AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION RESPONSES:We asked for your most embarrassing moto-moment and received some gems. Names have been changed to protect the innocent.
Can't say I've had a real stupid one, but my buddy had a decent one......
So there he was, after a nice fresh rain idling at a stop sign. Stupidity starts to creep into his brain. "How about a nice smoky hole shot?" he thinks. "Boy, that would impress by buddy next to me and the van behind me".
Without thinking any further, he clicked into gear and revs the 1200 Sportster up to 5,500 rpm before dumping the clutch. The rear ends kicked WAY out the side and he bailed like a rookie cowboy on the wildest horse at the rodeo. The bike did a nice circle in the road and he sailed headfirst into a mailbox. Quite a site.The guy in the van had a hard time containing the laughter......
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Things went pretty well at first. The snow actually provided a decent amount of grip (only a little worse than Summit Pt. in the wet). I happily rode in, staying in 1st and 2nd gear most of the way, being careful not to do anything sudden, etc. After a couple miles, only 500 yards or so from school, curiosity got me. The whole time I'd been riding the bike hadn't slipped or slid, and I was wondered how close to the edge I was. So, when I was going around a bit of a corner in 2nd gear, I whacked the throttle on and off.
Well, it turns out I'd be doing a masterful job of keeping the bike just barely on the right side of the edge... The back tire instantly spun up and started stepping out to the left. By this time I was back off the throttle and waiting for the tire to grip again, but I wasn't having any luck. The bike just kept pivoting slowly around to the left. After what felt like about 10 seconds or so, I was going down the road mostly backwards, rear wheel _still_ not hooking up. Eventually I just sorta fell over. I was laughing so hard by that point that it was impossible to get hurt.
I jumped up, still chuckling at the stupidity of zinging the throttle in the snow on a 500lb streetbike, and picked the bike up. Only then did I see the police car off the left with the officer inside shaking his head and looking amused at the display of riding ability he'd just seen. I gave him a little wave, got back on the bike, and rode off. I didn't zing the throttle again until spring.Mark
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It started out as a beautiful day in June. A Sunday. I had gotten out early to go riding with a friend. We both have 1998 blue Yamaha R1's. We had hatched a plan to go riding and take Mike's new digital camera to capture the action. We had a few cool places picked out to get a knee down and do some wheelies for the camera.
First stop: a feeder road with no intersections and little traffic. I agree to go first and do a few wheelies for the camera. We are totally decked out, Mike in his Yamaha leathers, I in my Dainese, R1's polished up real nice.
Mike takes up his position down the road and gives me the thumbs up. Now I am not a wheelie god like some people I know. I can do 'em, but I usually can't do those long 4 and 5 gear lurid jobs that my buddy with the 916 SPS can. But hey, on an R1, we're all wheelie meisters, right? I figure I'll crack off a few easy 1-2 gear wheelies and maybe luck into a 1-2-3 that I have done on occasion. Mike will get the shot, we post 'em up, good fun!
It starts great. I get a good two gear wheelie right off the bat but Mike tells me the camera didn't focus. Ok, I do another one not as good but Mike gets the shot. "One more!" he says. I oblige. This is actually a pretty good wheelie, a rare (for me) three gear. It doesn't focus again. "One more!" he says. I ask him at that point, "What? Are ya gonna keep makin' me do this until I crash?" ha, ha, wink, wink
"One more from the other side!" he says. So I go to do one more. This time I'm going uphill instead of downhill, this would turn out to be a mistake. The wheelie starts out in first and gets pretty high pretty quick but I am approaching Mike and the camera so I try to keep it there. Now, if you've ridden an R1, you know first gear returns plenty of thrust and when the front wheel is off the ground it can be a very delicate situation. Well, one more blip of the throttle, catch second.......uh oh, what's that? That's my rear fender on the ground, dragging. Damn never done this before, uh oh, I'm not going straight anymore.
I fall off the back. I see the bike continue on. You know, with throttle closed, it came right back down on the front wheel and then slowly low sided on the left.
My leathers, boots, helmet and gloves did a real nice job. I ended up with a bruise across my ass the size of a drive-in movie screen, but nothing else. The bike wasn't bad, about $500 for a couple of fairing pieces, clutch lever, dyno cover, etc. The leathers and boots are scuffed but basically ok.Mike got the shot. Thanks Mike. Later that day, I later realized the date of the fateful loop incident, the 13th. It wasn't my lucky day. Crashing isn't funny, but when you do crash by being a dumbass in front of a camera, it's hard not to laugh. I hadn't crashed in 22 years until that date.
