ÜberDoober
04-13-2008, 10:59 PM
reprinted from another forum with permission of the author, Curt Patterson
Falling Down
Few things come as naturally to humans as falling down. Actually, when you consider the human body, it is amazing that we walk upright at all. All shapes and sizes of bodies rely upon the muscles and bones of the feet and almost continual minute ajustments to stay upright. Take away those feet and we fall over. Replace those feet with two wheels and one can easily see how instances of falling down may become an epidemic. Add some horsepower and remove common sense and some of us should simply crawl for our own safety.
Years ago I bought a KZ 750 Kawasaki. Prior to that I had owned mostly dirt bikes. I had visions of being a world class moto-crosser, but I fell down frequently. I tried hill-climbing but that simply caused me to fall down and roll all the way to the bottom of the hill, so I gave that up as well.
At the time I bought the 750 my wife and I were living in north Idaho, in a rental house on the side of a hill. Living on a side hill in north Idaho is not unique because Idaho sold all it's flatland to Illinois way back when. We tried to sell the sidehills to California because we heard that their hills were sliding into their freeways but the deal fell through so we imported Californias to live on our sidehills. Several of our neighbors were Californians and they would visit from time to time. They were nice enough folks but eventually trouble ensued. My wife became unhappy with our porch and so, to keep up with the neighbors, the landlord and I were forced to build a deck on the front of the house. It looked like a porch to me, but to her and the neighbors it was a deck.
One afternoon I was doing a bit of wrenching on the bike and , after chasing a socket that rolled down the sidehill for the 412th time, I had a stroke of genius. The deck was FLAT!!!! Well, not perfectly flat, but flatter than the side hill. It was also about 4 feet off the ground at the front edge. The perfect height to park the bike there and stand on the ground to work. Pure genius!!!!
Unfortunately, when I tried to bring the bike in the back door of the house, and then out the front door onto the deck, I could not make the turn between the kitchn stove and the woodbox. Being full, the woodbox was to heavy to move. Of course I could have removed the wood but this would have littered the bedroom with wood chips and spiders and that would cause me no end of grief. As I sat astride the idling bike, half in and half out of the back door, smoking a cigarette and cyphering on the problem, the solution appeared in the bikes mirror. A 2x6. A perfectly good pine 2x6 about 8 feet long, just propping up the roof of the carport where it sagged due to last winters snow.
By this time the bike idling in the back door had attracted Barbs attention so it was time to back out and try a different approach. I putted around the house and lined the bike up with a straight shot at the deck. Back around to the carport for the board. The roof sagged a bit more as i removed it, but only Barbs car was parked beneath it, my pick-up was stuck in a mudhole back down the driveway, so I was not too concerned. Having seen more than one hapless rider eject a board with back tire while loading a dirtbike in a truck, I nailed one end of the board to the deck and positioned the other on the ground.
My frenzied activity had lured Barbara to the front door and she stepped out onto the deck as I mounted the bike. I carefully eyeballed my ramp and judged it adequate. As I fired up the bike I could have sworn I heard her mutter, " Oh god, this is a really bad idea". She often judges my genius as folly. As I dropped the bike into gear and accelerated toward the ramp the thought crossed my mind the ramp was a bit steep. It never entered my mind that the grass was wet and the KZ had street tires and not the knobbies I was familiar with from my days of falling down with dirt bikes.
My line was impeccable as the front tire rolled up the ramp, a bit more throttle and the rear tire was followng right along, me and the bike rising like some low rent Evil Knievel launching across the Snake River Canyon. The front tire was on the deck and then, the rear tire spun, just the merest fraction, but it spun. My sphinxter tightened. My left hand flexed on the clutch, and my right hand, that *******, that self destructive appendage, spasmed on the throttle and all hell broke loose. The rear of the bike slipped left, my butt slipped right to compensate, I stood on the pegs, a trials rider on a full-fairing bagger, my eyes bulged, I bit my tongue, the engine quit. The world stood still.
