Funny stories while on your bikes

In about '82 I was riding to the annual Bathurst easter races (sadly no longer held) - a distance of about 1700km. I was with 4 friends who liked to cover some miles.
We were going to overnight at a small town in southern inland Queensland called Miles - also used by trucks who used the same inland route.
We were having a healthy dinner (meat pie & sauce) at the main truck stop, when Gilly decided to squirt the sauce bottle onto Davo - who was sitting opposite him and had his back to the serving counter.
Well, Gilly put a bit too much effort into squeezing the sauce bottle - I remember seeing this stream of tomato sauce arc up over Davo's head, over the counter and all over the uniform of the pretty little thing who was serving customers!
Apparently that was a bit too much for the dozen or so truckers who started heading our way.
We only just made it to our bikes and high-tailed it out of town down to the next town, Moonie - thankfully with all of us intact - Just!

Our annual easter trips for usually filled with similar shenanigans.
Cheers
Rob

As I now have not one but 2 hearing aids, it is uncomfortable to wear both under my helmet at the same time, I leave one out and carry it around in a pocket, I pulled into a service station for petrol and as I walked into the shop to pay the 2 lady assistants looked at me as if I was a leper- and I wondered why. It turned out that I had left the unused aid switched on and I was walking around with a very loud whistle - which was the feedback from it. I told them I could whistle without moving my lips, it’s a family trait.

way back I was following a police car at the speed limit ,ready to overtake if they slowed when they suddenly jammed on the brakes to force me to stop ,I sailed by to avoid a crash and stopped. They accused me of having bad brakes! and insisted on push testing the bike ,I stood back an left them to it, They then wanted to run the motor to check the silencer. They failed to start it,(the key was in my pocket) , I started looking on the floor for the key they had knocked out! ,I walked off in disgust leaving them on their knees looking for the key and a few choice comments for them , came back in 10 mins ,they were gone.

texasSlick said:

Ashman, you and I must be the only hellions on this thread. If you and I were mates in our youth, we might not be here today.

Slick

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I have written-off two motorcycle crash-helmets during my life. I think that is funny, but perhaps it isn't ?

When I first got my licence after 13 months they took it off me for to many points but was able to go straight back on to a learners permit I rode with that for 9 years then got done for drink driving I was just on the limit of .05 after that I went for my licence and after 12 months I went past a radar set up and a old copper that hated my guts was on duty and the last time he pulled me over knew I only had a learners permit, as I went past I knew he would jump in the cop car and give chaseI turned up the road I had to go home but I did a quicl left turn and he didn't see me do the turn and he went straigh ahead he would have got around the bend and through where the fuc. he went then I cam out behind him I could see his face in his mirror and he wasn't happy when he seen me laughing at him, he stop to let me past and then pulled me over.
He asked for my licence and he had a big grin on his face which quickly disappeared when I pull my licence out , truck, bus, car and motorcycle licence and then I started to laugh out loudly he wasn't a happy chappy I have fouled him again, Demsey was a cop who has been trying to catch me and my mates for a few years from when we first started to ride bikes at 15 to well into our 20s he had a few times he won but most of the time he came out second best, I tell you in my next story when he gave me chase on foot and he ended up in a pool that was funny and he always remember that one.

Ashley

Demsey who was our local copper that we have been chased by for many of years on our dirt bikes this was when we were 15 years old till about our early 20s , I was about 19 at the time and I was riding my bicycle home at night full of piss and bad manners lol when came around the corner was Demsy and his off sider in their cop car as soon as Demsy seen me he gave chase I jumped off the push bike and jump a house fence and went through a few back yards with Demsy not far behind me I knew the area pretty good and I knew the next yard with the 6' fence there was a pool close to the fence I leaped over it but stayed right on the fence line Demsy came right over where I was standing and straight over the top of me and into the pool he landed, I was pissing myself then just back tracked my way out still laughting all the way and it was just coming on to winter so he would have been very cold and late at night, all I could hear was Demsy yelling out "I get you Pricey I will get you one day" .
I got back to my push bike and went straight home, he never forgot about that night and hounded me for a few weeks, but some how I think he enjoyed chasing us I think the local boys in blue like it as much as we did but we got away most times.
For about a week or two after everytime I went out on the Norton I didn't get far before I ran into him again till things cooled down, it was like he spent his whole shift waiting for me to leave home, of course I denied everything, "wasn't me mr Demsey".
Ashley

