At Gomers request. This happened back in the year 1969 when the Elsinore Grand Prix was going in full force and there were thousands of spectators lining the course, Back then we rode a variety of motorcycles. Everything from 50cc Italian bikes to 450 pound 650cc British twins. I was mounted on a 650cc Triumph twin for the race and was doing pretty good until this happened. :whoa: The racecourse at that time was ten miles long and four of it was on the street through the town of Elsinore. The big Triumph twins were a blast to ride on the street because you could back them into the turns and power slide out. The crowd loved it. The course went right past the Police station and it was fun to be able to wheelie past the cop shop. There were two long straight-a-ways where you could run over 100 mph if you were on a big twin. Made it a little sketchy when you were passing smaller bikes that were only doing about 50 mph. One of those straight-a-ways was down Lakeshore Drive. It paralled the lake and had a ninety degree left hand turn at the end. I had been coming down Lakeshore on my trusty Triumph, clicking down a couple of gears and backing it in at the end and power sliding out of the left hander. On about the third lap, I went to backshift and caught a big neutral. :yikes: The old British bikes came from the factory with several neutrals built in. You had to take them apart and weld up the neutrals and even then you still managed to find one during a race. Well, I found one at the most inopportune time. I remember freewheeling into the corner going much faster than I should have been going. The Triumph had the brake lever on the left side and the shifter on the right. The bike was so low in the corner I couldn't get my foot in the brake pedal and jamming the shifter into gear would not have been the right decision. Watching the curb coming up faster and faster I knew I had to do something. Either drop the bike on its side and hit the curb or pick the bike up just before hitting the curb, either way,, this was gonna hurt. I opted to pick the bike up rather than drill my body into the gas tank. When the bike hit the curb, it highsided me into the stratosphere. The crowd separated and moved back allowing me to land, flat on my back, right in the middle of them. I remember looking up at the blue sky and seeing all of these faces looking down at me. It completely knocked the wind out of me. While I was laying on the ground trying to catch my breath, two big guys came over and one grabbed each arm and picked me up. In the mean time, a couple other spectators picked my bike up and were pushing it back towards me. I still was coughing and gagging from not having my breath back but they didn't really care. They picked me up and set me on my bike and started to push me down the street. The bike fired off and the next thing I knew I was back in the race. Unfortunately I still had not caught my breath and it took about a half of a lap to get it back. I can remember thinking to myself, 'What the hell just happened?' :coocoo: The GP was cancelled a couple of years after that because the crowd got so big and out of control it became dangerous with people running across the race course. Malcolm Smith hit a lady crossing the course while leading the race one year. In the 90's Goat Brekker brought the classic back to the city of Elsinore and again it ran through the city streets only the street portion was shortened to less than a mile. Over the years, greed has ruined the race. The city fathers found the race to be a great source of income for the city. The Police and Fire Department also found it to be a good payer and raised their fees to the point of making the race unprofitable for the promoter. Goat backed out as promoter and the city took over. The race is now held entirely within the Elsinore MX facility. No more running down Main street. No more broadsliding corners on the street. No more wheelies past the cop shop. A mere shadow of it's former self. I guess all good things must come to an end.