venture out and proceed to do my best 75 year old woman's attempt of putting the bike on the centerstand. After about 10 failed attempts I'm halfway to a heart attack and sweating. I throw everything into it like a wet noodle and drop the bike onto my truck. The whole while my buddy's words resonating in my head. Feeling totally immasculated I decide I'm too tired to deal with it and go inside for a power nap.

 

A few hours later after the wife has gotten up to get the kids off to school I'm awoken to my wife informing me someone tried to steal my bike and messed up my truck. I'm so tired I'm damn near hallucination. In a sleep deprived stuper I walk outside to see the mess this criminal made. Then it all rushes back to me. I explain the whole story in a mumbled blur to my wife. She laughs and sends me back to bed. Took a few days for the ridicule to end. Bike and truck has minor scratching. The scarring to my psyche took awhile to go away.

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Rode from Key Largo up to Hollywood during Tropical Storm David. Mid 80s. All the cars were pulled over during the deluge, but my Honda 750 Supersport was only running on 2 cylinders because of all the constant heavy rain, so I was afraid that if I let the engine stop, it wouldn't start again. I kept it going until I got to where I was going and left it run a while while sitting there, and it straightened itself out.

 

Then there was the time on my Honda XL500 (early 80s) when a buddy and I dared each other to see who could ride the longest with their eyes closed. I counted to 17, listening to the sound of his bike for guidance, when I realized I was off the road and opened my eyes just in time to go around the roadsign I would've clipped. Went off to the side, through the grass, then back on the road without skipping a beat.

 

Then there was the time (same buddy) and I were going to a quarry to swim / float with semi truck inner tubes inflated, around our waist, on the freeway for about 15 miles.

 

Not to mention some of the cliffs we used to climb out at Hillsville, PA. That was on my XL 350, then my XL 500 then my TT 500. That was a hell of a bike. Best thumper I ever rode. Heavy, poor suspension, but you couldn't kill that motor. I dropped it in a pond once, and the only thing above water was the end of the handlebar. Picked it up and kicked it, and it kinda started and ran good enough to ride it out of the pond.... We'd try to climb a telephone pole if someone would dare us to.

Those were some good times.

 

I think back on all the stupid stuff I've done, and am amazed I'm alive and in one piece. I don't think I'm unique in that way. :biker:

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I have friends who have gotten hurt doing dumb things on motorcycles so I don't mess around doing things on bikes that could cause injury, legal problems or - worst case scenario = Tippy Trouble. I do like to participate in threads like this though and I have a cousin my age who did something dumb on his 1100 Virago once when he decided to CTFW with me and Beeg (one of my earlier 1st Gens) on a run out to the west coast = in the spirit of friendly participation, I will write about his dumb behavior.

Chip, my cousin, and I are the same age - grew up in the same town and went to the same school system. Our parents noticed early on that when ever we got together we tended to get into trouble so they let the school admin know that in NO WAY were Chip and I allowed to be in the same class room with the same teacher = this was so all the way thru our school years. Our after graduation separated us even more so, we each got married and went about life raising children and all that.

As the years disappeared and we both matured, I bumped into Chip at a Birthday party for our now deceased Grandma and was shocked when Chip walked up, smacked me on the back of the head and announced that he had heard of the iconic motorcycle adventures I had been taking with my children all over the country and that he was gonna get a bike and "head west" with me so he could experience life as a biker. Of course, I was elated (I could tell by her eyes rolling back in her eye sockets that I was more elated about this plan in the makings then Tip was) and agreed to meet Chip in a couple weeks to help him pick out a new scoot at the local bike shop so he wouldn't have to run on foot behind my Venture all the way from Michigan to California. He really liked the new 92 V-Max sitting on the showroom floor in front of us A LOT but, knowing that there was no way my tired old Blonde 84 Venture that my kids and I had been beating on since 1987 stood a chance at keeping up with that brand new V-Boosted screamer with my cousin hanging onto it for dear life while we CTFW across the vast expanses of the desert region that separates Michigan from Bodega Bay out on "1" (our chosen destination) - I told him I thought he would be much happier on a new Virago 1100.. Thankfully, this worked and he fell for the Virago!!