Mack Ames
Oklahoma City####
One of the very funniest crashes was way back in '72 when I had my very fast H2 three cyl kawasaki with ported cyls, 34mm yamaha carbs and pipes made to the h2r specification.
On this particularulary cold and humid day my friends Dave Cooke (who outran fast Freedie at TWS in a stock 400 class) and Bob Lunsford (owner of Lunsford honda in Houston) had just got a new Pantera. Much discussion led to see what vehicle was fastest top side, my bike or his car. So, after we had gone away out the freeway to get to where we could open em up, I had discovered that my gloves were frozen and I could not hold the throttle on.
When we had gotten to a spot where we could stop and B.S. I also discovered that the extreme cold around 35f at 150mph+ my pants had frozen from the moisture and I could not put my feet down when I stopped . I fell down in one of the busiest intersections in Houston in the middle of traffic. My jeans were frozen, I was lying on the ground with my hands froze to the bars and my legs froze to the foot pegs.
Dave and Bob said that it was the funniest thing they had ever seen similar to Laugh-In but much more dramatic.###
A couple of years ago I went to pick up my GSXR-750 at the local cycle center. On the way home I got behind a particularly slow moving and rather smoky RV driven by one of the fine geriatric citizens from Florida. While attempting a safe pass of said RV on the left hand side of the road (four lane highway of course) I was rudely cut off.
I was kind of annoyed by this lack of attention paid by the driver and his careless toward me. After I finally managed to get by the rough looking motorhome I did something totally stupid. While trying to convey the message that I was not too happy about the previous events I quickly whipped in front of the offending driver. I guess I whipped too quickly because the rear end of my bike lost grip. This resulted in a nice big highside right in front of the RV. While tumbling along the road I remember thinking " God, wasn't that stupid?".
After coming to rest under a nice soft guardrail and taking inventory of my body I went to look for my bike. It wasn't far and thankfully very little damage had been done. About five minutes after the crash I realized that my arm had been broken l. That isn't the bad part. I guess the pain from my arm had masked another sensation that I did not notice for another couple of minutes. While standing by the road I bent over several time with my back to traffic to pick of little pieces of smashed expensive plastic. It wasn't until I heard a horn blow and someone shout "wooowee" that I felt the draft. Yes, I had torn the entire ass-end of my jeans out. Luckily my underwear was intact and incredibly still clean.
I guess it does pay to listen to your mother when it comes to affairs of the underwear. C.J.W.
While using my clip on equipped Yamaha RD 400F to do some quick shopping in town, I neglected to put up side stand and all was well till I need to turn left and .......Yes it wouldn't turn, so going straight I hit a curb and high sided on to the grass . Doing a " Tuck and Roll technique I popped up onto my feet to a round of applause . Not knowing where it was coming from as the street was bare , I was puzzled till I looked up and there on the telephone pole was a line crew (3) applauding and cheering .
After initial embarrassment I took a long bow ,retrieved my bike and proceeded home .
I now NEVER forget to put up the side stand .......Lesson Learned
Carl J. Bennett###
After working 48 hours straight building an overbore 1988 RS250, I drove 3+ hours on no sleep to Oak Hill Raceway in Texas.
The bike was OLD when I bought it, but a pair of special cylinder came with the bike. They were sleeved (shoulda been my first clue) and cut down in order to accept 1987 Honda CR125 pistons. I bought 4.5 mm oversize Wiseco pistons (2nd mistake), and I had the cylinders bored per the specifications that came with the pistons. The cylinders were ported and polished, and I was looking forward to some new found grunt and speed.
Upon arriving at the track, I registered for the races. Then I started finishing assembly and safety wiring the bike. Rolled through tech just in time for the first practice and then set about the process of breaking in my new motor (with steel sleeves and aluminum pistons ... see where this is going).
At the end of the front straight of way, beginning the fourth lap of break-in, the motor seized, locking the rear tire (as opposed to your more normal, more tame, two stroke seizure). Fortunately, I was straight up and down, so I managed to grab the clutch in time, and did not get tossed on my head.
By the time the crash truck delivered me back to the pits, I decided that maybe I should see if it'd start (after cooling down). Sure enough the motor that ten minutes before was seized solid, now ran better than ever.
