Kawi2strokes.com Forum

I have shared this account before, it is a little long but it is my first triple crash;

The year was 1975 and Sam, a coworker of mine wanted to come over to try out my newly acquired Kawasaki Mach III. I had recently purchased the Kawasaki from a fellow that decided it was better to unload the Kawi than end up with no driver’s license or wake up dead. When the motorcycle arrived at my house, it was a fine looking beast, six bend pullbacks, a very large luggage rack and best of all, a three foot sissy bar with luxurious black carpet backing on the backrest pad. By the time Sam got there, I had removed all of these triple chrome plated accessories and put on a more appropriate set of low rise superbike bars.

When Sam returned from his test ride he said the Mach III wouldn’t do a burn out. He then backed the three cylinder up to the service door of my unattached garage and aimed the raging missile down the narrow sidewalk leading to the back of our old story and a half. As my wife came out the back door and walked over to see what in the world was going on, I stopped the proceedings

At this point, I, being fully convinced that I was smarter than the average bear, knew why Sam could not break the back tire loose, he was simply too fat. At this time I suppose his weight was 225, I have since discovered by personal experience that 225 is not overweight! I told Sam to get off the bike and I would prove to him and anybody else that cared, the Kawi could indeed break the tire loose. “And besides, if anyone is going to run into the back of my house, it’s going to be me!” No truer words have ever been spoken. Sam somewhat reluctantly stepped off the motorcycle.

I mounted my mighty steed as Sam and my wife looked on, I settled in to the seat and grabbed a big waffle gripped handful of smoking, rattling Kawasaki two-stroke horsepower and dropped the hammer. Immediately the front wheel shot for the sky. “No problem.” I thought as I assessed the situation. And with dirt bike honed reflexes I chopped the throttle and instinctively grabbed both brakes.

When my front wheel came down I was off the narrow little sidewalk and on the grass. As I previously mentioned, I grabbed both brakes. The front double leading shoe brake did what double leading shoe brakes do best in these situations, it locked up. Immediately the bike was down, no where to be seen and I was making a low pass over my freshly manicured lawn. As my hands and knees made contact, I made a perfect four point landing and with surprising residual momentum, slid the remaining length of the back yard. I firmly smacked the top of my head against the back of our home.

There was not a dry eye in the house, but these were not tears brought on by the witnessing of a terrible accident! But tears of joy, of uncontrolled mirth! Sam and my wife were beside themselves in fits of laughter.

While I was not physically injured I was emotionally devastated. Where was the rush to see if I had survived? Where was the concern for my helmetless head? There was not even a casual inquiry if perhaps I was OK. But there was plenty of laughter and they both stopped long enough to agree that this was one of the funniest things that they had ever seen.

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Using a poorly conceived idea along with bad mechanical practice is not an upgrade but rather a recipe for disaster.

Well written and well said Joe

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This is true. Where I grew up the hills were so steep and long, when your ball rolled down the hill you just said "screw it"...

the first "crash" on a streetbike was on my first streetbike. '86 VF500 Interceptor. Funny thing is that I wasn't quite to the street yet. It was riding across my parents front lawn making my way around the parked cars to the street from the garage.

I used to shoot across the grass and jump the curb... Well, this time I went across the roots of the big oak tree at a 45 degree angle. Some of these roots were as big as small tree trunks and stuck out of the ground 6+ inches.

On this occasion the front wheel made it over fine (doing 20mph-ish?), but the rear wheel just didn't go over, it just deflected and turned the whole rear of the bike sideways and SLAMMED me on the ground so fast I didn't even know what happened..... One of those falls where you actually FEEL the "THUD" in your head/body... Like a nice Motocross crash.

Even though it was only 20MPH and in the front yard, I still count this as my first street wreck because of how violent it was and the fact I learned to be more mindful of what my tires were doing.

That was the only time I dropped my first bike. My friend on the other hand crashed it twice in one day.... Trashing everything cosmetic.

it was 1976 on a yamaha RS100 , low speed corner at a traffic light juntion and i dont know if it was ice or oil but that front tire was having none of it.it just slid away sending me A$$ over T**.
No broken bones only dented pride .
cheers joe, good subject.
cheers mark

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she will never be pretty but she is a fun ride.