Chip, the bikes and I pulled into a fuel station just west of Donner Pass. I was busy filling my lungs with the sweet odor of the Ponderosa Pine that all of us touring freaks love so much, as my cousin pulled his freshly fueled, dirty and dented up new Virago next to my over packed tire old Venture (I ended up carrying all our gear in an effort to lighten the load on his unpowered 1100 Virago so he and his putzy bike could somewhat keep up = dork wad shoulda bought the V-Max) with a really puzzled look on his face.. He pointed down at his fuel tank and mentioned something about fuel flowing out from under the bikes fuel cap and wanted to know what he should do about it.. I laughed at his juvenile brain having forgotten about what happens when cold gas hits a fuel tank that has been soaking up the sun all day in 110 degree desert heat - obviously that cousin of mine doesn't have to work to hard to fulfill the requirements of this thread!!!!

After I finished laughing at his foolishness and then yelling at him for doing something so dumb as pulling the foul smelling filthy thing next to Beeg and I where a simple exhaust spark could result in loss of life, both bikes, much needed camping gear and all the food we had - I began making suggestions as to how he could stop the ever increasing flow of fuel that was producing no small puddle under both our bikes.

Following my geniusly inspired directions to simply loosen his gas cap and then tip the bike to the right (away from Beeg and I) to dump some fuel out of it - he proceeded to do so.. As I stood there balancing Beeg between my knees while waiting for something to happen so I could do my best Olympic style judging of the pending catastrophy (Chip usually produces a healthy 9 and NEVER under an 8) I could tell by the scowl on his face that he was needing help keeping his bike from going all the way over so I kindly reached out with my throttle hand and grabbed the left grip of his falling Virago. That was about the time that the sole of the boot on Chip's right foot got just enough fuel under it to cause his foot to slide under his falling Virago which instantly tested the holding strength of the grip of my right hand to the level of rescuing 950 falling pounds of bike and human flesh. Actually I was fairing pretty well until the angle of my trail packed Venture got to the point that it added another thousand pounds to my right leg and the four of us (2 bikes + 2 people = 4 of us) ended up in a tangled up mess in a gas station parking lot just west of Donner Pass.

As Chip layed there with his bike on top of him, me on top of his bike and Beeg on top of me, we started laughing a laugh that I hadn't heard since playing football with him on a third grade play ground and getting trapped together under a jam pile consisting of all the boys in our elementary school!! We would probably still be laying there in that parking lot laughing hadn't we both gotten distracted, at about the same time, by other laughter that was taking place - it seemed that more than one local person who had stopped for fuel that day also got a kick out of the latest exploits of the two bikers from Michigan who obviously belonged to the "Two Cousins M.C., Muskegon Mi." (a club that we started during our trip - we even took tee shirts and drew our club name on the back of them and were wearing them at the time).

Later that evening while we were camped in a Cemetery in California and were laughing while changing our still fuel smelling clothes, we both stopped laughing at almost the same time again as we suddenly realized how close to disaster we had come because of my cousins dumbness..

The End

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OH man do I have to only pick one. Use to work graves shift in an aircraft maintenance control office on base. We went over to one of the guys place on base. He pops open the beer fridge and asks if we want one? Well da huh. Its like 7am So by noon or so we are outs beer, time to go home. I jump on the GS1100 Suzuki Full Dress and motor the 8 or 10 miles home. I still dont remember that drive, that is the LAST time I did anything like that.

I also made a couple of those ice covered road trips the 10 miles home from base. I was in Southwest Oklahoma and the stuff would come in over night and freeze up. Working graves everything was frozen over in am to go home. Rode home in a sleet storm once and when I got home took off my field jacket and it actually stood up in the bath tub with arms straight out like I was holding controls. Thats where it sat until it thawed out.

