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Nocturnal Ancestor
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I know there are plenty of funny stories and happening here, hope it's not redundantly repetitive. I don't usually use words like that
:nerd

But after hearing a few friends talk about funny things happening while riding, I thought I'd give it a go on here?

I have a few, probably not really that funny but I'll start with one from early on, round when I was fifteen.

I've had a few minibikes and small cc dirtbikes as a kid. But when I was fifteen some college kid sold me a penton 250cc dirtbike for nearly nothing (needed some small stuff) and I thought it was the baddest arse thing on the planet.

My little brother was almost afraid of it, he knew from the size and sound it was more than my other bikes, even though he was five years old and half crazy himself. LOL

One day out in the country where we would ride , he said he wanted to go for a ride on it, he seemed somewhat nervous.

He had ridden with me plenty of time, he would sit in front of me and grip the crossbar on the motocross handlebars.

I start out nice and slow in first gear, he asks me if I'm in the fastest gear? I said no, He screams GO FASTER! So I go to 2nd gear and cruising right along, He asks again are we in the fastest gear? I said nope He screams GO FASTER! so I go to 3rd and get going right along and again he asks,
Are we in the fastest gear? I say no, He screams GO FASTER! 4th gear same thing

This goes on for ever gear, I might be wrong but I think it was a six speeds? seems like it was? because I remember thinking at the time all others I have had were only five speeds? who knows

So I'm in the highest gear moving along a straight stretch of a dirt road and he asks "are we in the fastest gear? and I say "yes"

He screams ...SLOW DOWN!

Not sure why but that has always seemed funny

The time I gave a hitchhiking gal a ride will come later:ride not whatcha think.
 

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It was probably my first Harley rally, in the mountains around Taos NM. One of the days we were there, probably a dozen of us from Cannon AFB, we were kind of winding down after the day's festivities at our cabins.

Along came this other group of bikers came to introduce themselves etc, and one of the bigger guys in their group looks at me and says "Your name is 'Joker', now tell me a joke." and proceeds to sit down in a wooden chair. I tell my best joke at the time, and he just about breaks that chair from laughing so hard! :D
 

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I remember attempting to ride my brother-in-law’s Yamaha dirt bike about 30 years ago. Put it in 1st and slowly released the clutch as I applied the throttle. The front wheel popped up and the thing shot out from under me. I was left standing there as the bike shot out into the field.
 

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My maiden voyage. 10 years old. Pull start Tecumseh 3.5hp, tube frame, centrifugal clutch, friction brake, steel tube frame, no suspension, 10" tires and painted dark blue. I was blown away by it all. I can still smell the gas and exhaust fumes.

My dad taught me the choke and how to start it, stop it and turn.

I had on my helmet, good thing.

I could ride a bike, but that ferocious motor had me scared for my life in the best way possible.

It seems like it was last week.

I tool off down the blacktop drive in from the on the mechanic shop / training center my dad ran.

I made an excellent 180 and started my return.

A lesson not all of us were taught in the beginning, you go where your eyes focus.

I focused on the fast approaching dumpster. It was for all intents and purposes, a brick wall.

Dazed, I got up and dad grabbed the bike.

With a few minutes on a torch and a couple of his guys, the forks were straight one again.

I got back on and for the life of me cannot remember a single detail of the second ride, but it was the beginning of my life long love affair with 2 wheels. Best birthday ever.
 

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Wayward Son
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More strange then funny.

Was living in a trailer park at the time.
A Brother and I rolled in from a usual Friday, or was Saturday(?), night of questionable behavior.
Anyways......
We had a couple fender bunnies in tow.
I shut my Shovel down. Young lady dismounted.
I threw down the kickstand. Stood up.
As always I placed my left foot behind the stand and pulled back on the bars to make sure it was in place.
Dismounted to the left.
The 4 of us walked the roughly 10 feet to the steps at the front door.
At that point my bike decided it was tired and wanted to lie down.
Promptly went over on it`s right side.

After getting over the few seconds of initial shock.
Picked it up and inspected it. Not a single bit of damage.
Breathed a sigh of relief.
Went on back into the trailer to continue the originally planned night of debauchery. :know
(Yes. Alcohol was involved)

More stories to follow as this old memory recalls them.
Though the best ones are likely lost forever. :sad
(Or the statute of limitation has not run out.)
 

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I bought a used 2002 Moto Guzzi Stone in 2004.
I rode it to work the day after I bought it.
I was at work about an hour when one of my Harley riding friends came up to me and told me I had a pretty bad leak under my Guzzi.
I went out and on the ground under it was about a half a box worth of spaghetti.
Harley guys and their humor...geez. LOL
 

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Wayward Son
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I bought a used 2002 Moto Guzzi Stone in 2004.
I rode it to work the day after I bought it.
I was at work about an hour when one of my Harley riding friends came up to me and told me I had a pretty bad leak under my Guzzi.
I went out and on the ground under it was about a half a box worth of spaghetti.
Harley guys and their humor...geez. LOL
Used to do that with rice when a import rider would show up at a pool hall I frequented.
Then we would have the bartender make an announcement over the PA.