Two friends and myself were riding to West Palm Beach from Ft. Lauderdale one evening to spectate at some indoor shorttrack races. I was riding the Norton, Michael was on his new Z-1 and Buddy was aboard his 750 H2. Buddy had recently been warned by the local constabulary to "quiet that damned thing down or get a big ticket", so he had repacked the baffles on his 3 expansion chambers. With steel wool. As we were zipping up I-75, the steel wool caught fire and was showering sparks out the tips of the chambers. All three of us were laughing so hard we nearly fell off when an FHP Trooper tore out from behind a billboard and pulled us over. Sparks were still pooting from the H2 even after we stopped and the belly-grabbing laughter continued. The trooper got out and walked up scratching his head, saying "Whatta you got in that motorsickle, boy? I almost to spilled my coffee!" Of course, by that time we were practically rolling on the ground.

Danno a simlar story happened to my friend Scotty he rode a very hot 450 Ducati single cafe racer light as all shit and went pretty good but very loud with the megar phone muffler he got pulled up one night and was told to quiten it down as its way to loud and to present it to him down at the police station when fixed and not to ride it till then or he will throw the book at him.
Well next day he asked me to bring the trailer down so he could take the bike down the station to get checked, when I arrived at Scotts place here he was shoving chicken wire into his muffler, this will quite it down a bit, we loaded the bike on the trailer and headed off to the cop shop.
The Sargent came out and asked Scotty to start her up, he was impressed it was so quite but the Sargent went over and grabbed the throttle and reved the guts out of it then all of a sudden the chicken wire flew out of the muffler so fast and landed on the bonnet of the cop car behind the bike, the Sargent had a bit of a laugh and said you better fix that up properly but he said all good now piss off and fix but all good to ride, the sargent was still pissing himself as he walked back into the station, the old Sargent at the time was a good mate of my dad and was a ex police biker when they rode beefed up Triumphs in the days, he helped me out a few times over the years, you don't get cops like him no more.

Ashley

Talking about good cops in days of yore...
In about '80 I was out visiting my then girlfriend in a small country town, as I had done many times. This time, though, I had to present myself for yet another licence test at the local cop shop (I think it was my seventh provisional license that time).
Well, the old sergeant kindly didn't ask how I had got there without a valid license.
We stood outside the cop shop while he explained the route he wanted me to take. When he was finished I got on my bike, put my helmet on, looked back to see him still standing on the footpath.
"Aren't you going to follow me?" I asked.
"Don't you know the way?" was his reply.
I told him I was fine and took off around the designated route. When I returned he was still standing there.
"How'd you go?" he asked.
"Bloody excellent!" I replied.
"Good - let's go inside and do the paperwork then!" he'd said.

Nice bloke!

Rob

Three friends and I had just taken off from a fuel stop somewhere in Montana and decided to wick it up a bit. We passed a police cruiser going the other way about the time we had passed 130 mph, so, duh, the cruiser whipped around in the road, turned on the pretty lights and came after us. Two guys kept rolling and two of us pulled over, myself my friend who is a corrections officer. He probably had intentions of flashing his badge if the shit got too deep, but it never came to that.

The officer looked at my friend and said, "You were in the lead, you get the ticket" and requested license and registration, which he took back to the cruiser to write the ticket. I'm thinking, Bloody hell, I got pulled over doing 130+mph and I'm not even getting paper? unbelievable. The officer returns with the ticket, which he hands to my friend and says, "I'm gonna write you for 75 in a 65, but I think you were going a little faster than that. My mind was boggled and I almost blurted out, "F#&%ING AY, we were busting 130 when we passed you!" but I resisted the urge when the officer continued, "That'll be 20 dollars, no points, pay me."

A discussion ensued about how Montana at one time had no speed limits. Supposedly if you were pulled over, the officer would inspect your equipment and tell you to be careful and have a nice day in Big Sky Country. But the Feddle Gummit, according to our friendly policeman, in it's infinite wisdom, told the state that if they didn't hand out performance awards, the Feds would shut the tap of highway dollars, so he was just doing his part to get their share of highway money.

The best part was when we got back to base camp, we told the others the two guys who split would have to go talk to the judge that night or the other two of us were going to jail. We had 'em all wound up for about a half hour before we broke down laughing and told the tale as it happened.

