Flying Harley

Krusty says...

Have you ever tried to get a Merkin day-van round a corner at anything
above 10mph? It's impossible.

 

I'd never risk driving anything that morphs into something else as soon
as the sun sets.

--
Krusty
www.MuddyStuff.co.uk
Off-Road Classifieds

'02 MV Senna '03 Tiger 955i '96 Tiger '79 Fantic Hiro 250

 

Krusty says...

What was it Clarkson said about the Corvette?

"It handles so badly, that if you park it outside a shop you'll come out
and find it facing in the opposite direction"

 

Ah but that's what I love about 'em. It might get a bit tiresome as an
everyday car, but something as tail-happy as a 'vette makes for a
perfect weekend toy.

--
Krusty
www.MuddyStuff.co.uk
Off-Road Classifieds

'02 MV Senna '03 Tiger 955i '96 Tiger '79 Fantic Hiro 250

 

My mate Eric, he of previous Vespa infamy ...

http://groups.google.com/group/uk.r...21542?lnk=st&q=&rnum=2&hl=en#7b77eddf3c421542
parked his POS scooter up a tree.

Even though he was proceeding cautiously along a tree-lined,
respectable residentail road, he was still caught out by a sudden
outbreak of excessive "surface dressing". You know the type - 2mm of
scanty tar, 50mm of drifting chippings.

Anyway, he wound off (for all the difference that made to WFO) and
extended his mighty legs as stabilisers. As was his habit, he was
wearing full protective equipment: open-face vintage helmet with
rear-facing eyes, sellotaped NHS specs, ex-RAF greatcoat with Mike
Harding and Dylan (the Magic Roundabout rabbit) badges, 1930's
Police-issue gauntlets, NCB-issue flared jeans and heavily-segged
cowboy boots.

He reckoned he was doing OK for a few yards, until a seg:
http://cgi.ebay.co.uk/12-PAIR-SHOE-...ategoryZ106124QQcmdZViewItem#ebayphotohosting
"caught in the road" and caused a jerk, which created a reflexive kick
from the mighty thews and then an almighty wobble in the gauntlets.

Trying to wrestle the little plot back on line, it appeared that a
stone chipping flew up, probably from the drift he was by then pushing
along, and jammed between the leg guard and front mudguard, wedging
the steering at a couple of points to port. As the road curved to
starboard, Eric and the Vespa trundled through the deep mound of
chippings at the edge, mounting the verge via a conveniently-placed
dropped kerb.

As soon as he saw the tree looming to his left, he realised that his
fate was sealed. A lesser man would have thrown himself clear at this
point, leaving the vile little Vespa to its arboreal fate, but Eric
was a tenacious teenager as befitted a part-time urban terrorist, and
had the thought occurred, would have instantly dismissed it.

Body-swerving a bollard and jinking a chevron board, Eric and Vespa
ran into the tree. Well, up the tree rather than into it, as the
trunk was less than vertical, the sickly sycamore having been
assaulted by other verge travellers previously.

Up the shallow-angled trunk they went, until sticky-out bits entangled
with other bits and the world held its collective breath for an
instant. Then Eric fell off. Falling all of eight feet to the
ground, he still managaed to catch every branch available on the way
down, landing in a heap of dodgy clothing and dodgier language.

Successfully groping for his two-piece spectacle set, he balanced them
in their customary place, detached the inverted greatcoat from its
incumbent badge-infested attachment to his beard and lid, and peered
upward at the tree. The Vespa was still up there, leaning only
slightly from the vertical, secured by a couple of stout branches ...
still running.

Heavily-metalled cowboy boots not being ideal for tree climbing, Eric
decided to go for assistance after falling off the tree trunk for the
third time. Greatcoats, tatty lids and distorted specs being less
than appealing to nice people living in nice houses opening their
doors, Eric shucked the gauntlets as well before ringing the third
doorbell.

Assistance was rendered, as well as a large quantity of pisstaking, by
a large Scottish gentleman and his three rugby player brothers who
were obviously well-versed in the art of removing scooters from trees
- they shook the tree until the Vespa fell out. Apparently it was
still running when it landed, but it didn't run at all for the
three-mile trudge home - in the rain.

Tricky old coves, these PTWs.

 

If it's Reeky you're referring to then you're too late: it's been and
gone there.

 

A while back there was a landslide on Hwy 84 between Alice's and the
coast. As it happens, the slide was at a sharp left-hand curve. It wiped
out part of the outside lane so the Caltrans put up stop lights and made
the slide area 1 lane to keep the road open while it was being repaired.
It was like this for well over a year. People got used to it, so when it
was fixed some people had a spot of bother.

Police and fire went to pick up a rider who went over the edge right
after the road opened at the newly repaired section. The bike was firmly
wedged in a tree. A few minutes after arriving they had to scatter as a
second bike flew into the same tree. But wait, drum roll please,
followed by a third not 20 minutes later. Caltrans put up a temporary
sign the same day to retrain everyone.

 

Cracking read. You should write a book.

 

"Why would they do that?"

Fucking irriot. Crap brakes, target fixation, handling of a pig on
roller skates and the reactions of a car driver on a weekend haarly,
frantically pressing the brake pedal instead of just forcing the bastard
into and around the bend.

 

Even I could do better.