I fell down. Barbara turned and went back in the house, the door closed gently behind her.
Curt
Falling Down
Few things come as naturally to humans as falling down. Actually, when you consider the human body, it is amazing that we walk upright at all. All shapes and sizes of bodies rely upon the muscles and bones of the feet and almost continual minute ajustments to stay upright. Take away those feet and we fall over. Replace those feet with two wheels and one can easily see how instances of falling down may become an epidemic. Add some horsepower and remove common sense and some of us should simply crawl for our own safety.
Years ago I bought a KZ 750 Kawasaki. Prior to that I had owned mostly dirt bikes. I had visions of being a world class moto-crosser, but I fell down frequently. I tried hill-climbing but that simply caused me to fall down and roll all the way to the bottom of the hill, so I gave that up as well.
At the time I bought the 750 my wife and I were living in north Idaho, in a rental house on the side of a hill. Living on a side hill in north Idaho is not unique because Idaho sold all it's flatland to Illinois way back when. We tried to sell the sidehills to California because we heard that their hills were sliding into their freeways but the deal fell through so we imported Californias to live on our sidehills. Several of our neighbors were Californians and they would visit from time to time. They were nice enough folks but eventually trouble ensued. My wife became unhappy with our porch and so, to keep up with the neighbors, the landlord and I were forced to build a deck on the front of the house. It looked like a porch to me, but to her and the neighbors it was a deck.
One afternoon I was doing a bit of wrenching on the bike and , after chasing a socket that rolled down the sidehill for the 412th time, I had a stroke of genius. The deck was FLAT!!!! Well, not perfectly flat, but flatter than the side hill. It was also about 4 feet off the ground at the front edge. The perfect height to park the bike there and stand on the ground to work. Pure genius!!!!
Unfortunately, when I tried to bring the bike in the back door of the house, and then out the front door onto the deck, I could not make the turn between the kitchn stove and the woodbox. Being full, the woodbox was to heavy to move. Of course I could have removed the wood but this would have littered the bedroom with wood chips and spiders and that would cause me no end of grief. As I sat astride the idling bike, half in and half out of the back door, smoking a cigarette and cyphering on the problem, the solution appeared in the bikes mirror. A 2x6. A perfectly good pine 2x6 about 8 feet long, just propping up the roof of the carport where it sagged due to last winters snow.
By this time the bike idling in the back door had attracted Barbs attention so it was time to back out and try a different approach. I putted around the house and lined the bike up with a straight shot at the deck. Back around to the carport for the board. The roof sagged a bit more as i removed it, but only Barbs car was parked beneath it, my pick-up was stuck in a mudhole back down the driveway, so I was not too concerned. Having seen more than one hapless rider eject a board with back tire while loading a dirtbike in a truck, I nailed one end of the board to the deck and positioned the other on the ground.
My frenzied activity had lured Barbara to the front door and she stepped out onto the deck as I mounted the bike. I carefully eyeballed my ramp and judged it adequate. As I fired up the bike I could have sworn I heard her mutter, " Oh god, this is a really bad idea". She often judges my genius as folly. As I dropped the bike into gear and accelerated toward the ramp the thought crossed my mind the ramp was a bit steep. It never entered my mind that the grass was wet and the KZ had street tires and not the knobbies I was familiar with from my days of falling down with dirt bikes.
My line was impeccable as the front tire rolled up the ramp, a bit more throttle and the rear tire was followng right along, me and the bike rising like some low rent Evil Knievel launching across the Snake River Canyon. The front tire was on the deck and then, the rear tire spun, just the merest fraction, but it spun. My sphinxter tightened. My left hand flexed on the clutch, and my right hand, that *******, that self destructive appendage, spasmed on the throttle and all hell broke loose. The rear of the bike slipped left, my butt slipped right to compensate, I stood on the pegs, a trials rider on a full-fairing bagger, my eyes bulged, I bit my tongue, the engine quit. The world stood still.
I fell down. Barbara turned and went back in the house, the door closed gently behind her.
Curt