From: dab@vuse.vanderbilt.edu (The Nashville Flash)
Subject: Re: Share your scare stories:Ever put the bike down two-up?
Summary: LONG re-posted excerpts
Originator: dab@space3
Organization: Vanderbilt University School of Engineering, Nashville, TN, USA
Date: Thu, 23 Jul 1992 18:35:02 GMT

>In article <4915@gdls.UUCP> parker@gdls.UUCP (The Dougster) writes:
>>Has anyone ever had to lay it down
>> with a passenger sitting behind you?
>
In article <1992Jul23.160643.14553@cs.cornell.edu> karr@cs.cornell.edu (David Karr) writes:
>You make it sound like one gets to pick and choose how one crashes.
>True sometimes, perhaps, but few of the stories here would qualify.
>"It suddenly decided to lay down" seems more common than "I knew 
>then that I'd have to lay it down."

Or how about, "All of a sudden we were skating down the road on our butts..."
Digging up three excerpts from my archives...

<begin re-posted/edited material>
<FIRST>
On a YDS3 Yamaha (305 Big Bear) Scrambler:

My girlfriend, the Bear, had been in out of town for a while.  So long, in fact
that she had never seen the bike.  The night she got home, I took her for a 
ride.  It had snowed the day before, but the temperature had been up into the
forties all day.  The roads were clear.  So we bundled up and went for a ride.
We rode for a half hour or so, having a terrific though freezing time.  We 
entered a long sweeper on a very back road.  There we were, two-up on the bike.
Bear's legs pressed up close to my legs, her arms around me with her hands in
my jacket pockets.  In an instant, there we were, in exactly the same position,
sliding down the black ice on the road, with the bike out it front on its side,
a graceful arc of sparks spurting up from the brake lever.  During that time-
expansion thing, I thought, "What happened?  We must have hit ice.  Look at my
bike on it's side.  Uh oh, we're heading for a telephone pole.  GET BACK!  How
can you 'get back'?  Good, we're going to miss the pole."  Then FWOOMP, we hit
the snowbank.  Damage assessment revealed that the Bear was virtually 
unscaythed. I had a torn glove and had apparently skated down the road on my 
wallet in my back pocket, wearing a hole in my pocket and my wallet, but not 
the contents.  The bike had a somewhat narrower brake pedal and, unfortunately,
a kinked throttle cable.  We hitched a ride to a telephone and called up the
Bear's brother, Kevin, who came to get us in his truck.  The Bear LOVED the 
ride.  Kevin never did tell her folks.  The damage to the bike was minimal.  
And I needed a new wallet.  As wrecks go, I guess everything worked out fine.
The Big Lesson I learned that night was about winter riding and black ice.

<SECOND>
In article <1991Sep10.181633.18104@europa.asd.contel.com> jpg@europa.asd.contel.com (GUNN) writes:
> Once you know that you are inevitably committed to falling, and there is
>NOTHING you can do to save it, at the VERY LAST MOMENT, kick the motorcycle 
>away from you so it doesn't land on top of you, catch up with you, etc.

I'll second that notion!  And follow it up with a tale...
It had rained earlier that day.  But I REALLY wanted to take Suzanne for a 
ride.  And I think she may have REALLY wanted to go for one, too.  :-)
Like the inky-dinky (isty-bitsy?) spider song said, "UUUUP came the sun 
and dried up all the rain."  At least, I thought it dried up all the rain.
We had a nice ride for a while and then it happened...
There was a bunch of tree poop under a big old tree at the apex of a curve on
a hilly section of road.  The back end of "The Beast" (R75/5) let go when we
hit the slime.  As I felt the bike go past the point of no save... I PUSHED it
hard.  When I did this, it stood back up and the tires caught traction and it
continued on in the line it had been following.  (Who says BMW's don't handle?)
Unfortunately, Suzanne and I were skating along behind the bike on our butts.
All I could think as the asphault ground its way through my leather wallet was,
"Wait for ME!"

A Grand Prix carload of little leaguers was headed in the other direction.  All
THEY saw was this BIG motorcycle come around the curve from behind the tree
with NOBODY riding it.  (Ichabod Crane for the seventies.)  The scoot continued
following the curve to the right, even when the road twisted back to the left.
The Beast left the road and bounced through a gully.  It then became somewhat
airborne and the longitudinal-crank action/re-action effect caused it to roll
slightly in the air.  Upon subsequently landing in a non-vertical attitude, it
bounced and came to rest... missing several trees along the way.
Suzanne and I were fine and the bike wasn't too badly messed up.  So the little
league left... with a VERY impressive story to tell their folks.  The damage
assessment revealed Suzanne with well worn jeans, me with a hole through my
wallet but not the money (not the first time) and the Beast rideable, though
with a slightly twisted swing-arm.


