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Young And Dumb

4K views 21 replies 7 participants last post by  Doktor 
#1 ·
This should be a short story as the whole "incident" didn't take,oh maybe 15 or 20 minutes overall. I was 16 or 17 years old and had a mid 60's model Bridgestone 175. An oil injected, street legal, two stroke screamer! My cousin had a newer Honda CB 350 and it drove him nuts because my "little 175" was faster.
One day I'm heading home from Rogers, Arkansas. Home was near Gateway back then. That big, nice 4 lane highway was just a 2 lane highway back then. I'm just cruising along when some guy in a '62 or '63 black Chevrolet Impala convertible passes me. No big deal except as he's passing me, he flips me the bird! His girlfriend (I assume) was snuggled up right against him.
When I tried to pass him back, he would just drift over in to the left lane. So I just followed. A couple miles up the road, he slowed down to pull in to a gas station, so as I passed him, I returned his bird. I heard his engine roar, the dirt, gravel and dust billowed up behind his car and he was coming after me.
Even back then, I knew any fender banging between a car and a motorcycle meant I lose. Now back in those days, there was a lot less traffic than there is now. I cranked the throttle open and that black Chevrolet started shrinking in my mirrors. When I got to Garfield, he wasn't even in sight. I made a quick right turn on to Lost Bridge Village Road.
I went up the hill, across the railroad tracks, turned left, made a U-turn and waited for him to go by. In just a few seconds, he went flying past. Never even glanced up the hill to see me sitting there! Then I got to thinking, darn! now he's in front of me. So I sat there a few more minutes before continuing on my way home.
I got back on the highway and headed east hoping that would be the last I saw of him, but it wasn't over. Just east of town back then, on the south side of the highway was a big dirt parking lot the semi trucks would stop there sometimes. There was no trucks but that black Chevy convertible was parked there. The driver had got out and was walking around. Ut-oh!
My first thought was "He's ran out of gas". I saw him pick up a rock and start towards the highway. Cars were coming from the other direction. I didn't have a windshield, a fairing or anything to get behind and I was too close to stop. So I cranked open the throttle again, as I went by he threw the rock and I heard it hit.
He was bigger than me but this was too much! I stopped as quick as I could and I intended to open a can of whoop ass on him! First I had to see what damage there was on my bike. On a frame member, right behind my right leg was a white powder looking spot. I wiped it away and, no damage!
I called him an unprintable name and rode away laughing at his predicament! He should have got gas!
 
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#2 ·
Fingers and whoop-ass were usually as far as things went back then. Now I allow people to be idiots, and just let it ride. I don't even honk at anyone unless it is due to a danger warning. Now a good percentage of nutz will shoot you for honking or flipping them off. Even though I'm almost always armed, IMO, it isn't worth the risk of an altercation. Admittedly, I've done some really stupid and dangerous "revenge" when younger.
 
#3 ·
Yep. Nowadays I wouldn't react the same way. I hope almost 50 years later I'm a little bit smarter than I was back then. It was funny how I went from being so afraid of getting hit by a rock, to mad as heck, to hahaha, you missed me, all in less than a minute!
But I wish I had that bike, and that car, today! ?
 
#4 ·
At another point in my younger, dumber days I had a Honda Trail 90. Living out in the country on too many miles of dirt road, it was the perfect bike for me at that time. If I remember right, it had 4 gears for on road, flip a lever and you got 4 gears for off road. Big chrome rack on the back, step through frame and a gas tank under the seat that didn't hold much fuel but it would go a long ways on little fuel.
I'd strap my tackle box and fishing pole to the rack and head to the lake. Trouble was, how could I fish with a motorcycle right there? So the fish had 10 minutes to bite or I was going riding. I don't ever remember catching a fish but the lake was a popular destination.

One day I rode to Lost Bridge Village and decided I would ride the back way in and ride by the airport. The road (at that time) was just a dirt road going up the hill but where I turned off, that was all paved and went downhill. So I'm going uphill on the dirt road just as fast as it would go, which might have been 50 MPH, maybe.
I wasn't concerned, I knew the road. When the road turned right, I just veered a bit to the left, slowed down on that smooth asphalt road going downhill, made my 90 degree left turn and rode down to the airport. No problem! I knew the road.
I got to the crest of the hill, veered left and stomped my brake pedal! They had oiled the road and covered it with a thick layer of white chat! I slid left, then right, then left again, I was flopping back and forth but I wasn't slowing down! Now to keep cars from running off the road, the corner had these nice big rocks around the shoulder of the road.
I got control just long enough to shoot right between two of those rocks! Right between the two big rocks, over a bluff, and into the woods. The bluff was only a couple feet high so that was no problem for an off road bike. The problem was speed.
Now 30, 35 or even 40 MPH is not really much problem on most roads, even dirt roads, through the woods full of oak trees, a few cedars and briars, it's a problem. Every leaf, limb, stick and briar that hit my arms, slid up my arms and ripped across my throat. It hurt! And it left a mark. I don't even know if I was using my brakes now, but it didn't really matter. I hit a rock. And laid it over. I was glad that ride was over!
I got it shut off and crawled back up the hill to the road. Now the next part is embarrassing. Who comes driving up? Mom and dad. That's not the embarrassing part. They get me cleaned up as best they could, and not having anything else, a "ladies" pad is tied around my neck with a handkerchief. I found that a bit embarrassing, but I wasn't in a condition to argue.
Mom drove me home in the car and dad got that tough little bike out of the woods and rode it home. Other than a few minor scratches, the bike was fine. A little Neosporin and gauze took care of my neck. I guess it looked worse than it actually was.
Only thing I did right that day was wear a helmet.
 
