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Discussion Starter #1
We haven't had one of these threads for a long time.

Soo...... what is your funniest or most embarrassing motorcycle story?:)

I have one I will see if I can find the link or I will just re post it.

Cheers,
DaveM:cool:
 

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Discussion Starter #2 (Edited)
I'll start off, some will have read it before........

OK...................deep breath......... Seeing as my 3 yo post of this story is awol now I will tell it again with some background info as I go.

It is not about a Sprint because at the time the only popular Triumphs were leaky twins (I had one a couple of years later).

Anyhoo.................... turn your clocks back to when I was 17 and some odd months, let see that would be around............1976.

I was the very proud owner of my first bike a 1975 shiny green metalic Yamaha RD 250.

Now for the younger folks hear these puppies were the fastest 250's on the market, a two stroke twin, bred for racing when two strokes were very popular and very fast.................yes that is right once upon a time it was actually very cool to make lots of burnt super two stroke oil in clouds behind you and nobody batted an eye lid.
This was when Honda fours and the mighty 900 Kwakaduckies were scaring European bike manufacturers to death.......................

When Sealey made custom Honda 750's and Rickman made fast Honda 750's too.........

Yes in a far distant galaxy................etc etc Well you get the general idea..........on with the story!:sleeping:

I also was the proud owner of a Lewis Leathers M/c Jacket and a nice racey pair of Belstaff leather pants and some big ass Monza 4 buckle motorcycle boots not dissimilar to what the traffic cops of the day wore.

So you can see I was one really really COOL Dude!

So I am on my way to a mates place for a big ride, I am riding up this hill near home see and on the right hand side up ahead is a servo (gas station) and some shops (3 or 4).
I am doing the flipper thing with my left foot dancing a merry jig on my 6 speed gearbox so as I can keep the beast between 6,000 rpm and 8,000rpm cos that is where the power is (there isn't any anywhere else but between that range is warp factor 9).

So I am smoking and screaming ( the stroker that is) up the road knowing that there is NO One else as cool as me on the planet (no one in NZ at this stage has leathers like my Gran brought me over from Scotland see).


Well my well honed testosterone powered eye sight spies me some little lovely cute and sexy young ladies up ahead outside these shops see.

Now am close to warp 6 and accelerating faster than my brain can think (not usually that difficult), but my mind is now starting to wander from my very few motorcycling skills thought pattern.

So wanting to look extra impressive I thought I would lean down and fiddle with my right boot buckle to draw attention to those fantastic big ass Monza 4 buckle boots.:rolleyes:

What I did not factor is that while dangling down there my wonderfully powerfull Yammarocket was subtly changing direction towards the kerb.

By the time I looked up and glance over looking very debonair at the girls.......I am now almost parrallel to them.

EEEkkkk Faaaarck! :motorbike:I am now riding at warp 8 with both wheels hard up against the high side kerb and heading for a small gap about the size of my tyres which is a driveway cross over.

Apply full brakes you bloody idiot and get away from this [email protected]@#king kerb quick!

I rattled through the 4" gap (yes children once tyres were skinny) and came to a stop with tyre hard against the high kerb directly adjacent the sexy teenage girls.

I then proceeded to fall over on my left into the muddy grass verge in slow motion!:wubclub:

They saw me smokin up the road hit the curb and fall in the mud in all my flash new kit................ then it wouldn't kick start (like all good yammie strokers!)

Eventually I got her running sort of and took off in a huge cloud of blue smoke and running half on one cylinder , and MAN WAS IT HOT INSIDE MY HELMUT!!!!!

For those of you still awake thank you for reading, I hope you had a good laugh at me as I do when ever I remember the first of many many offs.

cheers,
DaveM
 

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I was seventeen commuting to wherever early one wet English morning. My bike was a 118cc Suzuki B100P, universally known as a Suzy Bloop, shod with Inoue (Thailand's finest) tyres. These tyres were awful in the dry but much worse in the wet. British Bike magazine described tyres such as those as being Sensitol lubricated....

The traffic was backed up from the roundabout around the corner. I misjudged the situation by a country mile, about par for a seventeen year old! The front wheel locked the instant I grabbed the brake & I went flying through the air, past the drivers sitting in the queue, down the middle of the road whilst I was shouting some very choice words. I landed & slid to a stop & my bike followed. I was completely unhurt (also a trademark of teenagers) but it's the most extreme embarassment I've ever felt because I did something so stupid in front of well meaning rational grown up car drivers!

All I had to do the Bloop was straighten the forks. I knew how to do that- 3 months earlier I'd crashed on the same corner, riding in the opposite direction, also in the wet. But that was all on my own without a gallery of onlookers.

