Funniest thing ....

one time my buddy and I had gone out to a little 4 acre plot that my parents own (it has a few small jumps and stuff). He was all showin off (on my bike) when he decides to get in 3-4th gear and stand up on the seat (no hands)... Well he lost his footing or something and fell right off the back and landed on his head, but the bike kept going. Heres the funny part (drum roll please!) I took off running and caught the bike before it fell! I caught it a good 20-30 yards from him
LMAO, he still hasn't lived that one down yet!

BTW - He was fine, just hurt his neck & ankle(and pride maybe) a little (his ankle has been broken for years so it swells on almost every crash)

one time we were riding a new area. cruising across an open place in 3rd gear. not slow but not fast either. im standing on the pegs looking back to see where the group was. as i turn around i realize there is an erosion ditch in front of me. its about three feet deep and four feet wide. there was no way i could stop in time so i gas it and try to clear it. well my front wheel dropped enough to catch the lip of the other side. it just barely caught it but it hit hard enough to throw me forward. i went so far forward that my "goods" were stradling the triple clamps and my feet were almost touching the ground by the front axle. the rear of the bike was 5 ft off the ground. i rode this little stoppie out for what seemed like forever. as the rear finally came down it came down at a right angle to the front and tried to highside me. how i stayed on the bike i dont know. there was only one witness and he couldnt believe i didnt go down. he said thats the longest he had ever watched a drainplug on a motorcycle. keep in mind that this was before the "freestyle" evolution.

you should have seen tx246's submarine ride at the dunes. ;)

One of mine would be when i just got my YZ250 rebuilt. I had never riden this bike before so i wasnt use to the hit of the motor. My friend and i were drag racing across the field playing around. I beat him to the end of the field and made the "U" in the path only to turn around and he was still behind me. So i cracked the gas to take off and the bike stood straight up dragging me behind it. I finally feel off and the bike rode off without me. Everyone came running to see what happened and i'm sitting on the ground laughing holding my rear fender. :)

I hope a q**d story is allowed.

We were riding around in an old field one day when Earl (a local guy) rides up on a ratty old Polaris 400 sportsman. This is a performance oriented q**d with a two-stroke motor and an automatic transmission.

He had just gotten the thing from his cousin or uncle or something, and the throttle was hanging up. He had converted the thumb throttle to a twist grip. We were sorta taking a break, and Earl was jacking around with his throttle cable when we all decided it was time to go.

Of course Earls' electric starter has long since ceased to function, so he pulls on the start rope. The q**d starts right up and (of course) the throttle is hung wide open. And he had left it in gear. Earl tries mightily to hold on to the rope (he was standing alongside the q**d) but ends up being dragged behind (I was somehow reminded of Billy Crystal) until he gives up and releases the rope.

There goes the q**d off in the distance. Pat; one of my buddies, had already cranked his KDX220, so he naturally dropped it in gear and took off in hot pursuit. I can now tell you that a stock KDX220 with a 200lb rider on board is absolutely no match for an unladen 400 Sportman. Despite his best efforts and amid much cheering from us, as the q**d shifted out automatically, and with 400cc of motor, Pat had absolutely no chance.

This scene unfolded in a pasture known locally as "Dove Field". It is maybe 500 acres of empty broom sedge with one lone persimmon tree in the middle. Incredibly, unbelievably, inexorably; the q**d is drawn to the only tree within 1/2 mile in any direction. Hit it dead center at an estimated 80 MPH. Hit so hard it knocked numerous limbs out of the top of the tree. Words fail to properly describe the impact. It really looked like a bomb went off, as the q**d actually exploded. :eek: Big pieces rained down for what seemed like minutes. The headlight was found a measured 230 feet away. The engine was actually torn from the frame.

