Alright, now I have seen it all...

[K3 Chris Onwiler]

I'll be perfectly honest here.  I sold my streetbike because I couldn't find anyone to ride with.  Everyone on the South Side knew I was a racer, so my every ride was their every chance to prove that they were faster than me, and hence could be magnificent racers if they only chose to spend the money it takes to go to the track.
Well, we all know that's, um... Bravo Sierra. (I LIKE that!)  On the street, the guy with the least brains is the fastest.  Dodging cars does not teach you how to be a racer.  But I couldn't get people to stop trying to race me.  The Dan Ryan Expressway is not a racetrack, and aside from traffic avoidance, it poses no riding challenge.  I would not play there, but I did take a few of the more mouthy and agressive types out to my secret backroads.  I humbled a few, then got two guys hurt.  One stuffed past me, hairball as #@%$ on the brakes in a tight turn that he could see through, then launched himself into the landscape in the next blind turn.  Stupid, but very ballsey, since I knew the road and he didn't.  I stopped, looked around, and realized that his buddy hadn't even made it this far.
  Hairball was awake but concussed, so I headed back to find his friend.  It took awhile.  After several passes up and down the road, I noticed a rear wheel skid mark.  Then I noticed a gap in the foliage that aligned with the skid.  Sure enough, there was the other guy.  He was pinned under the bike, and had broken an arm and a leg when he hit a tree.  Now I had to ride to the nearest place I could call for an ambulance, meet them, and lead them to these two clowns.  Of course TWO ambulances, the police and fire dept. all showed up.  The cops looked at me in my one-piece suit with beveled silders and started insinuating that I ran these turkeys off the road.  Oh yeah.  Like I'm some kind of predatory sport rider on the prowl, just swooping around looking for squids to kill.  I got pretty pissed and told the cop to @#$% off.  He REALLY wanted to find a reason to arrest me at this point, but there was nothing for him nail me on.
Out of guilt, I went back later and retrieved these guy's bikes with my trailer, and hauled them back to the shop they frequented.  After that, my streetbike just sat.  All the fun was gone.  A year later I sold it.  I wasn't then and I'm still not the fastest racer, but I was way too fast to be mixing with street people.  Besides, a street ride is either an excercise in boredom as you obey the laws, or a contest of survival and stupidity as you crank up to speeds and lean angles that have no place on public roads.  I'll just save my riding for the track.

[lil_thorny]

I have a polished bike with race fairings and simple lighting to ride on the street, although it does have a kick stand... I don't wear my leathers though, no helmet either some times  ;D

if anyone ever says "nice head" or laugh at my sponsor stickers to me on the street, I will race ya and beat ya  ;D :P

I see them "racer" boys all the time on the street. I blend in... but dont try to race me

Oh Dafan, what will we do with you ;)

[lil_thorny]