DaveB.
 

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Err, the most embarressing thing was that it wasn't that long ago...:eek:

Had a new 749r (so that'll be 2004 then), all of 2 days old, riding at - couldn't have been more than 2mph, glanced across at lovely looking lady (they seem to feature a lot in these sorts of stories). Lo and behold, the car in front brakes, thankfully I look 'round at him in time, but in grabbing the front brake, I had completely misjudged just how slippery new tyres can really be.

Whoosh straight over onto fairing, no rear brake, magled bits and peices and a repair bill for £1500!

Very frustrtaed, and suitably chastened.:)
 

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I was meeting up with some guys for a 3 day motorcycle camping trip. I only knew one of the guys on the trip. I was the last one to show up, everyone else was standing around the dealership parking lot. I ride up, all eyes on me, I pull up give the bike too much front brake, some how, and by the time I got my foot down it was over to far and down I went. didn't do too much damage because before I went all the way over the guys standing around helped get the bike back up. I only had some scratches on the faring and saddle bag.

I couldn't help but wonder what these guys were thinking "we,ve got to ride with this guy for the next three days WATCH OUT!"

I took alot of ribbing but the rest of the ride went fine. It just wasn't a great way to introduce myself to the rest of the group.

Sprintboy
 

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Back in the 90's, a bunch of us pirate types went to Biketoberfest in Daytona. The first night, we ended up at a small local bar outside of Daytona not too far from our hotel. The bar owner had us park our bikes in the fenced dirt lot behind the place, where'd they wouldn't be visible from the road (lots of bikes go missing in Daytona during the event weeks).

After a couple of hours, one fella, a rather personable man we'll call "Norm", decided he'd had enough to drink, was tired from a long day of riding and was going back to the hotel. Norm was the sensible one of our crew, didn't appear wasted, so when he said he was ok to ride the two blocks to the hotel, we didn't hassle him.

The other four of us were on our stride, so we stuck around until last call a couple hours later. We went out to the secluded parking lot to mount our not-so-trusty steeds and go home, and lo and behold, there's Norm.

Sleeping.

On his bike. Or rather, his bike is on him. He wasn't pinned (crash bars), just had one leg under the bike.

We run over, get the bike off him, and wake him up. I asked him what the hell happened.

He said "Well, I reckoned I was too drunk to ride, too tired to walk, so I just leaned the bike over and took a nap. Besides, it's easier to get off the bike this way. I'm hungry. You boys wanna get some breakfast?"
 

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Last year i had a brand new BMW f800st.
Very shiny it was. I parked it up in a pedestrian shopping area where bikes tend to gather and theres lots of people passing by.
I got on the bike to leave after i did what i went for. Just before i got on i was distracted by my mobile phone. The call was acrimonious and got distracted.
So i finished up, got on my bike and rode away, totally forgetting about my rear wheel being chained up [luckily not chained to anything]. I got about 6 inches and then flopped over like a landed carp. I entertained all the local youth in one embarrassing moment. Calls of "wanker" combined with manic laughter, they were quite right!.
No Harm done, once i managed to pick up the bike and get the chain out from being jammed around my rear brake.
Never done it since.
 

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Wow..

...I have many for all my years riding. Want this to be a long thread? LOL

Once I owned a 1982 H.D FLT. Stripped off all the "bagger" stuff. Bought fishtail mufflers to replace the huge stockers. They looked great and sounded it too. On my FLT, the rear muffler mounts are incorperated into the hard-bag brackets. So I leave the stock head pipes (from cyl. heads to mufflers) and attach the fishtails.

"But wait, with the factory rear-mounts gone, how do I hang/ support the mufflers?" "Ahhhh, here we go, this looks like a good place!"

So with some strap-iron and a couple (automotive) muffler straps, installation complete. Every so-many miles, my homemade mounting system keeps...moving. Loosen it all up, reallign, all good. Few miles later, they moved again.

After weeks of this I come up with an idea!! Drill a hole thru the muffler & the strap, run a bolt thru it. That'll keep it from moving again. Worked great, till the headpipes broke!! Off to the parts shop to buy an aftermarket headpipe. As they are running my credit-card to order the new headpipe, I look out the window & stare at my bike, wondering why in the world this kept happening. Then I realized why. I had attached the muffler mounts to the SWING-ARM!! The up and down of the swing arm kept shifting the mounts. When I drilled the holes thru the mufflers/mounts to prevent this, the next thing in line was the headpipe to take the load. Dont ask me how I didnt realize what I had done wayyyy back then.
 

