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we have 2 vehicles plus my bike "03 vegas "

tonight i had to go shoot in my pool league and it just so happened every one had to go do something and so there was no car for me to use.

i had not started my bike at all after 6 weeks of either snow or rain the weather was not too bad today. only getting down to 38 but 40% chance of rain. after looking on the radar i like my chances of not getting rained on and rode my bike to pool league.

sprinkled a lil going but clear coming home. pulling up to the house i see both cars in the driveway so i did what i have done a hundred times before. i zip up my neighbors driveway and cut across my yard to get in front of both our vehicles.

big mistake tonight.... the bike sunk clear to the frame the ground was soft as hell from all the rain and snow.

after waking my g/f's 2 sons up to help me we finally get my bike out and onto our driveway after 1/2 hour of pushing and pulling.

then i had to go wash the mud off my neighbors car that the bike slung on it before i neighbor saw it and went off on me lol.

its the 1st time i ever did that and darn sure won't make that mistake again.
 

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Not really the same thing but your story reminded me of something I did was I was a kid. Mom and Dad had just had a their house built and we had just moved in. It was the first night in the house. Back then we were way out in the country. Very few other houses and Mom and Dad's place is on 3 acres. I was out riding my dirt bike, a little Suzuki 90, out on the road in front of the house. I see a big rat in the front yard. So as kids will do I take out after it. I chased that rat all over the yard. This is at night about 8:00. It has been raining off and on for the last few days and the ground was pretty soft. Also the front yard had recently been leveled and did not have a lot of grass yet. The next morning when Dad went outside he was ready to kill me, I had really messed up the front yard. So I spent the next day or so in the front yard getting rid of my dirt track.
 

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I tried to turn around in my dirt/sand/gravel driveway and as I got toward the edge both tires sank to the rims. It had rained the day before and since we never drive on the edges of the drive it hadn't compacted like the middle. I was going to slow ride through and it stopped me dead in my tracks! The bike just kinda clunked to the side on the forged bars. It took two of us to get it out. When we tried to lift it, it would sink more and slide away. I had get on the bike and start it while my friend helped keep it from going completely out from under me I just powered out until we were out of the sand bog. IT was a nice start to a 3400 mile round trip. I think I still have dirt on the tires! Oh yeah, I was just a bit embarrassed!:D
 

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then i had to go wash the mud off my neighbors car that the bike slung on it before i neighbor saw it and went off on me lol.
hahaha.....:)
 

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OK, you asked for it.

I got a stuck bike story that includes three bike wrecks in one night, a bar room brawl, a one eyed gal named Freda, a fat man that had too much belly hanging out of his leather for his own good, the Rhode Island State Police, some smarmy Guido sporting gold chains, platform shoes and a polyester suit and driving a beautiful boattail Riviera, and the taste you have to put up with after swallowing hi-test syphoning gas out of a sportster tank to get a panhead home.

Nope, not enough time for all that so here's just the stuck part.

The dinks in the pickup were right up my tail. I was hammering south of Chepachet, RI at about 2 in the AM on a '55 K model, kind of a flathead Sportie, but gutless. My bud left me in the dust on his panhead and these clowns behind me wanted their money back. I did shoot a good stick once upon a time but then I would get drunkified and run my mouth which made taking other peoples cash harder than it needed to be on them and often subsequently on me.

Anyway there was a long sweeper to the right and I was too far up the RPM band and too distracted by the Ford in my rearview. I could tell that a highside was possible but if I let off the hammer the shmucks in the truck would own Pop so I stayed in it. A little bit after the apex of that sweeper a side road came in and I shot across it diagonally at who knows? 75 maybe.

Turns out there was a ditch running along the highway and a culvert at that intersection. It had a concrete berm running along the side road but dirt and sand and so forth had built up a little bit of a ramp kind of effect and when the Harley hit that thing we, like the prayer says, slipped the surly bonds of earth.