Of course, I hadn't had enough, so I decided to complete the break in during the second practice session. Since I was only going about 75% I had a shirt on with a big red "X" on to indicate that I was not up to full speed. Well, in turn 5 (a reasonably fast downhill right hander) of the second lap, someone decided that they needed to pull a desperate outside pass on the "slow guy", and he ended up tearing my left handle bar off the bike. I still managed to stay upright.
Back in the pits, I replaced the handle bar. However, in my mind the motor is still not broken in, and the earlier seizure had me pretty concerned. I decided to race. However, I didn't want to race with this overwhelming fear of a seizure in every corner. So, I thought I'd go out on the warmup lap and just wring its neck ... better to crash on the warm up lap than in traffic.
Sure enough in the kink before turn seven at the end of the back straight, as soon as I down shifted, the bike seized, the front tucked, and I got tossed several feet into the air right in front of the grandstand. On the warm up lap, don't forget!
I learned afterwards on the 2 stroke mailing list that whatever Wiseco's overbore tolerance is, you should double it ... who knew. I probably shouldn't have been screwing around with steel sleeves on such an exotic motor, anyhow.
I still have the bike, and I'm pleased to say that I'm having more fun than ever. I put all the stock parts back on it, I jet it fat, and I just go play. The bike is now Vintage 6 legal, and in my first two races since, I've scored a first place and a second place in Vintage 6, and a fifth place in Formula against the new bikes.###
I could hardly wait until my 16th birthday, the day that I could get my motorcycle license. That day I went down to the DMV and wrote my beginners and exactly one month later went and did my full license. I took the day off from school so I could do the test early and then have the rest of the day for riding.
I was a pretty good rider so I passed the test easily and then took to the streets proud that I had finally made my dream come true. I was riding through town about 3 hours after the test when I saw a girl walking down the sidewalk so I kind of checked her out for a second or two and gave her the big Pepsodent smile.
I was looking pretty cool until I looked forward again to see a pickup stopped dead in front of me, all I had time to do was say shit and then I flipped into the air landing in the back of the truck.###
A friend and I were riding to a bar in DC that had a motorcycle night. I was on my Hawk GT, a great little wheelie machine (not as good as my new Aprilia RSV Mille, but that's a different story!) This bar was located in an alley, so the bikes could park right out front. Well, of COURSE I just had to pull a nice little wheelie right in front of the bar, set it down, lock up the back a little, and kinda slide into my parking space.
I put the sidestand down and stepped off the bike as my friend pulled up to my left. I was still holding the left grip as he hopped off of his bike. I let go of the grip, turn to walk towards the bar, and PLOP - the bike tips over onto me, knocking me into my friends bike, and trapping me between the two. I had put the kick stand on a rock!
The bikes weren't hurt, but my ego was when the bouncer said, with a totally straight face, "Hope you didn't scratch your bike."###
1978: I just bought a Kawasaki 1000 ltd, took off all chrome and put on low drag bars and a yosh pipe, it looked pretty racy.
First month i went to a big beach party the kind where everyone's in the front yard, as i pulled up to the party i went to make like a small u-turn so i could back up against the curb, when i hit the front brake the tire was on a little piece of tree branch and the front dropped like five hundred pounds dropped from a truck, in front of about a hundred people.
When i tried to lift it back up the gas was pouring from the cap and my feet were slipping out from me and i dropped it a couple more times. Not pretty...DON
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The year was 1996. It was a gorgeous, sunny day in Mansfield, Ohio. My buddy, Crazy Carl, suggested I try out his new Honda F3. Being the bodacious biker babe that I am, I quickly accepted the offer and plopped my little 5'2" 130 lb. self right on the saddle. With a twist of the wrist and a drop of the clutch, I was off in a flash! After floating effortlessly through some prime twisties and feeling what 110 mph felt like on a long stretch of deserted back country roads, I headed back to Mansfield. That was the smoothest bike I had ever ridden! I talked Crazy Carl and my husband, Gary, into going out for another ride that evening. (I got to ride the F3 again in our cozy little group of three....that Carl, what a swell guy.......)