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We'll I'm new to biking so not had time to rack up the stories yet, though I'm sure with time.. But..

When I picked up my new Sprint I was happy as larry, though slightly overwhelmed by the size when I had to maneuver it out of the guys garden and out onto the street, but I managed to get it through the gate and pull around onto the street where we would do the final 'thank you for everything' chat.

Guy walks off I'm sat there in the silence of the night. I faff around, getting my helmet on 'just right' and sorting my gloves to get comfy and finally the moment, I start it up, wow it sounds nice.. check mirrors, shoulder check and knock it into first gear, fumph....dead

hmm, press the starter, wont start... turn lights off, on, play with the alarm, take the key out, alarm on, key in, OW THAT ALARM HURTS. Turn off alarm, check the emergency cutoff, make sure I'm using the clutch.

This went on for about 10 mins, and I noted how now the starter was starting to sound not so happy and wondered if it had a fuel switch (my honda does). I thought ok, stop. Turn it all off, get off cool down. So I go to put the footstand down.... to find it already down, and the problem all along had been that the bike cuts out when you try and put it into gear with the stand down..(I'm sure the guy must have been looking out the window thinking what is that idiot doing).
 

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Great thread!

I wish my story was little older than it is, too.....:eek:

I live in a rural area, and one of the local attractions (at least for my kids and their friends) is a gravel road out in the country that still has a stream running across it. Culverts were never put in underneath the crossing, so year-round it runs across the road at a 5 or 6" depth, and huge 2 or 3 foot deep pools have formed on either side - just right for kids to splash around in.

Some longtime friends of ours were visiting from out of state with their kids. I had just gotten home, and the phone rang. My wife and her friend had taken the kids down to the crossing to play in the water, and my wife and her friend were wearing out long before the kids apparently were going to....

My wife's friend had long wanted a ride on a motorcycle, but had never had one. My wife, thinking it would be fun for her friend, called to ask me to bring an extra helmet, and ride over to the crossing to give her friend a short tour of the area on my Tiger.

Always willing to comply with an excuse to ride, I headed over.

With far too much sense and composure to ride across the stream, I did a neat u-turn at the streams edge, and headed back the way I came, looking for a flat place to park the bike. Recent rains had carved pretty steep ditches on the roadside, and like the consummate professional, I looked straight at the ditch as I rode parallel to it. In keeping with modern thought, the bike went exactly where I was looking.:mad:

I stepped off the left side when I realized I couldn't save the fall to the right. The mud was so deep it took me, my wife and her friend all to right the bike, as the right handlebar and crash guard were both sunk deep in the mud, and steam was pouring off of the right header the entire time to add to the effect.

My wife's friend passed on the ride.:eek::D
 

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ahhh Ztolley...Ive done something of the same.

During the summer I stayed at my G-friends house. Head out in the morning to leave for work. Her two neibors come out to ask me about my ST. Trying to be brief (gotta get to work) yet polite i answer their questions and tell them how this has been the most reliable best bike Ive owned yet.

All done with the Q&A, I turn the key on, hit the start button......nothin. Key off/on...nothing. Kickstand down then up, hit the button...nothing. Now Im looking like an a$$.

Start playing with wires. Rechecking myself. Moving handlebar LtoR. Hit the button...nothing. Now I feel my bloodpressure going up cause I am embarassed (& not a morning-person either).

Almost 10min has gone by. Then I look down and realize.....the engine-kill switch was in the "off" position!!!!!!! DOH!! I laughed quite a bit to myself on my way to work.
 

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I once raced an AMA National Harescramble wearing womens panties...









I placed 2nd in 250B...
 

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One time on my first (legal) street bike (circa 1986, 1972 honda CB350) I did something stupid. On the first day I had this bike on the road, headn to work it started to run a little rough. I pull to the side of the road, figuring Ill give it a once-over. I pull up to the curb, place one foot on the ground, one on the curb. BOOM...fell right over onto the curb. I could hear people laugh as they drove by and watched me fall/try to pick the bike up.
 

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Actually, my story is Triumph related...back in the late 60's I had a Triumph Trophy 500 that I was really proud of. On a trip in Eastern NC, I was passing through a small rural town and came up on 5 or 6 riders on Hondas stopped at a traffic light. As I pulled up next to them I gave a friendly wave and one of them announced "we don't care much for Triumph's around here!" That comment didn't set too well with me and after trading a few barbs, we all agreed to go a few miles out of town and see which was better, my Triumph or one of the Hondas. One of those guys had a 350cc Honda and my bike, being a 500, gave me pretty good confidence that I could win this 1 mile drag race. In fact, I did get the jump on him and was leading until I maxed out at 96 mph. At that point, the other guy went by me laying on his seat with legs stretched out behind and left me far behind. After that trip, I sold my Triumph 500 and only got back into Triumphs a few years ago with a Rocket III. I have a feeling I could do much better with the modern Triumphs. Anyhow, to get beat by a 350 was plenty embarrasing.
 