Earl was not happy. :flame: Perhaps his frustration was deepened by the cheering (screaming, really :laugh: ) from all of us and the sort of celebration that followed. Finally one of us took pity on poor Earl and let him use a cell phone to call his dad, who showed up a few minutes later with a pickup truck. We had calmed down a little by that time and helped Earl and his dad pick up the many, many pieces of dead q**d that was scattered over an unbelievably large area.

sportsmna 400 doin 80 now thats sumthin i would like to see the sportsman is a utility quad

Originally posted by JUSTRIDE415
sportsmna 400 doin 80 now thats sumthin i would like to see the sportsman is a utility quad

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So how fast do you figger a KDX220 will go? :p

I believe he is talking about the Scrambler. They both start with S's and probably just got them confused. No need to flame him. Mighty good story though. I'm still laughing.

There's been so many I hardly know where to but there is one that sticks out from my younger days. I was 14 years old riding a 250 Husky WR. I was probably the only rider under 30 in a group of about 10 guys.
We were riding in Newago, Mi and it was early spring. A friend of our family had a cabin on Bigelow Creek. We had a loop we rode where we crossed the creek a few miles from John's cabin and then ended the loop be crossing the creek near his cabin. Well when we got to the second creek crossing it was a lot higher than normal, the water was about 3-4 feet deep at the bank on our side of the creek. I was sure it wouldn't be a problem I was proud to point out all you have to do is get up a little speed and pick up the front wheel right before lift off and you would jump over the deepest part of the creek with no problem. To add to this I quickly showed everyone it was possible by doing just what I said. After which I crossed the creek farther down so I could ag on all the rest of the guys. So I got off my bike and watched and laughed as each rider took his turn crossing the creek, I even helped some of the guys who got stuck. When the last rider crossed I was on still on the oppisite side and announced to the crowd NOW WATCH AGAIN AND I'LL SHOW YOU HOW IT IS SUPPOSE TO BE DONE!!! The problem was I had a Husky with a tinkle carberator, and if you didn't shut the gas off when you stopped it would often flood and be hard to start, so I religously shut off the gas everytime I shut off the bike. YEP you can see where this is going. I fired up the Husky and went deep into the woods to give myself a good running start and about 15 feet from the bank of the creek I realized I forgot to turn the gas on, I only realized it because the bike started die at the crucial moment where I needed to lift the front wheel. Well I hit the creek about half way across on the front wheel, the front wheel stuck in the soft sandy bottom and I did a pefect hand stand on the handle bars. As the rear wheel came down, my balls slapped the ball breaking tank,(so of you might remember these) and the bike was heading for about a five foot deep whole in the creek. I managed to get the bike stopped before I hit the whole only to notice a bank full of my peers laughing untill they cried, not one of them my father included jumping in the water to give my a hand. This was a event I never lived down and till this day every now and then some old geiser will bring it up.( Thanks Dad)
I had many happenings at this creek crossing, and watched many others do simular and ever worse crossings, not to mention my dad and his buddies used to thow me in this same creek regardless of weather when ever they thought I got out of line, or was holding my head too high. I loved it, I was like a dog that just kept coming back for more regardless of how hard the beat on me. The abuse I learned to take (and give) has helped my though out my life.

The funniest thing I ever saw I never actually saw . . . :think:

Early spring on the Palouse Range. We'd gone through several little snow patches, and here in front of us was a pretty lengthy one. Since I was the only guy with a 4-stroke, I decided to putt-and-chug a trail throught it. Well, evidently I wasn't doing it fast enough. All the sudden, I see a YZ250 flying through the air by me, without a rider, upside-down!

Seems my cousin figured he could wheelie across it, so he got a run at it, pulled up, hit the snow, and his bike stuck, pitched him, then went flying!

ah, good times . . .

Originally posted by 01HondaCR
I believe he is talking about the Scrambler. They both start with S's and probably just got them confused. No need to flame him. Mighty good story though. I'm still laughing.

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Late 90's Sportsmans (Sportsmen?) had a 400cc water-cooled two-stroke engine that would haul bootie!!! Earl's had an Aaen pipe and some other crap, but the largest performance enhancement seemed to be the total lack of a rider. :yeehaw:
This former machine was a four-wheel drive POS; but if would sho-nuff fly.