<THIRD>
In 1983 my (newlywed, now ex-) wife, my R80G/S and I went to
Europe.  This is but a single tale...

So there we were, minding our own business, riding up Viale Michelangelo
to the Piazze di Michelangelo in Fierenze(Florence).  We had come MANY
thousands of miles through the US, Cananda, Great Britain, and Northern 
Europe.  Virtually the whole way we had worn full leathers, helmets, boots
and gloves.  This particular day in Italy was *different*.  It was HOT,
damn hot.  It was ~110 F.  There is a saying about "When in Rome..."  We
weren't in Rome, but we HAD noticed that virtually none of the locals wore
any riding gear whatsoever.  As I recall, we decided that since it was SO
hot, and since we intended to ride about 20 miles with about 20 stops taking
all day, it made sense to leave the jackets, helmets, boots, and gloves in
the hotel.

As I said, there we were, riding up the Viale M. which is a twisty road that
goes uphill after crossing the river.  The Piazze di M. is a wonderful 
vantage point particularly on a clear day with a BLUE sky such as this one.

Winding our way up the hill, I noticed parked on the right, an MV Agusta.
Oooh, "" I say to myself, "I'd like a better look at THAT."  Now the Viale
is a 2 lane with a solid yellow line, posted 50kph.  There aren't a hell
of a lot of places to turn off.  Up ahead, I see a driveway on the left.
So I engaged the turn signal, and checked the mirror.  Car behind.  
Slowing for the turn I re-checked the car in the mirror to see he has backed
off.  Commence to turn...

	B A N G !

Me, my wife, and my bike are suddenly all three airborne and tumbling.
Nifty slow motion effects that accompany motorcycle accidents are expanding
time greatly.  Kawhump, we all come down and tumble down the road.  I notice
a grey individual and motorcycle also tumbling down the road.  Hmmm.

We all eventually come to rest.  The grey individual turns out to be a 
Itali-squid in grey leathers onna 600SL (Duc).  He comes over to the wife & 
I who are now sitting under a tree and starts harrangueing us in Eye-ty.

Passers-by assist us.  An ambulance arrives and hauls us to the hospital
which is two doors down the road.  Wife has considerable road rash and
hurt back.  I have 2 stitches in finger and "broken" leg.  I used to be
an X-ray service guy so when they say "CAST" I say, "I WALKED in here.
Lemme see the X-ray."  I see very small crack in small legbone.  I say,
"Ace bandage."  They say, "cast."  I say, "You put a cast on me and I'll
cut it off with this Swiss Army knife and leave it in the trash can 
outside.  Gimme an Ace bandage."  Ace bandage.

We had friends of the family in Florence who helped us out.  I'll skip
all the stuff that went on for about ten days and just give the highlights.
I ended up disassembling and repairing the bike myself at the Silvio Motors
BMW dealership.  All he did was get the gas tank welded and sell me some 
parts.  The left valve cover was crushed.  (There was some hidden damage
which turned up later... But that's another story.)  The subframe was bent.
And there were a few minor problems.  I finally got fed up with "Domani"
(tomorrow) and was well enough to do it myself.

Marco, the doctor-friend of the family had a lawyer friend.  We sued for
damages and won.  Big deal.  The hospital bill, which I paid on my way
out the door was for 4 X-rays, cleanup-up, 2 stitches, an ace bandage , and
an ambulance ride was get this US$64.00! (Are we getting ripped off in this
country or WHAT?)  The bike parts ran about $400.  We got some "pain &
suffering" out of it 'cause we looked SO pitiful in the bruise & roadrash
photos I took.  I think the whole deal was about $1200 of which the lawyer
got 1/3.

What happened?  I found out when I talked to the guy in the car that was
behind us.  It turned out he was a US citizen that spends 1/2 his time in
his Italian office and 1/2 in his NY office...
I looked back at him.  I looked forward and started braking.  Squidly
came flying up behind him from around the previous curve and whipped out 
across the solid line to pass.  I cut left after checking my mirror and
seeing only the car.  Squidly T-Bones R80G/S at left jug, as the witness
describes it, "with such a force that I thought everyone would be killed."
Turns out Squidly had lotsa wrecks & tickets and they take a DIM VIEW of
that sorta stuff in Italy.

<end reposted stuff>
If you haven't read this stuff before... we rode another few thousands of
miles through Italy, Yugoslavia, Austria, (West)Germany, Canada and the
US of A before we got home.

If you've read this stuff before... sorry I haven't written anything lately.
They're keeping me busier 'n a one-legged man in an ass-kickin' contest.
I actually have to WORK to get an MSEE.  I should (MUST) be done in December.  
Anybody out there know of any good positions available for a motorcycle 
riding MSEE?
============================================================================
 "No hour of life is lost that is spent in the saddle." - Winston Churchill
    The Nashville Flash	  -   dab@vuse.vanderbilt.edu   -   DoD # 412