Your Favorite Motorcycle Story?

[6]

Funny, scary, sad, epic, fast... Whats your best story about being on a bike?

Anyone feel like reminiscing?

[squirrelman]

lotsa good stories and adventures here: https://www.youtube.com/@ItchyBoots

around the world motorcycle travel by intrepid dutch female with some awesome drone views of landscapes.

[69Falcon]

Neil Peart’s Ghost Rider. After the loss of both his daughter in an accident and his wife to cancer, he circumnavigated North America on his bike to heal his soul.

[dhotop]

For me personally, it was the first time I rode Utah SR128 south from a little hippie/artist enclave called Cisco all the way to Moab. SR128 follows the Colorado river for about 40 miles, on the backside of Arches National Park. It was recommended to us the day before by someone we randomly met while exploring Black Canyon of the Gunison. We didn't know what to expect and didn't expect much. It was even hard to find the route on the map!

To say our expectations were blown away is an understatement. I've seen some beautiful areas in our country, up/down the west coast, Yosemite, Tahoe, Yellowstone, etc, and I don't know if it was due to no, or low, expectations, but I was so overwhelmed with awe and appreciation with what my eyes were seeing on this route, that I inexplicably found myself wiping tears from my eyes.

It just kept getting better and better as we traveled along the route and I kept thinking to myself that this must be where God goes to hang out when he takes a day off. We may have, by some random chance of luck, hit it at just the absolute best time of year and best time of day to experience the colors, etc to their fullest, but I will say this: I'm not the most religious person in the world, but for those 40 miles, I felt closer to God than I ever had before then.

[6]

For me personally, it was the first time I rode Utah SR128 south from a little hippie/artist enclave called Cisco all the way to Moab. SR128 follows the Colorado river for about 40 miles, on the backside of Arches National Park. It was recommended to us the day before by someone we randomly met while exploring Black Canyon of the Gunison. We didn't know what to expect and didn't expect much. It was even hard to find the route on the map!

To say our expectations were blown away is an understatement. I've seen some beautiful areas in our country, up/down the west coast, Yosemite, Tahoe, Yellowstone, etc, and I don't know if it was due to no, or low, expectations, but I was so overwhelmed with awe and appreciation with what my eyes were seeing on this route, that I inexplicably found myself wiping tears from my eyes.

It just kept getting better and better as we traveled along the route and I kept thinking to myself that this must be where God goes to hang out when he takes a day off. We may have, by some random chance of luck, hit it at just the absolute best time of year and best time of day to experience the colors, etc to their fullest, but I will say this: I'm not the most religious person in the world, but for those 40 miles, I felt closer to God than I ever had before then.

Very very cool! I can feel that feeling by proxy with your write up on it.

Those magical moments happen on bikes. I remember a day Kat and i took a morning, sun up, ride to breakfast on my cx500. Dont know how many miles we did, but covered three states and even watched a SX style MX race under the lights with friends we made on the ride. Coming through VT on the way home at midnight there was just a feeling like "this is what its all about".


Someday maybe ill get to ride out in Utah, sounds magic.

[dhotop]

Those magical moments happen on bikes. I remember a day Kat and i took a morning, sun up, ride to breakfast on my cx500. Dont know how many miles we did, but covered three states and even watched a SX style MX race under the lights with friends we made on the ride. Coming through VT on the way home at midnight there was just a feeling like "this is what its all about".


Someday maybe ill get to ride out in Utah, sounds magic.

Funny, I just looked at an '80 cx500 yesterday but decided to pass on it, interesting bikes though. Oh, VT, beautiful state!. Have never ridden there and its been over 20 years since I've been there, but would love to take a ride through VT.

Much of UT is rather bland, but there are some very nice areas as well. SR128, Moab, Arches and the grand daddy of them all, Zion NP. Of course Salt Lake and that whole area is quite spectacular as well.

BTW, here is a video from a 360 helmet cam taken on my 2nd trip to SR128. It was shot early in the morning & heading north from Moab. Video really doesn't do it justice and there are probably better ones out there. Its also a much more dramatic effect to start @ Interstate 70 & go south, into Moab, than to start there, as in this video. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2-rgjtjvuqM

[ricksax]

In about 1990, my teenage son and I rode a 70 mile enduro in the Tillamook State Forest in Oregon. It was a 35 mile loop out with a gas stop. Dirt bikes in those days did not have large tanks. The idea was you could put your marked gas can on a trailer at the start, and then the trailer would be waiting at the midway checkpoint, way up near South Saddle Mountain, about twenty miles away from the truck by road. It was steep terrain, tight trails, and a hot day, so I was proud we made it to the gas stop.

