Sold my bike and riding is behind me

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Comments

  • exalted512
    exalted512 Posts: 10,735
    edited May 2010
    cnh wrote: »
    What are those? A shot of the new suit for Iron Man III? lol

    We have a group of guys up North where I live who meet at the local Burger King once a week in full gear on every major make of bike you can think of to talk shop and have coffee. ALL those guys make me look like a youngster and I'm on the other side of a half century. So do bikers 'ever' REALLY hang it up? I wonder!

    cnh

    funny you should mention that:
    http://www.udreplicas.com/all-products/the-dark-knight/
    :D:D:D:D
    -Cody
    Music is like candy, you have to get rid of the rappers to enjoy it
  • inspiredsports
    inspiredsports Posts: 5,501
    edited May 2010
    I always rode fairly carefully, with a helmet and with the headlight on.

    One nice warm, bright sunny spring day, I was cruising down a 40 mph country road where another road teed in 90 degrees from the left. The road I was on had the right of way and was elevated perhaps 5 feet above the fields on either side, with a barbed wire fence between the road and field.

    A car on that side road approached, stopped legally at his stop sign, looked at what I though was directly at me, and then pulled out.

    Years of prior dirt bike riding/racing allowed me to make a sharp move to the right, notice the barbed wire fence and pull the bars up. The top wire caught the skid plate below my engine and stopped the bike right there. I continued over the bars, somersaulted about 3/4 of a turn and landed flat on my back about 30 feet from the bike.

    I don't know if I was out, or how long I was out, but I remember staring straight up into into the bright blue sky with big puffy white clouds floating by. The birds were chirping and my body tingled, literally from head to toe. I thought I had died and gone to heaven . . . but, that field had just been plowed and disced. I did not have a scratch on my body and the tingling eventually subsided.

    I was able to walk away, untangle the bike, straighten the forks, get the motor running and ride the remaining 3 miles home. The bike was parked in a storage shed behind my dads home where it remains rotting and rusting to this day.

    That was May 1980.
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