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River crossing beast.jpg

 

Took my chopped Venture on a gravel road / off-road ride with a few other guys who all rode dirt bikes. Got stuck on a big rock in a river - rock slid ahead and the front wheel dropped into the hole it left. Finally had to get help pushing the bike ahead so that I could finish riding through the water.

zag

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Back when I was younger probably around 60 my buddy Jim and I felt the need for a ride in mid November after working the night shift. We decided the Blue Ridge Parkway would be a good venue for a morning ride. So off we go Jim on his BMW 1200K touring me on a 99 Victory 1500 curiser. We rode together quite a bit and like being a little competitive in the curves just a fun thing to do. Well to get to the BRP we took Highway 21 up the mountain first few curves were great both of us laying over pretty good having a great time. About mid-way up the mountain we hit a switch back covered in black ice. Both of us drift all the way from the right lane across the left lane to the ragged edge before gaining traction. By the time we reached the Parkway both of us got pretty good at drifting on Black Ice. But thats the way it is when your young and dum you just don't take everything in consideration or think about the consequences. Now that I'm 70 I would check my thermometer before a mid November ride to the Blue Ridge Parkway. Adrenalin rush aside it was a fun day for the both of us.:Avatars_Gee_George:

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So I'm not talking about dangerous, like going too fast into a curve that you aren't familiar with. Or something like forgetting to close the lid on your saddle bag and driving for 100 miles.

 

I'm talking about that situation were testosterone is in abundance and common sense was left at home.

 

For me I'd have to go back to the mid 90's. The whole clan, me the wife my two kids with their spouses and everybody's pets, is in the house waiting out some tropical storm or the other. I had plywood on the windows, my car the wives and the kids all sideways in the driveway parked door to door blocking the garage and car port. Winds were sporadic but gusting to 65 or so.The rain was coming in waves every 20 minutes or so. Well I decided I wanted a can of Starbuck's expresso double shot, a cheese burger and a fresh pack of Jewel sweets and to get away for a few minutes.

 

I walked out the front door saw all the cars and figured it was too much trouble to try and jockey one of them out for a little trip to the convince store! Not even thinking twice about the whys and wherefores. I walked over to the car port and pushed the bike out the side door, then thru the gate to the driveway. Although to myself screw the helmet. I jumped on took off and got almost to the main road when the first gust hit me. I swear the bike moved 20 feet sideways!! So what does bright boy do? I hunker down over the tank to reduce my profile and keep going!

 

Needless to say when I got to the local 7/11 there were several cops a prepositioned ambulance the store clerk and me. The looks I got were amazing as I rounded the drive and pulled up. I didn't say a word or even nod to any body, I just walked to the sandwich counter grabbed by burger went to the case and got my expresso and asked the clerk for the cigars.

 

On the way out of the door one of the cops in his foul weather gear steps up to me and says "boy you either got balls like a gorilla or the brains of a chimp" "now get the f$@k off my hi-ways and don't let me see you again"

 

It was about that time that it hit me "You dumb a$$ you went for a bike ride in a freaking Hurricane"

 

The last thing on my bucket list is to ride the bike into a tornado.

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http://www.venturerider.org/forum/attachment.php?attachmentid=111035

 

Took my chopped Venture on a gravel road / off-road ride with a few other guys who all rode dirt bikes. Got stuck on a big rock in a river - rock slid ahead and the front wheel dropped into the hole it left. Finally had to get help pushing the bike ahead so that I could finish riding through the water.

zag

 

I did the exact same thing back in 2008 in the Palo Duro Canyon State park, Texas with tx2sturgis and Silver Bullet.

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http://www.venturerider.org/forum/attachment.php?attachmentid=111035

 

Took my chopped Venture on a gravel road / off-road ride with a few other guys who all rode dirt bikes. Got stuck on a big rock in a river - rock slid ahead and the front wheel dropped into the hole it left. Finally had to get help pushing the bike ahead so that I could finish riding through the water.

zag

 

 

Reminds me of my first "BIG" bike. I had bought brand new in 74" a 500 cc Yamaha DOHC street bike. I'd been riding dirts and motos for years (yes even on the street, as the local police will attest to). One day I was going to see my friend who lived three houses down(we were in the country so big yards about 1/4 mile or so), I always jumped on the dirt bike and just chugged through the field and cut into his driveway from the back. Well lets just say that there is a big difference in the weight to tire width ratio on street bikes and a reason for knobs on the sidewalls of dirt bikes.