Some of them got a chuckle out of it. They got a round of drinks bought for them.
Some others? Not so much. :dunno
 

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I go with a friend to Hilton Head by bike. Another buddy flies down and I said I would pick him up on the bike. Just had a small bag and backpack. I had this cheap orange helmet with no face shield. My other friend followed on his bike. Along the way some guy on a bike comes up near us and then just grabs throttle. I do the same. My buddy on the back starts hitting me to slow down. He said his eyelids turned inside out!!! He took a cab on the way back. On the trip down the Florida we hit a snow storm but kept going. Rode with feet hovering just above the tarmac. Almost no soles left when we stopped. Had cheap rain suits on. Rode all through the night and it did finally stop. Daylight comes up and the cheap rain-suits had frozen cracked and broken. It looked like short sleeved waiters vests and shorts. We were pointing at each other and laughing!
 

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Was on a long trip to upstate NY near Dannemora prison. I go to visit a buddy whose parents have a camp there. On the way up I'm in a bad thunder and lightening storm. It's flat in western upstate NY. All of a sudden something hits my shoulder but I'm ok. The rain stops it gets very humid and I continue until I decide I should stop for gas. Guy at the station says you have something on your back. A bird had exploded on my shoulder and contents had slid down my back and dried up. I had to scrape it off with a knife.
Or I was riding from VA to NY. Was near the onion fields in PA. I see in the distance that it's raining. I pull into a very narrow breakdown lane and start to pull the rainsuit out. It starts to drizzle and then just a downpour. No need for rain gear now. I put the raingear in the tank bag and the rain turns to hail and then it goes horizontal and my motorcycle was thrown at me. I almost ended under it. I caught it before it hit the ground hard and the sliders kept damage to a minimum. I finally picked it up and I had to lean against it to keep it from blowing over. It's a 600lb bike and I still had to lean against it. I decide I need to get out of here so the next set of double wheels from a tractor trailer and I would ride in the breakdown lane. I watched for a tractor trailer that was full because the empty ones were really getting battered by the wind. Didnt want to be under that. All traffic was at a crawl because you could hardly see it all. I pick my spot and go. As soon as we hit the mountains the wind stopped as did the rain. Traffic starts moving and a few acceleration runs to 90+ and I'm just about dry except the spot where the tank bag ended, my crotch. I pull into this gas station to change pants but couldn't find the owner. The place was going through renovation. He was a small Asian guy and he just pops up between the aisles. I say ayyYYYy and I said look what you did I just pissed my pants. You should have seen the look on his face. I said I just kidding I was in a rain storm and the tank bag blocked to wind so it's the only spot that didn't dry. He thought it was hysterical.
 

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I was typing slowly, I see it didn't translate.
I just have had so many things happen to me over the years that large groups of people combined don't have happen to them.
 

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May 1973. First long trip on a bike. In Virginia, just back from Vietnam. No real road experience. Bought a Honda 350. Thought wife and I could make a trip to Idaho. What they heck, Robert Persig wrote about a bike about that size. We had three weeks of leave to burn, so ...

First two days, it rained. Finally cleared up about mid-Ohio. Camped in Indiana at a state park. Next morning, took off early with thoughts of breakfast in Danville, Ill. Honda had other thoughts. Engine had catastrophic failure right on the freeway. We weren't on the side of the road more than a few minutes when a Castrol Oil van pulled up. Turns out he was the son of the local Honda Dealer owner, and they were just a couple miles away. Picked up the bike and took it in. Mechanic named Roach went through it and we got the bad news. Total loss. But, it was covered under warranty and the dealer would take it in trade on another bike. So, we did a deal for a 500 Four.

That night, son of dealer and I went to the warehouse and I picked the crate that had the bike I wanted, and we put her together. Family put us up for the night, fed us, and the next morning, Roach got the 500 all ready. We left before noon on a brand new bike, with a lot more capacity.

Bike rode well. I won't talk about Nebraska. But, Wyoming, midway between Rawlins and Rocks Springs, the tube in the rear tire decided it didn't like tire stem any more. Went flat at 80 mph. Got the bike stopped safely and we sat on the side of the road for four hours until a guy in a pickup came by and could haul us into Rock Springs. We got into the local dealer before closing and got the tire fixed. I always carried a spare tube from then on.

Great riding and times continued. Then heading south on US 93 in Nevada, I had to stop for a break. Wife's helmet kept banging on my back. Yep, she was falling asleep. We pull over and get off for a bit, walk around. I got the camera (old Yashika dual-lens reflex) out and took a couple of pictures. We get back on the bike and take off. I see something bouncing in the road in the mirror. Yep, I'd hung the camera on a turn signal for a moment and forgot it. It now is a million little pieces all over US 93.