On the way back after one of my many biking adventures my bike a t140 bonnie decided to blow it's spark plug out
It struck me on its way out and disappeard onto the side of the road I always carried spare plugs so not a problem I thought!!
But to my horror the spark plug hole had an insert fitted, the whole time I'd owned it I never knew!!
So now I had to find the missing plug on the grass verge ,so eventually I found it with the insert still fitted.
Unfortunately the thread was stripped but my mate had a pack of fags on him that had the foil in the pack so I wrapped that around the thread of the insert and put it back in ,all seemed fine until I reached 55 mph then the plug would blow out this happened a couple of times
Then we came to a layby I pulled in with my mate who was close behind (who had been following watching for flying spark plugs)
And I started searching the bins for some aluminium foil
Now these bins had like a letter box slot at the top and the bag hung below in a wire mesh frame
I had to take my jacket off and get my arm right inside feeling for some aluminium foil, whilst all the time drivers and whole families were looking/pointing at the poor starving biker trying to find some food in a bin
My mate was pissing himself laughing
And then in the third or fourth bin I struck gold a great big ball of foil with some crusts of bread in the middle
I re wrapped the insert with the heavier foil and managed to get all the way home
Whilst searching the bins I pulled out a T-shirt that I threw at my mate he looked at it and said it's better than what he had on so he kept it!!!!!

In my younger days and just after rebuilding and converting my 850 to the Wideline Featherbed I had set up a easy wiring harness but had no room to mount my coils in the normal place so I cut 2 holes in bottom of the tool tray under the seat where I had most of my electrics and I put the coil through the holes with the tops of the coils sitting in the tray, a few months after the bike was back on the road we were on a bike run with about 40 bikes and about 60 friends we where up in the Sunshine Coast Hinterland at one of the main National Parks.
When I went to leave the bike started up on one cylinder so started to look for the problem took the seat off to check all electrics all looked good both coils sitting in the right place and all connected, not having much luck finding the problem, then one of my mate's looked down on the side of the bike and said "hey Pricey look at this" yep one of the coil bodies was completely gone and only the top was still sitting in its place, stupid me didn't rubber mount them, young and silly, you learn by your mistakes.
Anyway instead of running the bike home on one cylinder my mate had his Hk Holden Broharm with the 307 Chev motor it had a very big rear boot so we laid the bike in the back of the boot with the front wheel hanging out the back, the good thing about that I was able to drink a few beers on the way home, it was a memorial run for one of our fallen mate.
I had a spare coil at home and my mate gave me some rubber coil mounts that Triumphs used in the days to mount their coils, never did have that problem again.
We all pissed our selfs when we found the problem of the missing coil bottom a nice clean cut through where the coil sat in the tray, it was only about 7 years ago that I changed from coils to the JH maggie so about 35 years with the coils mounted under the seat and with my mate's rubber mounts.

Ashley

After escaping from the ruffians that I peppered with driveway gravel (reply #20), I went WOT, and near max rpm in 2nd, passed three Dallas PD cruisers parked in a side lot. They gave me a spectacular light show, and doubting they would accept my plea that I was fleeing from bodily harm, decided my best option was to stay with WOT. After about a 1/2 mile, I killed the lights, turned off Harry Hines Blvd, then turned this way, that way, etc, until I found myself on a new graded road.

Driving up the road, I stopped at an overpass, realized I was over Harry Hines, and the new road I was on was the future I-635. I looked down, and saw 6 Big D police officers looking up at me! I said "I'd like to 'splain to you fellas, but I need to be somewhere else!", then made my escape.

Running from the cops is fun, but if you get caught ..... no fun sleeping on a steel rail rack!

Slick

I have been chased a few times at night on the Norton and learned a long time ago to have one brake with no brake light connected, the first time a few of us riding together at night was being closely followed by a cop on a bike watching what we were getting up to once we knew he was there we all turned our lights off to make our excape, the copper had call in back up by this time, we all split up but I was the only one that didn't get caught as my mates got caught because when they hit their brake the brake light gave them away but me not having my rear brake light connected the coppers didn't see me, but I stopped and hid on a hill over looking all the action with my mates being booked etc, since that night my mates have done the same thing and disconnected one brake light switch lol.

Ashley

I remember living with the philosophy of making sure that I had good stories to tell my grandkids.
I ended up with a bunch of stories that I can't tell anyone.
I know that statute of limitations thing will keep at least 2 high speed chase stories from being told.

On the return half of my transcontinental ride on my Atlas, I left San Francisco on Saturday morning, and fall semester graduate school classes were due to commence the following Monday, 3000 miles away. I knew I would be late, but endeavoring to minimize the classes I would miss, I resolved to ride thru the night across Kansas.

I was on old hwy US 50, dubbed the loneliest road in America. Somewhere deep in Kansas, nothing around but an occasional grain silo, no lights to be seen except the red aviation avoidance beacons atop said silos, no other traffic, and a moonless night to boot, the Prince of Darkness struck the Atlas ..... The sealed beam headlight suddenly went out. I frantically jiggled, turned off and on the Lucas main switch while plowing into the darkness at 60+ mph. The light came back on, and I travelled on.

