From: cm403173@longs.LANCE.ColoState.Edu (Christopher Macbeth)
Subject: "The Rifleman"
Date: Sat, 07 Nov 1992 05:13:51 GMT
Organization: Colorado State U. Engineering College

                             "The Rifleman"
                      aptly titled by Jeff Deeney


	I recently bought an 83 XR 350 for a nice diversion from my studies here
at CSU.   I used to race bicycles but now with all the course load and all I've
no time to stay in shape and really enjoy a bicycle ride without spitting blood
so I thought a motorcycle would be nice.  It's been a good 15 years since I've 
ridden a motor but I was surprised how much I'd retained.

I thought about buying a "Crotch Rocket", but after trying one I realized I would
die quickly if I wanted to have any fun.  So the next best thing was a street
legal dirt bike.  Here in Colorado the laws are pretty lax and my XR came with
a title so I could register it.   -Great-.

Two weekends ago I was out blowing off steam in an area around here near Pingree
Park which is part of the Roosevelt National Forest.  I knew I was better
off riding a registered bike here to avoid most hassles.  It was
hunting season at the time so occasionally I'd run into a hunter, most were
OK and one asked me if I could ride down this ravine and haul up the three
pointer he just shot.  This guy was so proud he couldn't wait to tell someone
about his kill.  He was very friendly.  Most of the hunters would wave but
occasionally one would not even look at me, or give me poison darts for looks. 
Nonetheless I always slow down to a crawl when I get near people so as not to
aggrevate them.

There is this one forest service road which looked rather inviting from the "main"
auto road.  I've seen it before and was quite anxious to check it out.  It turned
out to be a great road to catch lots of air on.  So here I am riding up this
mountain road that is lots of ledge and waterbars, totally forgetting about 
Calculus & Physics.

Come to a hairpin, pivot, crank on the throttle, lift the front, and jump.  One
right after the other.  It was great.  

Come to a corner, pivot,... Whoa...., I see this Chevy Blazer parked
in the road so I slow down and try to be respectable.  I look up to see a hunter
along side the Blazer looking down the side of the mountain.  He carefully turns,
spreads his legs, nestles his cheek to his stock and takes aim through his high
powered scope -AT ME-!!!!

So here I am, looking down the wrong end of the barrel of a gun at 30 ft.  You know how
your mind works at a bazilloin miles an hour in situations like this?  Well mine
surely was!  I looked at this guy, he was about in his mid-fifties, dressed in
camoflage with BARELY any orange on at all.  He's eyeing me through his scope
and his body is shaking he was so upset.  I realized then I could not have a 
philosophical discussion with him about gun control, abortion, or civil rights.
He's screaming at me the whole time looking through the scope with his finger on
the trigger.  I killed the engine to hear this maniac.  I said, "Geez, I saw the 
Forest Service marker so I thought it was OK to ride here".  His very pointed
response, "It IS a Forest Service road but it IS NOT OK to ride here.  It's
hunting season so get your F%$#@ING ASS off this mountain. --NOW-- GODDAMMIT!"

Well I could see my choices in this situation were quite limited --- live or die.
Truth is, if this loon decided to drop me right there I probably wouldn't have
been found till the spring thaw.  I was pretty far out there.  He was shouting 
at me accusing me of aggrevating hunters "ON PURPOSE" (he said emphatically).
I didn't know whether he was going to cry or shoot.  I told him I was not 
aggrevating anyone on purpose as I jostled the bike around the trail.  Of course
I had trouble starting the bike, and my back was to him at this point.  I decided
to roll it down the trail and bump start it just to get out of there.  I did have
thoughts of getting shot in the back though.  

I was so stunned that I really had no time to be scared - untill about 1-2
minutes had passed.  Then I got pissed off.  Where I was riding was this
valley that I had to go up the other side.  Sound travels well.  I got out of his
sight and cranked that sucker harder than I had all day.  Then I found a trail
parallel to the one I was on.  Yep, I cranked on that one too.  I admit, it
wasn't much retribution but it was all I had.  Besides I knew this moron was
upset the way he was shaking when he yelled at me, so this was surely getting to
him.  He'll have a heart attack and die an early death I'm sure of it.  The Creep.

Since then I've had several suggestions (or questions) like; did you get the 
plate number of the Blazer?, or too bad you didn't get a better description of
this guy.  All these are very good suggestions, and very valid, but I was just 
concerned with getting my butt and my life out of there.  Next time I'll know
better and maybe I can react differently but at that time going home and studying
my Calculus was looking like quite the viable option.


Chris.