Me and that bike sailed like Evel after taking off from that launching point and came down in that ditch and the bike stopped... dead. No more forward movement of the machine. I don't know what hit first, front or rear, but it buried that thing up to the axles in muck and sod and leaves and it stalled but mostly it stayed upright, right where it landed. Pop however was still subject to Newtons first law and I abided by that law (one of the few I was inclined to obey that particular evening). I remained in motion until an external force, that being gravity brought me to a ignominious stop on the embankment, thankfully not as moist and mucky as the bottom of the ditch, but not as soft either.

The bike was not damaged but neither was it moveable. I couldn't deploy the kicker in the muck and I couldn't budge it from the muck and I was alone.

I lit up a doob and sat down on the guard rail and waited for the next chapter of my life to happen. I didn't have to wait long or smoke that joint alone.
 

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Pop, I can honestly say that when I get on this forum, I look forward to seeing your posts. Great story! cheers
 

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Reminds me of a "not a bike" story.
I woke up to the phone ringing at about 2AM one day while I was still living at home. A friend had gone out to park but had gotten stuck in a muddy side road. Here I was in the middle of the night waking up my dad and asking him to help me go pull my friend out of the mud. When we got there I realized he had not just been running back roads he had his girlfriend with him. We got them out in about a half hour but for years after that I had to listen to my dad asking about that guy being out picking mushrooms in the middle of the night.
 

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High centered on a pile of gravel after swinging the rear around, smacking a boat (on a trailer) and barrel rolling twice. It really wouldn't bother me in the least if I never did that again but if I did it would help if Pop was around with an extra doob...
 

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Back when I was young and dumb (instead of like now where I'm old and stupid) . . .

Some friends and I were camping in a national forest up near Boulder Co. I was getting back to the campsite after a night of . . . uhmmm, we just won't go there . . . Well, it seems that if you turn off of a state highway onto a gravel road, you really really should be doing something less than 50 mph!! As I shot through the forest, alternately praying and cussing in the pitch black night . . . I still don't know how I didn't hit a single tree . . . I finally got the bike slowed down (does anyone even know the coefficient of friction of wet pine needles?) and started back to the road. I forgot about the ditch between the road and the forest! Oops, Now, I was at the bottom of a ditch (fortunately dry) that was too tall and too steep to ride out of. I continued riding in the ditch for about a mile until some debris blocked my way. I climbed out of the ditch and walked the next mile or so to the campsite. No one would get up then to help me go get the bike. An hour or two later, just after dawn, the local Sheriff's Deputy showed up at the camp to ask about the bike (he was actually surprised that I was in one piece). He had seen the tracks I made leaving the road and entering the forest. He drove down the dirt road just to see what else he could find. After seeing my bike in the ditch, he recognized it as belonging with our camp and came by to see if I was still alive. Took two people at the top of the ditch and two at the bottom to get the bike out. Deputy got a good laugh out of it.
 

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Last fall I was riding in the NW corner of Oregon alone. It was getting close to dusk. I hadn't seen another vehicle in about an hour on this paved country curvy road. The road was following a small river. I was hoping for a place to stop and camp for the night.
I found a wide spot off the road, with a small trail dropping down to a nice platform where I could set up my tent. The platform was off to one side of the pathway to the river. The place was big enough to park the bike there too. The river embankment was hard packed dirt.
I decided to back the bike down to the spot. I started backing the bike down off the edge. Everything was going good for the first foot or two. BUT; as soon as the front tire got on the sloop, it didn't want to stop. I had been going very slow as it was. The front tire was sliding and not stopping. I thought I was going to slide right into the river. It was only about 2 bike length behind me.
Luckily; I had left the bike running and in first gear. I gave it some gas and let the clutch out to get back up onto the flat ground 5 feet in front of me. That didn't happen. I dug a hole with that big fat tire almost to the swing-arm. I stopped sliding down the hill, but I was STUCK.
I couldn't get off the bike to go to the road to flag down some help because the kickstand would not even come close to going down. I could just barely see the road. I'm really stuck.
Well; what do you do when your're stuck?
Rock it back and forth.
But not too far back.
I got it to rockin' and when it was close to the top of the back of the hole I hammered it and shifted into motocross mode.
I dug a trench out of the hole and kept right on going. I should have stopped and took a picture, but I didn't want to even look back.

Lesson learned. DON'T DO THAT AGAIN !!!
 
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