Feel free to ask any motorcycle related question, no matter how trivial or dumb you might think it is. The point of these posts is to ask and answer questions you wouldn't want to make a separate post for.
Hopefully with the help of all the riders no question will go unanswered. Everyone is encouraged to contribute with either questions or answers and hopefully we will be able to rid of motorcycle ignorance once and for all.
Please remember to be courteous as we want to encourage people to ask questions, no matter how 'dumb' some may think they are.
Another great place to try is /r/SuggestAMotorcycle.
As always please remember to read the FAQ. Who knows - if your question is deemed to be helpful it may be added to the FAQ (which you should read)!
This thread will be refreshed each Monday.
Had my first crash today where it was all my fault, and it sucks. I've had some incidents before, but they were either other drivers or wildlife-related. While I did learn from those, there wasn't a whole lot I could've done to prevent what happened. Not so this time.
I was going through an intersection at about 20, maybe a bit faster. This is a wide, wide intersection so 20 isn't such a tall order. Unfortunately I'm not really sure what in the intersection caused the crash (couldn't get a good look at the area, really busy street), and nothing was immediately apparent. I'm guessing some oil or other slick liquid. But the back end slips out, the bike lowsides and we both star sliding along the blacktop. I'm only on the ground for a couple seconds, and by the time I'm up I see my bike slam into the curb, oil pan leading the charge. It was like watching a Mortal Kombat fatality. Oil everywhere. The bike bounces off the curb and comes to rest in a quickly forming pool of its fully synthetic lifeblood (which I just changed, still smelled brand new). I run over and pick it up and get it out of the street. HUGE fuckoff hole in the pan. Like it emptied itself out in less than a minutes. Crankcase is ground down pretty good despite frame and spool sliders. In fact, my swingarm slider bolt just snapped in half and sent my spool flying off into what I assume is the Shadow Realm, cause I couldn't find it. Much more miscellaneous damage, and maybe some that's not yet apparent.
The second part that I don't understand was that no one in this busy intersection even stopped to see if I was okay or if I needed help, including two other motorcyclists. If I was riding like a dick I could understand, but I had been minding my manners just fine. Thanks to the cool bro in the white Honda that checked up on me while I was checking out the damage about 10 minutes after the crash. If you're on here I'll buy you a beer sometime.
Luckily I was close to home, so I start the long and shameful push. It gave me some time to call insurance, tell the cops theres a bigass oil spill someone should probably clean, and kick myself for another dumb accident.
I know these posts are a dime a dozen every day on here, but I just needed to vent. I got this bike under 2 months ago and I was really falling in love with it. It's the nicest vehicle I've ever owned, and now it's probably totaled. RIP Striple. Thank God for insurance. /rant over
As I rode from Houston to Louisiana, I wasn’t expecting to have very much fun. I’m here for a funeral after all. The service was this morning. Followed by our family gathering the rest of the day. I decided to head out around 11:00PM. Didn’t want to be too tired if I decided to leave back to Houston tomorrow.
Then I noticed the bike on the side of the road. Rider hunched over with pack bags and fairings splayed all over the floor like a surgical operation. I dismounted and asked my fellow rider what was troubling him. Simple. A battery. Not to worry though. He already had a friend coming from a town ~30 minutes away with a replacement. I offered to stay with him and keep him company while he waited. He happily accepted and then asked if I would be willing to grab a drink for him.
I rushed off to the nearest gas station to grab something. Took a little longer than expected to find a station that was open this late in small town Louisiana. By the time I returned, our battery toting buddy had arrived.
We took our time pulling the old battery out, diagnosing what could have caused the failure, and installing the new one. All the while cracking jokes. They spoke freely about other personal things never once treating me like I was intruding. I didn’t even get a “Thanks for your help. We got it from here” command. Which is what any Ducati sporting city boy would expect to get from two patched Harley riders.
Instead, as we buttoned the bike back up and put all our tools away, I was offered an invitation to the clubhouse. Wow! I couldn’t believe it. The only knowledge I had of any MC was the horrible shootout in Waco, TX. I wasn’t sure if this would be a good idea, but I excitedly accepted the invitation and we rode out.
We stopped at Waffle House and a gas station before heading to the clubhouse. At a certain point I realized that I had actually stopped to help the National President of this MC. His title patched onto the front of his vest. Pretty awesome, but I was oblivious to how big a deal this truly was.
When we got to the clubhouse around 1:00am, there was spots reserved for us at the front doorstep. Amongst a sea of choppers, my bike stuck out like a sore thumb. I began second guessing my choice. We all know how serious the rivalry can get between old and new age riding. I prepared for the worst.
The President then began to walk me around and introduced me to the local chapter. At first I felt a little uncomfortable, but then I became more confident with the scene and started hanging out with the other club members. Those who had heard were over the moon with thanks that I had helped the National President. The local President offered me a bunk to stay in, food, beers, and anything else I might need. It was then that I felt the true biker brotherhood.
We are all united by our love of riding. Our drive for that which is unexplainable with words. Only with actions and feelings is it truly understood. A bond unlike any other. Through all walks of life and across many generations. The only word that comes to mind is Love.
Love drives us to stop for other bikers pulled off on the side of the road. Love sends us searching for helmets in a crowded place when another bike is parked outside. Love pairs is up with strangers on our daily rides. Love helps us to sets aside our differences and prejudice. Love leads us to accept and welcome.
https://i.imgur.com/F4BXZNs.jpg
Stock clutch, cylinder and head and only on the third rear tyre. Still runs beautifully and I'll probably hit 40K next year.
I'm a Volunteer Firefighter. I've seen the aftermath of some bad crashes. Cars and bikes.
Never witnessed anything like what I saw today and I'm sick over it. I cant get the images out of my head of that car pulling out and hitting the bike. Bodies sliding to the side of the road. Bike wrecked near them. It was a couple together out for a ride. Older gentleman and woman. Beautiful day to cruise.
The man was beat up pretty badly. Jean's all ripped up. Bloody all over. The woman got it much worse. Spaghetti is how I'd describe her legs. Definitely some kind of back/neck injuries. She wasn't moving. Paramedics had to revive her. She was airlifted out. No idea if she will survive. The whole thing is scary as fuck. The violence of the crash makes it hard to think straight. Not many things affect me when it comes to seeing them on the internet. Seeing that in real life is affecting me big time right now.
Point of this story is really to hope and pray for her survival and recovery. Also just to warn everyone out there. It takes one person not paying attention to ruin your life.
Stay safe everyone.
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