02-21-2011, 12:14 PM | #11 |
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Join Date: Nov 2008
Location: NC
Posts: 3,028
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I rode my first dirbike back in 81. Rode that bike until I was 15.
I've ridden streetbikes (standards) since 1990 I switched to Sportbikes in 1999 after I met Brian. He had a Ducati 916 and drew me into riding fast. Very fast I then stepped up to a TLR and modified the hell out of it. From there a CBR1100XX to do some touring (Brian had a BMW K1200RS and I wanted to tour as well) After that I got a busa, then an R1, then the motard and the GSXR 750 In the same time I got a BMW R1150RT I LOVED street riding...especially FAST street riding. That all changed on Sept 5 2009. I know you’ve heard this story…but it’s part (not all) of the reason I no longer ride street….so I’m telling it again. I was rolling thru the mini deals gap with Brian on our motards. I had a lead on him and was cutin a great groove when I looked back and didn't see him. I stopped and killed the engine to hear when he was coming. I head a limb crack in the woods and my heart dropped. I cranked up and rolled up to the previous curve to see a black mark going off the road and over the side of the cliff. I parked and ran over to see my best friend 50 ft down the side of the mountain laying on top of his bike...eyes open, visor broken. I ran down and tried to wake him up. Gave him CPR and when I blew in his mouth blood spewed from his nose. I knew he was gone. Later that afternoon my wife and I told his wife Julie of his death. I saw her crumble. That didn't stop me from riding street. Actually I got faster. Took it more to the track but still loved street. That was until October 14 this past year. That's when I was riding the RT at a good clip in the mountains with some buddies when I rounded a corner and hit some sand and fine gravel from a flooding washout and tucked the front tire. As I was going down time stopped......I saw the bike sliding across the street. The bike my wife and I rode quite often, as well as my kids. And while she nor the kids weren't WITH me that day, all I could see was her helplessly trapped on that back seat as the bike crossed into the oncoming lane on it's side. What if she WAS with me that day? What if a car was coming? What if SHE was killed? What if it were my son? The thought of me killing my wife, or one of my kids on a ride shook me to an unimaginable level. The thought of one of my friends having to deliver the news to MY wife that I delivered to Julie....I can't do that to my wife....or my friends I rode the RT home that day 150 miles without a windscreen, mirrors, and with tattered fairings….but I was shook beyond believe. I decided at that point I’d NEVER ride the open roads again. I sold the GSXR and the BMW and bought a dirtbike to ride offroad and to do motard trackdays….and I’m a much happier person.
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“Being tolerant does not mean that I share another one’s belief. But it does mean that I acknowledge another one’s right to believe, and obey, his own conscience.” Viktor Frankl |
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