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So I searched the forum trying to find this story so I could just copy/paste it somewhere else but I guess I never posted it. So for the sake of Nostalgia I'll post it up now...
About 6 months ago or so now, my buddy Nick (ff36buell) and I were out riding around the North Shore, hitting our usual roads. The skies darkened and finally opened up so we started working our way back home since it started comin down pretty good.
Well, coming down Salem Rd. (between rte 35 and rte 1 at the top of the hill by the Topsfield Fairgrounds) we come around a corner & see a guy wearing shorts, t-shirt & a helmet standing on the side of the road.... next thing I see is a bike lying on its side at the end of a driveway. We both get on the binders & pull right over.
At first I thought he just dropped it pulling into the driveway, but the first thing he tells us (after thanking us for pulling over) is that he got sideways, almost swapped ends a couple times & dumped it comin down the road. How this guy wasn't hurt I have no idea, but he was absolutely unscathed as far as I could tell. Nick (EMT/Firefighter) checked him over as well & the guy was basically fine other than a bit of a fried/flustered brain (from the all the "excitement" of crashing).
Once I was certain he was ok I start walkin over to the bike... older R6, polished or chrome frame & swingarm, full shit exhaust, upper "fairing" & headlight off a dirtbike, etc etc..... oh yeah... and fucking SLICKS (with grooves that looked like they were carved with a razor blade)
So I ask the kid if he rides on the track & he's like "well... yeah... uh, yeah". At that point I continue talking with him about track stuff etc, trying to kill time & let this guy calm down a bit before he goes on his merry way. Eventually I get it out of him that he HASN'T been on the track at all (which I figured already). In fact he's a BRAND new rider, JUST bought the bike off a "friend of a friend", paid too much (can't remember exactly what he paid), hasn't taken MSF yet (don't even know if he was legal or not) and was riding in the rain, on slicks, on his way to a party in a town about 1/2 an hour away.
Anyway, without much work I convince the kid it's probably better if he turns around, goes home & parks the bike until the weather clears up. I give him a couple pointers for riding in the rain, emphasize the fact that his tires are fucking useless & to take it easy & let him go on his way.
He throws a leg over, fires it up & RIPS away from Nick & I... we look at each other, shake our heads & decide it's best to try & follow him.
About a mile down the road we catch up to him... that wasn't hard to do since he was in the dirt on the side of the road trying to pick his bike up off the ground again.
So we stop, I jump off & help him lift his bike up... again.
He said he pulled over to the side of the road to calm down & dropped it... I believe him... no skid marks in the dirt or anything, I'm sure he just lost his footing in the loose gravel.
We hang out there for a good 5-10 minutes trying to settle him down but the kid's still acting all flustered so I ask Nick if he's hungry (knowing full well he is... the kid is a fucking empty pit, eats 24/7), he says "yes" and I turn to the kid & say "Hey, there's a sub shop not even 1/2 a mile down the road, lets stop in, grab a bite & clear our heads. It'll be a much safer ride home".... he declines. So I tell tell him that Nick & I would at least ride WITH him back to his place to make sure he stayed safe. He said OK.
So we get back on, I'm in front, Meatball in the middle, Nick behind him. We head into the center of Topsfield and at the Library I look behind me & the kid is fucking GONE.... I look at Nick, he points to the right (towards rte 1) and I shake my head. I continue in the direction I was heading, get to Rte 1 in a different spot & pull into a gas station.... I look up Rte 1 and there the fuckin kid is, right there at the stop light.
Light turns green, he pulls in & in true meatball fashion says "How'd you guys find me????"
uh... dude... we know where you're fucking going, we kinda discussed it earlier.
So we get gas, he says he won't ditch us again, blah blah blah....
Well as we're going up Rte1 towards Newbury port I see the kid drop way back & the next thing I know he's practically next to me. Then he drops back & ZIPS back up at WOT, gets on the binders & ends up almost right next to me again. (Mind you, it's STILL RAINING) I look back, point at him & point to a spot 30 feet away from my rear tire as if to say "YOU... THERE"... he gets the point & rides in that spot...... for 1/2 a fucking mile until he's back to pulling his fucking games again.
Whatever, didn't matter much cuz 5 minutes later I look in my rearview & all I see is Nick... The fuckin meatball decided to ditch us again. We pull over, swear at him, turn around & head back to my parents place.
So yeah, that's my story about a fucking meatball who dumped it twice, made me help pick it up, then ride in the pouring rain 1/2 way to Newburyport for no fucking reason 6 months ago.
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Originally Posted by 5TOEZ
wow thanks for that