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Well my embarassment came from being over confident and an under skilled. After riding dirt bikes and tooling around in parking lots and short trips on local roads using friends' street bikes all my life, one such friend convinced me that I needed to buy my own street bike and join him on weekend rides into the twisties.
So if it going to be in the twisties on my very first street bike we better go with the Honda CBR600, right?
I keep pace on the highway for an hour, and the exit ramp and even onto the real meat of the ride. Some rural road that twists around the South Florida farm lands. Then, chasing the other two riders into the third turn, I lost all confidence and grabbed a hand full of front brake.
The first thing I learned about physics that day is that grabbing all that brake while leaned into a corner CAN and WILL stand the bike straight up and then the bike will go straight. At 60ish MPH, when motorcycle tires hit wet grass from the morning dew, and you still have a firm hold of those brakes, gravity will take over the immediate physics lesson.
Now here is the embarrassing part...
My friends, realizing I was no longer behind them, rode back past me. I was in the ditch attempting to pull my CBR out of the swampy thickets. I could not get out of the ditch in time for them to see me. Two other riders out on that road saw me. One of them helped me pull the bike out and back onto the road while the other guy gave chase to my friends.
The CBR would have been rideable if only the shifter had not snapped off. My friend had to ride an hour home, get his truck and ramps, and an hour back in the truck...day of riding ruined because I decided to ride far above my level on a motorcycle I had not fully understood.
look----->lean----->believe
 

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Unfortunately this story happened on my RS...

So it was day three of my first big tour to the Phillip Island GP in 2005. Had my new tail pack, soft panniers, coloured matched riding gear... the works. I was feeling pretty proud, but of course I looked like a right tool.

I took a wrong turn heading into Mudgee that lead me to the Highway instead of the back road that I was looking for. No problem. I'll just turn around and stop at that Yamaha (trail bikes) dealership and ask for directions.

So I did that... pulled up right in front of the door on my yellow RS, with my yellow touring jacket, and yellow gloves. Went into the shop and asked for directions... then got into a long winded conversation about how fantastic it was to tour... you know when you're an experienced rider and all...

Once again as I left the shop I was feeling pretty good. Threw my leg over the bike, started it and slowly started moving. I then realised that because I had parked so close to the door I'd have to 'duck paddle' backwards before I would have enough space to turn the bike around and get out of the parking lot.

What a bad idea!!! I hadn't noticed the spoon drain behind me that was covered in loose gravel (I think my ego was in the way). As I got to the drain I put my left foot into the middle of the gravel and toppled over in ultra slow motion, cursing all the way. And when that was over I just lay there too embarassed to get up and ask for help.

Didn't matter... when I finally did get up, all of the guys from Yamaha were standing in the doorway laughing... but I was laughing too!!!:D:rolleyes:
 

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Unlike the other stories, mine does not involve the fairer sex. Just my own stupidity. The year was 1978, the bike was a Suzuki GS550E. My first new bike! The black one with the cast wheels and deluxe stepped seat, red backlit gauges and LED gear indicator. I had customized it with lower bars and grand prix grips to try to quell the high frequency vibration that the 550 was known for.

On to the story. A brand new park had just opened in my town with lots of curves and some rolling hills. As it was brand new and during the week I had the place mostly to myself so I had to try out my(non existent) racing skills. The roads were all one way.

As I came around one corner about 25 mph I lost the bike hit the ground and started sliding. Classic low side. As I slid into the curb with my hip the bike came came along and hit me from the other side crunching me in the middle. So much for my cornering skills.

Of course my first thought was my bike. My next was to get the bike up before any one came along. Just as I got the bike up a car came by and I waved as casually as I could so the wouldn't think anything was wrong. It was then I started taking inventory. Bike-bent bars, broken lever and ruined grip. Me-Bloody and torn seat of my pants, road rash approx 4"x4" on my butt, sore hip from being hit on both sides, sprained wrist and bloody hand.

Very lucky it happened at the park on a closed one way road with nobody coming the other way, no other objects to hit besides the curb and I was going slow. I had a cheap helmet, jeans, tennis shoes and no gloves.