I'll be perfectly honest here.  I sold my streetbike because I couldn't find anyone to ride with.  Everyone on the South Side knew I was a racer, so my every ride was their every chance to prove that they were faster than me, and hence could be magnificent racers if they only chose to spend the money it takes to go to the track.
Well, we all know that's, um... Bravo Sierra. (I LIKE that!)  On the street, the guy with the least brains is the fastest.  Dodging cars does not teach you how to be a racer.  But I couldn't get people to stop trying to race me.  The Dan Ryan Expressway is not a racetrack, and aside from traffic avoidance, it poses no riding challenge.  I would not play there, but I did take a few of the more mouthy and agressive types out to my secret backroads.  I humbled a few, then got two guys hurt.  One stuffed past me, hairball as #@%$ on the brakes in a tight turn that he could see through, then launched himself into the landscape in the next blind turn.  Stupid, but very ballsey, since I knew the road and he didn't.  I stopped, looked around, and realized that his buddy hadn't even made it this far.
  Hairball was awake but concussed, so I headed back to find his friend.  It took awhile.  After several passes up and down the road, I noticed a rear wheel skid mark.  Then I noticed a gap in the foliage that aligned with the skid.  Sure enough, there was the other guy.  He was pinned under the bike, and had broken an arm and a leg when he hit a tree.  Now I had to ride to the nearest place I could call for an ambulance, meet them, and lead them to these two clowns.  Of course TWO ambulances, the police and fire dept. all showed up.  The cops looked at me in my one-piece suit with beveled silders and started insinuating that I ran these turkeys off the road.  Oh yeah.  Like I'm some kind of predatory sport rider on the prowl, just swooping around looking for squids to kill.  I got pretty pissed and told the cop to @#$% off.  He REALLY wanted to find a reason to arrest me at this point, but there was nothing for him nail me on.
Out of guilt, I went back later and retrieved these guy's bikes with my trailer, and hauled them back to the shop they frequented.  After that, my streetbike just sat.  All the fun was gone.  A year later I sold it.  I wasn't then and I'm still not the fastest racer, but I was way too fast to be mixing with street people.  Besides, a street ride is either an excercise in boredom as you obey the laws, or a contest of survival and stupidity as you crank up to speeds and lean angles that have no place on public roads.  I'll just save my riding for the track.

Pure poetry...I am so turned-on right now!

[roadracer67]

  I used to do a little drag racing at a real drag strip north of Phx w/ my F2. There was a guy on a Gixxer that would come out, lower his rear tire pressure to 6-10 pounds so that he could "hook-up" off the line. Everyone of the 4 wheeled people thought he was the coolest leaving the line all crossed up and such. I would watch meerily for the entertainment of watching someone's bike wobble all the way through the 1/4 mile. (He couldn't figure out why his bike did that and I never did tell him...Couldn't risk breaking everyones entertainment) ;D

[K3 Chris Onwiler]

Pure poetry...I am so turned-on right now!

I think you're sexy too!  Are you massaging your bruised cervex as you think about me? ;D

Man, maybe I'd better just shut up.  Benji's gonna be back, and I'll have to share the track with him again! :o :o :o :o

[tigerblade]

I think you're sexy too!  Are you massaging your bruised cervex as you think about me? ;D

Now where was that thread about Kegel exercises...   ;D

[quicktoy]

BEST THREAD EVER


I want more stories

[lil_thorny]

I think you're sexy too!  Are you massaging your bruised cervex as you think about me? ;D

Man, maybe I'd better just shut up.  Benji's gonna be back, and I'll have to share the track with him again! :o :o :o :o

I am actually getting some physical therapy done to my cervix this weekend...something about  a guy named Dumbledorf and a magic wand...we'll see how that goes ;)

[K3 Chris Onwiler]

I am actually getting some physical therapy done to my cervix this weekend...something about  a guy named Dumbledorf and a magic wand...we'll see how that goes ;)

Cue 70's porn music...

[davegsxrold929r]

i too wanna hear more about the BLING BLING bikes......  bwwahhhhhh

[tigerblade]

Not a bling bling story, but a few years ago some guy on a ZX7 pulls up to us in a gas station and asks my friend, who has a Superhawk, "That's a two stroke right?"  Think he meant twin.  Or maybe he didn't...

[Lowe119]

This is why my road bike is now my race bike. I found many people to ride with and loved going out on our curvey country roads. After seeing many different buddies fly off the road in my rearview mirror, I just got sick of it. It wasn't fun anymore, because I had to slow down so much for turns, to make sure the people behind me were going slow enough. I even told them not to compete - just ride in their limits, but that didn't help.
So I came to BFR, got my a$$ kicked, and loved it because there was no more guilt when others crashed.
Or on the other side, there was a group I could ride with on Friday and Saturday nights that would drive up and down the strip - maybe pop a wheelie now and then. That got pretty boring really quickly - especially when girls that were 15 years younger than me were yelling at me for a ride. Maybe I should've taken my helmet off so they could see the old codger they were yelling at  :D