#9 ·
You say you were going uphill at maybe 50 mph??
That bike of yours must have been supercharged!!
My '77 Trail 90 will just about make 50 on a level paved road. Uphill on any road, and I'm down to 35 or less. Most of the time, 50 is just a dream.

 
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#12 ·
This happened more than a few days ago. I said I was going as fast as it would go, then I took a guess as to how fast that might have been.
Whatever speed I was going, it was too fast when I hit that chat. Yours looks good! I was trying to remember what year model mine was, I keep thinking it was a late 60's early 70's model, but if they didn't make them then, sorry, I'm still using the same memory bank. ?
 
#14 ·
Ha, I still occasionally get myself into weird situations.

My Goldwing has two very LOUD horns on it. A careless dude in a SUV pulled out in front of me in an intersection, forcing me to take an emergency path through the oncoming left turn lane to prevent myself from hitting him. I gave him a blow of the horns and a "really??" expression with my hands as I passed him and got back in the lane.

Well, I guess he didn't take too kindly to it because he pulled up to me at the next light (the single lane opened up to two) to give me a good scolding about how I was going too fast (I was going the speed limit), my horn is obnoxious (I wouldn't have fired it if you looked before you turned), and how if I keep it up, I'm going to end up dead and it may not be from a crash. I didn't reply and I didn't even look in his direction. Clearly, that had pissed him off even more. When the light turned green he started pacing me while still yelling at me and now also trying to intimidate me by swerving into my lane. So fine, I decided to make his day tangibly worse. I knew of a speed trap a couple miles up the road hidden at the bottom of a blind-ish hill. I just opened up the Goldwing and as expected he followed me all the way up to 80 (35 over, a reckless driving charge). Just before the top of the hill I applied brakes and just as expected, he flew past me with a middle finger in the air, still doing 80. I was at the speed limit at the crest of the hill and watched as he blew by the hidden police officer going like a bat outta heck. This was the town that impounded my Buell so I know these officers don't play. The cop pulled out and pulled him over. I gave the guy a thumbs up as I rolled past. :)

Sadly that wasn't the first time I used that speed trap like that. Long before I was even a rider I would sometimes have problems with people when driving my car. I'm not sure what it is, but my car (a smart fortwo) seems to bring out the worst in some people. The poor thing's been shot, paintballed, keyed, spat on, and egged...and those are just the aggressions when the car is parked! In this case, this guy tried to throw a cup of coffee through my open window, failed, and then he tried to race me. I fed him straight into the speed trap, let the police pull him over, then I showed the officer the coffee on the side of my car that he threw at me. I'm sure that guy had a fun day.
 
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#15 ·
Ha, I still occasionally get myself into weird situations.

My Goldwing has two very LOUD horns on it. A careless dude in a SUV pulled out in front of me in an intersection, forcing me to take an emergency path through the oncoming left turn lane to prevent myself from hitting him. I gave him a blow of the horns and a "really??" expression with my hands as I passed him and got back in the lane.

Well, I guess he didn't take too kindly to it because he pulled up to me at the next light (the single lane opened up to two) to give me a good scolding about how I was going too fast (I was going the speed limit), my horn is obnoxious (I wouldn't have fired it if you looked before you turned), and how if I keep it up, I'm going to end up dead and it may not be from a crash. I didn't reply and I didn't even look in his direction. Clearly, that had pissed him off even more. When the light turned green he started pacing me while still yelling at me and now also trying to intimidate me by swerving into my lane. So fine, I decided to make his day tangibly worse. I knew of a speed trap a couple miles up the road hidden at the bottom of a blind-ish hill. I just opened up the Goldwing and as expected he followed me all the way up to 80 (35 over, a reckless driving charge). Just before the top of the hill I applied brakes and just as expected, he flew past me with a middle finger in the air, still doing 80. I was at the speed limit at the crest of the hill and watched as he blew by the hidden police officer going like a bat outta heck. This was the town that impounded my Buell so I know these officers don't play. The cop pulled out and pulled him over. I gave the guy a thumbs up as I rolled past. :)

Sadly that wasn't the first time I used that speed trap like that. Long before I was even a rider I would sometimes have problems with people when driving my car. I'm not sure what it is, but my car (a smart fortwo) seems to bring out the worst in some people. The poor thing's been shot, paintballed, keyed, spat on, and egged...and those are just the aggressions when the car is parked! In this case, this guy tried to throw a cup of coffee through my open window, failed, and then he tried to race me. I fed him straight into the speed trap, let the police pull him over, then I showed the officer the coffee on the side of my car that he threw at me. I'm sure that guy had a fun day.
Talk about having my mind in the gutter. Skim reading and somewhere my mind filled in, job. I was forced to have to go back and re-read. Surely I'm not the only one but maybe I am. Guess I better stop skim reading.:devil::devil::devil:
 
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#18 ·
HaHaHa!!!
Loved that story! I got this mental image of the cop walking up to ask the guy for his license, registration and insurance, but before the cop says anything, the now completely P.O.ed driver says, What the hell do you want? Then the cop saying something like I'll write it all down for you!
 
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