All this time, I had no tags on the bike. Had temporary paperwork tucked in the document sleeve in the seat, but no plate on the back. Finally, in Mesa, AZ, a cop decided to check us out. Musta been a rookie, 'cause as soon as I got off the bike, he went for his gun and demanded I drop my gun. I was a bit stunned. I didn't carry a gun. Then I realized he thought my Buck knife sheath was a gun holster. I eased him down, and took the knife off my belt and laid it down. After that, we were all okay.

Spring in Arizona. From Mesa to Show Low, to catch I-40. Wore my rain gear because the locusts were so thick. By the time I got to Show Low, I just tossed the rain gear it was so disgusting.

The rest of the trip was pretty tame. Got back to Norfolk after about three weeks on the bike and a lifetime memory.
 

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My turn .
A brother and I worked at the same plant in Mi.
One day at lunch he says let go get some lunch at the Chinese place about a mile down the road.
I agree and we saddle up and headed over to it.
I didn’t want anything but got a cold soda while he was placing his order.
What you want say the Chinese guy.
My brother says chicken something.
Then he tells the old manNo cat all chicken.
I about spit my pop all over the table.
His order is ready an he walks up to get it. As he’s paying for it a CAT walks from under the curtain that’s where the kitchen is.
He yells at the old man an says I said no cat !!

Old man says No No No.
That’s someone else order.
I thought a was going to puss my jeans .


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
 

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Went riding with two other wing nuts while on active duty at Vandenberg AFB. Went up thru San Marcos Pass near Cachuma Lake. Took a side road off main. Lowest section water always ran a crossed it after rainy season. We sized up depth watching vehicles cross about 6-8"s. Crazy Marty putts across on his 750 Honda. Kevin aka Crash starts across on a his rambling Death Trap. Honda 350 Twin, extended forks, highway pegs and solid struts on the rear. Tires of course are may pops. Watch him make it across. Gets to other side has front wheel on the pavement decides to stop talk with some young things in car. Okay here I go on 500 Triumph. Doing well till Amals decide the hot weather not to there liking. They fart and engine goes dead. Feet down in middle of crossing. Water half way up my boots. So should I try kicking it over getter started or push? Mean while girls drive by. Look at other side. Crash is flat on his back with one leg at a 90 degree angle. Just had surgery on it some months before. Fast forward. We get his bike back the way we came. Two of us get him back a cross. . No help any where. Get the Death Trap running. Prop forked up leg on high way peg. Crash can operate shifter with good leg. We gun it down road back to base housing missing or blowing thru all stop lights and signs. Housing was outside the gate good thing. He had no helmet on. He wobbles into his house. Wife very used to his escapades. " Well what did he do now?". Oh it gets better. After surgery to reattach damn near every ligament & leg muscles back together. Now wearing a hip to foot cast. Bored at home? Manages to get back on Death Trap and takes off. Gets run off the road by cager cutting him off. Crosses into medium. . Stops up right gets off bike. Standing next to it up when CHP shows up. Ranting at him why the hell are you out in medium get fork out of there. Then drives off. Wearing bib cover all's cop didn't see cast. Gets back home. We take Death Trap away from him to my garage. Then there was time he got T-Boned in his Vette ended up in passenger seat... but leave that for another time.
 

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Them Amals'll get you every time.
 

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My first "Motorcycle" . . . A neighbor of mine had an old Sears motorcycle that had been sitting behind his barn for years. He asked me if I wanted it and of course I said "Yes". I believe it was a late 1960's or early 1970's model and from the research I did, the motorcycle was made by Gilera, which is an Italian motorcycle company. In any case, the motorcycle was not running. I painted the tank, fenders, etc. and cleaned it all up. I found out that the motorcycle had no spark. I held the two wires from the ignition coil next to each other and kicked the engine over and had spark, leading me to believe that the coil was bad. I had recently replaced the ignition coil in my 1978 Dodge Aspen with a higher performance coil, so I took the old coil, duct taped it to the frame underneath the tank (it was larger than the OEM coil). I put everything else back together, added fuel to the tank, kicked it over and it started! Being an Italian bike, the shifter was on the right side and the rear brake on the left side (that took some getting used to) and it was a four-speed where you click down to move to the next higher gear (similar to a Honda Trail 70). I wasn't complaining . . . I finally had two wheels to ride (out in the woods, country, etc.) and it didn't cost me anything. Parts were impossible to find so when a front brake shoe broke, I was down to just rear brakes, then the clutch cable went, the tires were all dry-rotted, etc. It was a fun first bike and gave me something to work on as a 20-year-old kid. Soon after, I purchased a 1982 Yamaha Maxim 550 and never looked back.

Here is a picture of what that bike looked like . . . One cylinder! When the rear brake light bulb burned out, the ignition system stopped working. I replaced the bulb and was back in business. Go figure!

1970 Sears Motorcycle.jpg
 

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Cant fix it with duct tape just throw it away.
 

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I "Reupholstered" the seat with black duct tape too!
 
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