 

Getting stuck up to the pipes, in the backyard within sight of the driveway SUCKS OUT LOUD

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Rode my lowered RSTD onto my trailer with a flat tire. Hit the lip of the trailer with my oil drain bolt, took out the oil pan.

Stood there looking down at the oil spreading out to my feet. Still had to get it on the trailer so told my son-in-law to PUSH as I still throttled.

Completely sprayed him with oil. But, got it on the trailer. Seems funny now,,, not so then.

 

Oh,,, gave him the bike last month.

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Years ago riding my Yamaha RD400 on a gravel road "short cut" between two highways, my front wheel began to clog with mud between it and the fender. I wasn't going that fast but as soon as I began to slow, the front wheel began to lock up and slide. Eventually the front wheel stopped, just as the bike did, and we tipped to the left, shooting me into the muddy ditch. It must have looked like the guy on the tricycle on the old "Laugh In" show.

 

Had the rear tire of my "recently" restored 1973 Triumph Bonneville 650 suddenly deflate. Control was to say the least awkward, and got worse (I needed all of that 22' wide highway) as I tried to slow down which I of course had to do. I forsook an opportunity to go into the nice shallow fairly soft ditch, not wanting to fold my forks under and almost immediately regretted it as I thought I was going down on the pavement. Having slowed at that point from about 60 mph to maybe 20 mph which seemed pretty slow, I thought putting my left foot down would be a good idea. I caught my heel on the ground, and my foot slammed down which was mighty painful. My knee was unhappy too. Shortly after, I rolled, sort of, to a stop several miles from town so I walked home on a very sore foot and knee.

 

Heading out for a course early one morning on my 83 Goldwing, I passed the local gravel truck as we were both heading west on a narrow highway. A mile or two later I reached back with my right hand to make sure my saddlebag lid was secure and it wasn't there! Yow!! I pulled over and the gravel truck passed me again, and I felt back with my left hand and the other saddlebag top was ok. I raced back to town 3 or 4 miles looking in the ditches for my saddlebag lid hoping to see it and not its remains crushed by the gravel truck and got all the way home. I opened the garage door to look inside and couldn't find the lid anywhere. Sadly I turned to my bike to get back on and go to the course, and there was the lid, still sitting sideways on the passenger seat where I had set it before leaving earlier.

 

Helping my daughter and her husband unload her Honda 750 Shadow off their pick-up down a 2"x12"x10foot plank.

"I've done this before!" said I, and straddled the bike in the box of the truck while we guided it backwards to the plank.

I'd overlooked the fact that when I "done this before" it was down a 5' wide ramp from my 18" high trailer.

As the rear wheel started to roll down the plank, I applied the front brake to slow things down. (both feet were out to the side to balance on a ramp which wasn't there.)

Front wheel began to slide rearward in the box.

Other than a smooth descent, the next best plan was for the front wheel to push the plank of the tail-gate and drop bike and me down but upright.

The next next best (and also worst) plan was for me and the bike to tip sideways off the plank which we promptly did.

Luckily our fall was broken by my head (no helmet of course as I didn't plan to go for a ride.) and right shoulder so there was no damage to the bike which partly stayed on the plank.

I got to my feet and assured both my daughters and sons-in-law that all was fine. That had always been my plan. No vital fluids were leaking out of me or the bike, so I think they bought it.

 

Looking back at this post it seems like I shouldn't be allowed anywhere near a bike (or maybe even out of the house), but in my defense, these incidents took place over a span of nearly 40 years. On the other hand I didn't seem to learn anything in 40 years. Oh well.

 

Peter

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And I actually forgot one.