As we were riding through town, I got stuck at a red light but Carl and Gary were able to get through. Thinking I could catch up to them by taking a short cut through a drive to the left I made the turn only to get boxed in by a dead end. I had to turn the bike around in a small area with a slight decline in the pavement. Being vertically challenged and on an unfamiliar bike, I set my left foot down for a little extra security as I made my turn. Bad move! My foot slid on loose gravel and I lost my balance. Down goes Claudia and Crazy Carl's new Honda F3! I wrecked at 1 mph!! Duh!?! By this time Carl and Gary swung back around on their scooters. They help me pick up the bike and survey the scratches in the body work. There was no major damage and Carl wasn't too upset......"It's only metal and plastic, no big deal." (That Carl, what a swell guy...) That's good, because the cost at the emergency room for for the torn ligament in my thigh was pricey enough. A wreck at 1 mph and I end up on crutches because I can't bear weight on my left leg!
Feeling kind of bummed for the next few days, Carl and Gary suggest I get back on (my bike, a 250 cc Yamaha SRX) and ride. What a great idea! Isn't that main reason to ride anyways....to feel better and "get away from it all"...... I still had one good leg left so I could put that one down when we came to stops..... or could I? Bringing up the rear as we approached a busy intersection, the shoe lace on my right side hiking boot got caught on the rear brake lever. I tried to yank it loose but couldn't. Now I'm stuck, I can't put either foot down and I have to stop! Thankfully Gary reached the intersection first. As I slowly pulled up to his immaculate 1990 BMW K75 RT, I gently reached out for his gas tank. Unable to fully understand my excited and muffled gibberish coming through my helmet, he finally saw my shoe lace predicament. As he reached down to release my shoe lace, I accidentally hit his hand and popped his clutch. Gary loses balance on his Beemer and tips over to the right. Still unable to free my good leg, I tip over on top of Gary. What an interesting sight...motorcycle dominoes! Oh man, another 1 mph crash and this time I took out two bikes at once! That's three bikes down in less than seven days at a cost of $254.38 (hospital charges, fiber glass, touch-up paint, etc.)
There is a good ending to this story with lots of lessons. First of all, Gary still loves me even after I took him out. (What a swell husband.....) Secondly, never underestimate the value of always wearing the proper motorcycle riding gear; our leather riding pants prevented any burns while we were tangled in-between exhaust pipes during our domino re-enactment. Thirdly, always ride with good buddies if you can. (Especially ones named Crazy Carl......)
Claudia Raff
Mansfield, OhioAnd, the best story from Saturday:
Back in the mid-70's we had a little dirt oval... test track ...out behind the shop where I worked. My dirt riding skills back then were pitifully poor (and still are), but I thought I could ride like a pro anyway - lack of experience has never been an obstacle to a natural talent like me.
So there I was one day, cutting fast laps and doing my best Kenny Roberts imitation of a full-lock slide (on a customer's lightning fast Honda SL-70), when the back wheel slid out and I became a human wishbone, one foot still hooked over the seat and the other dragging the ground behind me. I smacked my ass against the dirt hard enough to split the crotch seam of my shop uniform's pants, which would have been embarrassing enough. The real pain of the situation was due to the fact that, as a really swinginÇ 70's-kind-of-guy, I wasn't wearing any underwear.
This was truly a wide-open crash, and as I went down I probably scooped up two or three pounds of fine Indiana dirt and sand into the gaping maw.
When I stood up after the crash, something definitely didn't feel right down below --there was an uncomfortable bulging sensation in a highly personal place, and I really didn't want to think about the possibilities.
Everything came out all right in the end, though. A quick trip to Dr. Jellyfinger and a supply of suppositories worked wonders to restore things to regularity. The mound of dirt left lying on the examining table was enough to convince me that a future in dirt tracking wasn't in my cards.
And I realized that my mother's advice to always wear clean underwear was probably a good thing, too.
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Nice fiction award:
I was cruising (you know lookin' for girls) on my bitchin' '92 Suzuki Katana 600. It was a sweet bike, I had F1 pipes (baffles removed), a green tinted windshield and neon lights in the fairings. Everyone envied that machine.
Well, anyway, I pulled up to a stoplight next to this convertible full of hot chicks, and I thought to myself "Hey, I should do something cool".
So when the light turned green, I dumped the clutch for an instant wheelie. I looked over and saw that the girls were so impressed that they couldn't even look at me. All of a sudden my new Nike sandals got caught on the rear brake lever, and WHAM! the front end came smashing down.
It came down so hard that I went right over the front of the bike. It's a good thing I had my heavyweight tank-top on, otherwise I could of been hurt bad. I spent a couple of months in the hospital for some minor surgery. My bike was a mess, but I put a bunch of "No Fear" stickers over the really bad parts and no one noticed.Soon I will be able to ride again, anyone looking for a riding buddy?
Duck Man