It took me about a month of changes bandages on my road rash to ponder all the lessons I learned that day. Most importantly how little I knew about really riding and how important gear is.
 

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The whole time I've owned my sprint has been full of embarrassing moments -

The day I bought the bike I had a friend ride to this girls house I was starting to date. Planned on leaving the bike at her house till the weekend so I could ride the bike home during the day. Well when we got there I needed to try out my new bike, never having ridden a street bike over 150cc. So I get the girl to come outside, of course her friends are over and they come too. She lives at a corner that I'd need to navigate to get out of her neighborhood. I ask my bud for tips and he said just be careful and feel the clutch. So, taking his advice I mount up and kick it into gear, let out the clutch and sputter sputter stall. Girl and friends are cracking up. 4 trys later I finally start to roll. Go to take the corner and start rolling on the throttle and leaning/turning the bars. Not being used to the throttle response as I rolled on the throttle the bike jerked causing more throttle, which is real bad when the bars are turned. 30 seconds later the bike is on its side, I'm all scraped up chick is dieing laughing and the bike skid farther than I rode it.

Got the bike upright and noticed the major strawberry on the once beautiful fairing, bent shifter needed straightening end ego was super bruised. Was able to get a nice quick spin in.

Got the bike back to her house, she has no garage so I was gonna stash it in her shed in the backyard. So like a moron that I was being that day I took the long way around which included what I thought was a slight dip in the grass. Turns out the small dip was a deep ditch that the city hadn't mowed in about 3 months. Bike goes in, submarines in the ditch (it was dry just muddy) Chick, friend, her friends were all laughing and again EGO took a huge huge huge hit.

Needless to say we're not dating anymore. Most of you know the outcome of the bike a few months later.
 

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Ok well if we journey back into the mists of time to when I was young, there were a LOT of such incidents, but I will share one for now and perhaps more later if anyone gains some vicarious pleasure from the first one, I am no story teller, but here goes:

Once upon a time (all the best stories begin this way or so I am told)..There was a young, very headstrong and foolhardy young man who was known locally to be a complete maniac, including on bikes (that would be me)... I worn a black leather 'biker' jacket with a cross of studs on the back with Black Sabbath in it stencilled in gold metallic paint and on occasion an oily denim waistcoat adorned with patches and badges declaring my allegiance to the likes of Led Zeppelin, Motorhead and Deep Purple on it.

At the time I had an XS250 that was almost new and I worked as a Physics Technician at the local Technical College. I was 17, almost 18 (1980). It was autumn and there were a lot of wet leaves on the ground / road in places, especially in the triangular shaped entrance to the college grounds. This was situated on a 90 corner, so one had to either go right, or in my case, left.....

Now naturally being young and hormonal and working at a college I felt a serious urge to 'be cool' and "impress" the girls with my prowess (especially some that I had the hots for)... The bike had a home made 2 into 1 (as I got fed up with grinding off the standard silencers and besides, my matt black 2>1 looked cool as well as being LOUD)....

This particular evening as I arrive at the end of the drive and stop for traffic prior to pulling out while turning left, I espy my lust of the moment waiting there for the bus.... Naturally I feel the need to be 'even more impressive' that usual, so...

I 'think' I will rev it up a bit more than usual before dropping the clutch, pull a bit of a wheelie and take off like the devil (all relative I know).... so I rev it up quite a bit more than usual and drop the clutch.....

At this point in time, time slowed down so all these next events probably happened within a few seconds, but it seemed like an age....

The bike did not move, the rev counter went up to the red.... I was puzzling this when I noticed a twitching from the back end.... Meanwhile 'my lust' and a gaggle of other girls are naturally looking in my direction (no doubt wondering what that utter wanker is doing on that bike making all that noise....)....

I look down / around at the back tyre (luckily to my left as it transpires)..... at this point time has really compressed.... as I twig that the back tyre is spinning madly on a patch of wet leaves... as at the exact same moment it ceases spinning, having worn through the leaves and gains traction... a LOT of traction! The bike leaps forwards and rears up like a stallion, it almost stood on end.... I still don't know how I hung on... luckily it tilted slightly left and therefore swung off to the left as it was doing this.... as speed increased, lift decreased and the front headed earthwards with remarkable speed... it hit so hard the horn punched a dent in the front mud guard (metal).... meanwhile as I 'regained control' I knocked it up into second and so on and blasted off down the road as if all of this had been intentional....whilst checking my underpants and thanking every god that sprang to mind that I was still alive...

So there you have it, how to demonstrate what a complete tosser you are to everyone whilst having the luck of the devil to even survive - I still laugh and cringe to this day every time I think of it!
 
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