As we were gassing up and drinking water, two riding buddies pulled up. One was on a Honda XR500, and one was on a blue tank Yamaha IT400 with its side stand removed. They were very tired, and dropped their helmets on the ground and leaned the two bikes standing against each other. The XR guy filled his tank, left the gas cap off and walked away.

I watched as, almost in slow motion, the two bikes began to fall over. It all came together as if choreographed. The IT fell over. The XR fell on it, and dumped a gallon of gasoline into the guy's open face helmet. If you were a videographer, it would require 100 takes to do it that perfectly.

Moral of the story: Tired motorcyclists sometimes do stupid things.

[hnm]

lotsa good stories and adventures here: https://www.youtube.com/@ItchyBoots

around the world motorcycle travel by intrepid dutch female with some awesome drone views of landscapes.

same category: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HStqf_02JrE

[Captain 80s]

I've got a dirt bike one from years ago...

There's an area of mountain trail riding in Eastern Washington called Naches and Little Naches outside of Cle Ellum. Little Naches area is higher and the views of the Cascades is amazing, but it is definitely mountain riding in areas. Single track cut into the side of a rock mountain, trail riding. Like serious problems if you go off.

Well from the "trail head", there are 2 ways to get up to where the real riding begins. One is a long trail that cuts back and forth up this very steep hill of trees and rocks thru a series of switch backs. The second switchback is one of freakiest I've done. Top 5 for sure. The "switch-back" is actually just a ledged boulder sticking out the mountain. You have to get up on it, kinda do a foot-dab wheelie turn, and then continue off the top of the rock and back the other way. BUT, if you went straight just a few feet, it rolls off and then is a cliff. An actual cliff, hundreds of feet high. Fucking sketchy as shit. I've done it 2 times. Well three, I did my wife's bike one time.

The other way up is a hill climb. A LONG, loose rocks and silty flour-like dust hill climb. Steep as shit going straight up the mountain thru the trees that seems like forever. Gotta have some horsepower and skills. By the way, I ride a fully built XR400R, ported / flowed White Brothers head, cam, Arias over size high comp piston, full WB stainless exhaust. It's got some balls for an air cooled dinosaur, and is dead fucking reliable.

Everyone waits at the bottom for their turn. If you hear the guy ahead get a decent start and sounds like he's on "good one", then you give it a bit and go. Also it's nice to let the dust drift off a bit so you can actually see anything. Inevitably you hear somebody have a hiccup or not get over the occasional fallen small tree efficiently, and down they come to get back in line. That's if they haven't buried their bike to the rear axle. It's so steep that just getting turned around to go back down is sketchy, not to mention the actual descent. At a certain point you can't slow down no matter what you do, both wheels locked picking up speed.

The kid in front of me heads up and it sounds like he's got a good one going. Give it a few more moments and I head out. Able to grab third and it's pinned. On a good one, navigate the small trees and wash-outs and keep my momentum. I look up farther and the kid is stopped and stuck. Shit. He can hear me coming and is starting to become frantic. I'm far enough up now I'm not fucking stopping and I don't let up at all. As I get closer, he throws his bike down and I fucking rip right over the top of it, from the rear wheel, up the side of his bike just missing his handlebar sticking up. I make it to the top. The group of riders that has made it is now parked on the road at the top, listening for more failed attempts. The kid was the last one to make it up. He turns off his bike, points at me and yells, "He used me for traction!" You could see my knobby marks all the way up the side of his bike. Everybody just laughed. It is still a catch phrase today.

"He used me for traction!"

[Captain 80s]

Here is the story of me wrecking my first street bike. 1984 VF500F. This was 1987.

I'll try and set the scene as best I can.

Just a couple miles from my house, very near the High School, is (was) a weird intersection where 3 roads come together. One west from the High School, one north going by the Fire Station (pretty much right on this "intersection"). The fire station has a phone booth on the corner. More on that later. I'm traveling South and the main road I'm on turns SW and continues with no stop sign. The other roads have stop signs and there is this triangular "island" in the middle of where all of the roads converge. The island just had its ditches all cleaned out with a backhoe and they are now perfect half pipes.

Following my friend (on his 84 500) doing 50 to 55 (in a 35). Just as we approach this bend (that we always sped thru) a truck passes on my left going the other way, just before my front end washes out sending me sliding on my palm/knee/hip. I just go by his rear bumper. As I watch my bike sliding away from me, I'm thinking, "Shit. Gonna have some work to do after this" right before we both hit the half pipe. Smash cut to dirt and dust and the next thing I know, I'm rotating in the air watching my bike flip and smash down on the handlebars and fuel tank, pretty much upside down.