A short time later, it happened again. More jiggling and the light came on. The Prince was not to be denied, however, for when the light went out for the third time, nothing I did could restore the light.

As I said, this was the loneliest road in America. There was nothing to do except move the Atlas safely off the road, and find a place to throw down my sleeping bag. So I started to drive across the prairie, looking for a clear, level spot to camp on.

The prairie grass was in thick clumps, with not a clear spot between large enough to lay my head, much less my entire body. Moreover, I had only the glow of the tail light to aid in my search.

Suddenly, I came on a patch of level, clear ground. I quickly stopped lest I should overshoot the spot and have trouble finding it again in the darkness. I threw down my sleeping bag, and when I killed the tail light, it got really dark! At this point, my only concern was the heat from the Norton's cylinders might attract rattlesnakes on the hunt.

Fortunately, no rattlesnakes disturbed my sleep, and I awoke aware there was more light surrounding me than I would expect from the earliest crack of dawn. I poked my head out of the sleeping bag, and WTF? .... there was a car, stopped about 20 yards away. His line of travel indicated he would have driven over me had he not seen me or the bike. The driver watched me curiously as I got out of my sleeping bag, then giving me a very wide berth, circled around me and disappeared across the prairie.

I was tying my bedroll on the Norton when two more cars showed up ..... more WTF moments! By the time I was ready to crank up the Atlas, dawn had broken sufficiently, giving enough light to see that I was on some primitive dirt road .... A ranch road, I surmised, but why the f*%k was there so much traffic on it at this early hour? Yet another car came along, and by this time, the light had improved enough that I could see I was on a newly graded road with grade stakes. This was the future I-70! The traffic was the construction workers using the grade to get to the jobsite.

Now a days, when I travel I-70 in Kansas, I always wonder just exactly where on that ribbon of concrete that I slept the night.

Slick

Well that’s a story, you are very lucky you didn’t end up as “roadkill”!

My friend got drunk at the Phillip Island races in about 1970. Fell asleep on the circuit, and almost got run over by a speeding car early the next morning.

Bernhard said:

Well that’s a story, you are very lucky you didn’t end up as “roadkill”!

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Well Bernhard, here is one more story where I nearly caused the road kill.

I took a night course as an undergraduate to acellerate my curriculum. The course was at an inner city venue, and I had to wind my way thru some "seedy" neighborhoods to gain access to the main highway for my 35 mile commute.

I had the Atlas on "tight rein" in third gear one night, as I travelled the city streets. About 1/2 city block ahead of me, three dudes were crossing the street, and on seeing me, strung themselves out in a line, turned to face me and stood with their arms and legs spread eagled ..... A human barricade!

My first thought was to make a U turn and frustrate their plans. But then I ran one of my favorite maxims thru my mind .... "real men never go back!" So, I downshifted to 2nd, went WOT, laid down on the fuel tank, peeked out over the headlight, and went straight as a laser beam at the center guy (lasers had recently been invented back then).

I closed about 1/2 the distance to these guys, and no one had yet moved ..... did these guys really think they could catch a 400 lb. motorcycle travelling at speed?

The distance was decreasing exponentially, my speed increasing exponentially, and the Norton bellowing as only Norton's can.... finally the dude on my right bolted to his left, ..... that triggered the guy on my left to bolt to his right, but the center guy stood transfixed!

Closer, and faster .... finally the center guy leaned to his left, then to his right, then returned to center! "Oh no!" I thought ..... this sort of indecision results in flat squirrels on the road!

At this point, I could not stop if my life (his life?) depended on it. I figured the best thing I could do for this dude was keep going straight at him, giving him the option to bolt either way.

Finally, the dude dove headlong to his left, and I'll bet he felt the breeze as I passed him.

Slick

As a young apprentice electrician in British Steel Scotland in 1971 most of my tradesmen had been involved in the disagreement with Adolf. I was stupid enough to mention that my mates and I used to get frozen hands riding our bikes during Scottish winter weather and was advised by these defenders of the Empire that while serving their country as dispatch riders the trick to winter riding and cold was to piss on your hands to heat them up. Great advice which at the pub I informed my mates of the great hand warming advice upon which at chucking out time we all tried pissing on our hands but unfortunately my mentors forgot to tell me after a few miles our hands froze.Do not take advice from piss taking tradesmen happy days on my Commando still have it.