From: jep@cs.duke.edu (Jonathan E. Polito)
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Subject: First Annual RCR and Crash
Date: 28 Jul 92 18:12:08 GMT
Distribution: rec
Organization: Duke University CS Dept., Durham, NC


Well there are several ways to look at this RCR crash. Let me give you
my version from my view. Oh, and if I forget to mention it, this
is the up close and personal view :_(

Short of it:
	I wrecked.


******* Official DoD story of what happend *******
	T O P                    S E C R E T 
	DoD  S E C R E T S   R E V E A L E D

After quick jaunt of about 165 miles of super-and-not-so-super slab we
finally arrived at the campground. There already were a lot of
Denizens there and so we started talking and living it up a bit. I had
a few beers and was getting hungry. Others were hungry also and so we
decided to go get some lunch. Someone suggested we could ask the woman
at the BP station were we could eat. It was really hot at this point
and I didn't feel like wearing my Aerostich suit. So I changed into
some shorts and sneakers donned my helmet which was really lucky. We
started out and I felt much better and cooler. After the campgrounds
gravel road we hit the very winding back mountain road. I was doing
pretty well, and as Carl Lovejoy remarked he really thought I knew
what I was doing since I was getting some really good lean. All of a
sudden after I down shifted, my shoe lace came untied and I looked
down to make sure it wasn't about to tangle in anything.  By the time
I looked back at the road I realized I was entering a really sharp
left hand uphill turn.  Just as I was leaning way over I realized that
a little girl was pushing a toy baby carriage across the street. I
figured I couldn't really worry about her since I had to concentrate
on the turn. Still she was in the back of my mind and knowing from the
Net what a llama will do to a bike, I figured a little girl would be
pretty bad too. At this point, I had some serious lean, and then I got
the sensation of the rear wheel breaking loose, the bike touching
down, and me sliding off. The bike was stopped a little aburptly by a
post and beam type fence and I came to a stop and sat up just as
others arrived at the scene. One of the guys told me later that a few
more feet and I would have be straddling the post and singing alto.

Luckily, I remebered all those posts about "What to do if your bike
falls over" and before checking myself I rushed over to the bike and
switch it off. After some heavy emergency braking by others in the
group (luckily there was a driveway there for Chris and her CB-1), and
seeing that I was standing, most of the group felt it inconvenient to
stop and help since they were hungry and wanted to get some riding in.
Luckily a few kind souls in the group helped me out 
and got the bike up and we surveyed the damage.  Left bar bent. Left
front turn signal ripped off after putting a dent in the tank. Body
work damage on the left side around headlight and turn signal, trip
reset knob ripped off, radiator grill body work, left passenger peg,
left saddlebag, right rear turn signal and fuel tank (from fence).
After picking up the pieces and starting the bike, I amazed everyone
with my intrepidness and continued on...still leaning into the corners
(though not as much). We stopped at the BP station to get a
recommendation for lunch and the owner let me try to call some local
shops but none were open. She asked if I crashed at so and so spot and
she was right on. Apparently, people crash there regularly. 

So off we went again with my funky bars to get some grub. I didn't
really know where I was supposed to be going so I stopped right after
this one turnoff. That was the road we were supposed to take so I
started a U-turn on this seriously off camber road and dropped the
bike again at near Steve Anderson speed (~ 1cm/sec ). At that point I
realized I was really shaken up and so I went back to get some food at
the BP station and then back to camp.  The woman at the BP asked what
was wrong with my bike and I told her of my bent bars. She said, "My
son-in-law is a welder, and he could probably heat up that bar and
bend it back." I asked her where he was and she said he lives right
next store. She called and he said to come over so off I went up the
driveway. He said if I removed the bars he could straighten it in
about 10 minutes. By this point, about 4 of the group also decided to 
come back, and they helped me take off my bars.  They were an
incredible pit crew (Carl Lovejoy, Chris Hogan, Cliff Weston, ???).
The son-in-law welder heated and rebent the bars 3 times until we were
satisfied and then painted them.  The charge? $5. I thanked him for
doing it so quickly and he said he needed a break from working on the
horse trailer that was giving him problems. So now I have a near
perfect bar. 

Back to the campground.  Time to drink beer, talk about the crash,
thank people. Camp ground guy says guy at crash site complaining about
broken fence. Have to go back to the crash site. Ed takes me in the
DoD Truck from Hell. A pretty nice truck at that. No one was home at
the time of the crash, though some locals drove by about 3 times with
insipid smiles on their faces. I told Bubba and his cousin Joe-Bob,
who is also his brother and step father, this and apoligized very 
politely and reverently as any God fearing North Carolinian would.
Bubba said all he could ask me to do is fix the fence. Ok how much.
Hmmmm. I'm having trouble understanding what he is saying. It seems he
is intent on *me* fixing the fence. I explain that I am on a
motorcycles, have no idea where to get a 6' beam for the fence, and am
just here for the night. He smiles and hands be an axe and points me
to some trees. 4 hrs later, sweating profusely, I had whittled a tree
down to a beam. Unfortunately, it was an inch too short. Well, Bubba
said $15 dollars would cover it even though Joe-Bob seemed certain
$10 would be enough. Bubba prevailed and I cut a check for $15
(luckily I live in NC and they accepted the check since they wouldn't
give me change for a $20).

Back to the camp ground.  Drink more beer, hear Roid talk loudly, drink 
MORE beer, hear Roid more faintly, see Ed in his hat, drink MORE beer,
see Ed more faintly. Meet Werner from Venezula originally from
Germany, touring the States on an R100GS. Eat some good chicken and
corn-on-the-cob, some poser hot sauce. Drink more beer, make fun of
the hot sauce. 

All in all, a very fun time despite my personal setback. Ed you and
Sandy did a fabulous job! The first annual RCR was a huge success,
imho -- at least I got my turn to crash out of the way.





--
Jonathan Polito                                      DoD #x (K 100)
jep@cs.duke.edu                                  jpolito@encore.com 
              "You Don't Say...." --- Sylvia Plath