The very next thing I find my self running down the road by the fire station and phone booth... AS FAST AS I CAN. Like the kind of running where you are going down hill and are on the verge of falling on your face, swinging your arms for balance. I fucking landed on my feet running. Luckily I was in "my" lane, as a car was approaching from the opposite direction. We stopped next to each other. Judging from the looks on this family of four's faces, they watched me fly out from behind the "island" and land, running, with my bike smashing off to the left, now dumping fuel on the road in a heap. They all looked at me like I was a ghost. I'm standing right next to the driver's door, hands on my knees, trying to breathe. The phone booth is on the other side of the car, a little closer to the intersection, in the fire station parking lot.

The dad slowly rolls down his window and asks, "Are you OK?"

I slowly turn in my Freddie Spencer Arai, "yeah"

"Are you sure, you might be in shock"

"I'm not in shock. I'm pissed!"

I walk back to my bike, right it with the help of my friend who has turned around and start pushing it to a better spot. It's fucked, but barely rolls. Just then a truck pulls up. "You wanna load that thing before the cops get here?"

"Yes please"

It was the truck that I nearly plowed into the front of. The three of us lifted it into the bed and he drove me home. Unloading it when my Mom came out. "You OK?"

"Yeah. I'm pissed." I then started crying. My beautiful bike. We both thanked the dude in the truck. It was the worst Summer ever, watching my friends ride their bikes around me while I drove. I wasn't hurt at all. Helmet was dusty. Had a strawberry thru my jeans, but they weren't torn. I was fucking wearing Sperry Top Sider boat shoes with no socks. (Yes, an idiot. That NEVER happened again). One rivet was ground half off right next to my ankle bone that didn't have a scratch.

So YEARS later I'm at a friend's party telling this story, which to be honest sounds like bullshit. I finish telling it and the small crowd around are just kinda standing there, with that look on their face. "Yeah.... right"

Just then a voice from the other side of the pool table room says, "It happened exactly like he just said." Everybody's head spun around and we were all, 'WHAT THE FUCK!!!???'

"I was standing in the phone booth at the fire station and watched the whole thing."

He went to my high school, Freddie Guzman. I didn't even recognize him or know that he was there. That was fucking weird.

[6]

In about 1990, my teenage son and I rode a 70 mile enduro in the Tillamook State Forest in Oregon. It was a 35 mile loop out with a gas stop. Dirt bikes in those days did not have large tanks. The idea was you could put your marked gas can on a trailer at the start, and then the trailer would be waiting at the midway checkpoint, way up near South Saddle Mountain, about twenty miles away from the truck by road. It was steep terrain, tight trails, and a hot day, so I was proud we made it to the gas stop.

As we were gassing up and drinking water, two riding buddies pulled up. One was on a Honda XR500, and one was on a blue tank Yamaha IT400 with its side stand removed. They were very tired, and dropped their helmets on the ground and leaned the two bikes standing against each other. The XR guy filled his tank, left the gas cap off and walked away.

I watched as, almost in slow motion, the two bikes began to fall over. It all came together as if choreographed. The IT fell over. The XR fell on it, and dumped a gallon of gasoline into the guy's open face helmet. If you were a videographer, it would require 100 takes to do it that perfectly.

Moral of the story: Tired motorcyclists sometimes do stupid things.

OH what a HIT!!!!>>

I always ride with a helmet... That day, ive hot my hair flowing in the wind.

[6]

Captain 80s Thats funny dude! i can envision the hil climb, and listen, sometimes when you are in the zone, thinking doesnt happen, flow state kicks in and you just get tinto closed loop mode and your brain is on autopilot taking in the inputs and just sending output straight through. Some times on those days the path of least resistance is over another bike, and your sub conscious knows you can handle it.

[rpcraft]

6, not to impart your favor but my favorite by far is the event's that got you in all the trouble on that last super fast bike you had. Listening to the tail I just shook my head in disbelief. Was definitely a wild tale.

[6]

6, not to impart your favor but my favorite by far is the event's that got you in all the trouble on that last super fast bike you had. Listening to the tail I just shook my head in disbelief. Was definitely a wild tale.

Ya..That was a fun day. But apparently I cant own really fast sport bikes because cops don't have a good enough senses of humor....

[rpcraft]

Ya..That was a fun day. But apparently I cant own really fast sport bikes because cops don't have a good enough senses of humor....

Party poopers!!