 

While riding in a town called Castlegar in B.C. which is built on the side of a mountain, I approached an intersection where there was a stop sign and almost no visibility to the left, so I had to fully stop and take a good look. The road sloped very steeply from left down to the right. I stopped, put my left foot down, and then went to plant my right foot and straighten up the bike, but the road on the right was several inches lower than I anticipated. My foot found only air, and plunk, down I went with my loaded for touring RSTD with a trunk and a bag on top of the trunk.

 

There was no chance I was going to right the bike on my own on a steep slope with the wheels on the high side, but luckily a friendly local approached and helped me out and together we got it up without spinning it around on the pavement. Damage to a passing light, some nicks on the body work and up near the top of the w/s where it hit the curb, and a lot of my pride got bent.

 

I had about a 9 hour ride from there to home, and I was surprised that it took me at least a couple of hours to get back my "good feeling" about riding.

 

Ok. I think that's it.

 

Peter

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Not as impressive but just as dumb. came home on my Kawasaki - car ramps sitting in the driveway about 25 feet from the garage - saw the hot lookin neighbor girl decided to demo a little airborne maneuver off the car ramp - so intent on making sure she was taking notice that I failed to notice the garage door was closed..... That was a long time ago..I like to think I am much smarter now but ....nothing definitive has been proven yet.

Edited by saddlebum
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I stuffed a Yamaha 650 twin into an Amen Hardtail frame with 42 degrees of rake in the neck and hung 16 inches of California Springer on the front of it back in 74. The process of doing that kind of stuff back when I was younger always got in the way of my common sense resulting in, among other things - being late for work..

Worked 3rd shift spinning parts on a turret lathe for an air tool company (Gardner Denver), looked at the clock in garage = 10:35pm :scared: = 25 minutes to get to job 30 minutes away!! Slapped on the remains of my Captain America helmet as shown in my high school graduation picture below (Michigan had helmet law back then), flipped ignition and lights toggle on "The Chop", rapped er good one with my right foot and took off like the gate just dropped on the first qualifier of a Saturdays MX:bikersmilie:!! Straight pipes just singing as I banged er gears while going past the middle school and proceeded into the darkness that the local street lights chased if still in town ..

About a block into the darkness and a pair of car lights came up from the ravine where the creek crossed under the main road leading into our small village.. I was late for work so the potential of a Police Officer being behind the wheel of the lone car with its lights coming at me was gonna just have to add to the risk associated with riding a custom bike at high speed..

As the car past me and the emblem on the side of the car that read "Michigan State Police" became crystal clear, I was guessing the speed of my Chop (Chops with speedos were not considered choppers back then) at approaching 90ish as I was climbing in R's in the little XS's top gear.. Having not taken the time to ram a bicycle mirror into the end of the 6 bends on my scoot, like a flat tracker keeping tabs of his competition I rotated my head under my left arm just in time to see the Patrol Cars brake lights lite up and those bubble gum dispensers do the same...

Fingers tired,, will finish later

DSCN2794.jpg

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I guess I was around 30 at the time. Had a Honda 750-4. A bunch of us were out at the lake partying. There was a big field next to the parking area and we were tossing a frizbe around when somebody came over to me and said my bike was parked in the way of something so, as we're all drinkin and having a good time and full of testosterone (makes a guy become a show-off at times) ... I decide to run over to my bike and jump onto it (like the Lone Ranger mounting his horse) .... well when I landed on the bike, the momentum didn't stop ... me and the bike just kept going and I ended up on the ground with bike on top of me hollerin for help. The guys eventually lifted the bike off me ...After the laffing stopped !!!

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Well I guess it is my turn. I was about 17 and two of my friends and I were out riding one evening. We were playing catch me if you can. I was last in line and catching them when their brake lights came on I shot by them to take the lead as we were getting to a RR crossing at that point the lights of the train hit me. It was about ten feet from the road as I crossed the tracks. When it passed my friends came over and stopped where I was sitting on the side of the road and saying how big my godads were for doing that. I looked up at them and said that I didn't have them as they were just scared off and I could bot get back on the bike just yet.

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