73 KAWASAKI H1 (Sold).
82 YAMAHA RD350LC
2000 KAWI KDX200H
2001 Triumph TT600

My dad had a 1955 HD Topper which is a step through scooter that Harley made back in the day. While he was away at work I got it running and rode it around the neighborhood without his permission. I was 14. My mom told me I would never have a motorcycle while under her roof. Long story short, a guy chased after me while I was riding the Topper and offered $2000 for a bike my dad got for $60.... I took the check home with the Topper to discuss it with my dad. He wanted the money and I wanted a YZ80. I convinced him (or maybe it was the cash) to let me have $500 to buy the YZ....

The day finally came when the YZ was home and I was ready to ride it for the first time. It was in pretty poor shape and it took 20 kicks to start it. I went zipping out of the back yard and turned across the driveway directly over the oil spot left by the family van....down I went. A low-side to the left at about 15mph. I skinned my knee and elbow, broke the end off the clutch lever and bent the shifter all to hell.

About 2-3 hours later I was ready to try again so my dad bent the shifter back with some channel locks and I started kicking- while my mom glared at us both. It fired back up and I went zipping out of the back yard and turned across the driveway directly over the oil spot left by the family van....down I went.... again.... same spot, same fall, same lesson- I had to learn it twice.

After that I had tremendous respect for the motorcycle. I didn't pay attention and it bit me. I felt so freaking dumb and I was injured and so was the bike. It sat for a week or so while I healed up and thought about my stupidity. I believe that that first set of identical falls within just a few hours time is what has kept me safe all these years.... little bit of fear mixed with a whole lot of respect... If you don't pay attention it will bite you. Period.

Thanks for the question- I have not thought of that story in many years! The lesson is still as critical today as it was in 1981.

cheers- tim

1979 Yam xs650(750?)

I was 15, and me and my buddy "borrowed" his dads bike and immediately took some back roads that came up to a fast stretch of highway.
Slipped the front out on wet paint stripe at the entrance of the highway, hampering my impending death for another day.

And the reason I quoted this, I am 25

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'72 H2 : Blue-ish.

I am probably younger than you think. I wasn't even born yet when most on here were having there first crash . I was here for some of the Carter administration though(but just barely).

It was 1983 I hade a 75 h1
I was in the airforce stationed at edwards in Cali
I could redline first gear in the barracks parking lot before graving the brake.
One day the front wheel locked. I was shocked by how fast I hit the ground.
Then I watched the bike fly off the ramp at the end of the parking lot and punched a hole in the side cover

Best one..... was riding my Trail 70 at night with my girlfriend of the week.
Going thru a neighborhood that I rarely rode in, I notice that it looked like they had just re- paved that section of the road.
Nope.
They were in the process of laying down a layer of new asphalt by 1st putting down a mixture of sand and covering it with oil.
And somebody had never put up (or somebody removed) the "Oil On Road" signs.

Slipprier than snot on an oily door knob and the un-annouced 4 inch drop onto the oil covered surface did nothing for the stability of bike and/or cargo.
We slid about 50 feet (like we were on ice) and were stopped by the curb. Neighbors heard the ruckus and came out, took one look at us covered in oil and called the FD. Cops responded and as he came across the same drop-off, he also slid to a stop in almost the same place. I did not need to explain anything to him as we were loaded in the ambulance and my parents were called.
I spent about 4 hours in the ER getting about a gallon of the sand/oil mixture removed from everywhere it could possibly imbed in my skin. Not a pretty sight and most painful.
The Trail 70 got a new handle bar, exhaust pipe and seat, courtesy of the construction company.
Never saw the girl again, which is lucky for me. Her dad went about 225lbs @ 6'4".

great one linner.

mark

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she will never be pretty but she is a fun ride.

73 KAWASAKI H1 (Sold).
82 YAMAHA RD350LC
2000 KAWI KDX200H
2001 Triumph TT600