The one that stands out for me was trying to get back to the trucks as a thunder storm was rolling in so we wouldn't get wet.  I had a 92 kdx200 at the time and we were riding near the local resevoir when it started to rain.  I was in the back trying to keep up with a cr250, and a kx250 which were wide open (notice I said trying).  I was almost back to the truck when I came around a turn and hit a puddle about 50 feet across.  As I exited the puddle, there was a small jump that I didn't see through the rain drops on my goggles.  I landed about 15 feet past the jump in another puddle about 2 feet deep.  Of course I landed front tire first, and it threw me over the bars, sliding head first and face down across the water.  I finally came to a stop, and felt the bike land across my back.  Now I was pinned under the water with a 200lb bike laying across my back, fortunatley able to lift my head out of the water.  My friends had slowwed down ahead and were watching to make sure I was still behind, so they saw the whole thing and came back to get the bike off me as soon as they stopped laughing.  So much for beating the rain and saying dry.

If anyone has ever ridden around Charlottesburg and Splitrock resvoirs, I'm sure you know where the exact spot I am talking about, but that was back when they allowed riding in the area....don't get caught there now.

Great stories! I'm still laughing at the quad....

Anyway, I was riding at White Rock (Arkansas) about three years ago. I had a '97 WR250 (when they were still 2 strokes) and was several miles into one of the unmarked trails, when lo and behold, my shift lever stripped out. Well, I took out my tusty vice grips, shifted the bike into third and continued on my way (pretty sure that it had to be quicker to continue on the trail, vice turning around and riding back the way I came). Well, minutes later I found myself on a fire road, heading off one of the mountains. As I'm flying down this hill (3rd gear) I keep encountering these rain ruts that have developed every 50 feet or so that run almost perpendicular across the road and are between 6 and 12 inches high. I'm having a blast jumping these (getting good air too because I'm going down a pretty steep mountain). Well, I see one coming ahead and notice leaves have collected at the base of this one, but no problem I'll jump it anyway. What I failed to notice was that the leaves had collected in a hole at the base of this rut and were preventing me from seeing the 12 inch vertical face on this rut. As I got closer, I chickened out and decided to blip the throttle in order to raise the front wheel over the rut instead of jumping it. My rpm's werent high enough to get the front wheel up and so I hit this hole front wheel first. Naturally, momentum, physics, Murphy's Law, the tooth fairy, whatever, proceeded to carry my body over the bars flinging me into a superman pose that would make Clark Kent and the Metal Mulisha envious. I noticed during my flight that I was a little "nose low" and would, in the very near future, land on my face first, so like any daredevil with nerves like steel, I closed my eyes. Yes, I landed on my face and slid several feet face in the gravel with feet (Alpinestar laden = heavy) perched precariously over my shoulders (ya know how momentum is) in a near forward somersault --- except my chin and neck wouldn't let my body roll. After what seemed like days, my body finally came to a rest leaving me flat on my back laying perpindicular to the road (like one of the ruts I had so joyously jumped seconds before) looking up the hill (remember, my eyes are still closed). Curiousity overcame my pain; so I opened my eyes to discover the fate of my now riderless motorcycle ---- just in time to see that it had not crashed and, in fact, it was still cruising along, without me onboard, almost as though it were trying to exact revenge on me for leaving it so abruptly, with snarling teeth and a loud roar, ........................it ran my head over. It came at me with it's two month old Dunlops and hit me right in the goggles, between the face shield and the sun visor, it hit me in the goggles with both tires and crashed shortly after. I wasn't injured. In fact, I layed there for a few minutes giggling hysterically almost frighteningly, contemplating the idea of having to remount that beast after the violence it inflicted upon me. But, as they say, the rest is history.

I got one more;

The year was 1983; I was riding a brand new XR350. My buddy Nolan Husser was accompanying me on a practice lap around a hare scrambles course at Seven Hills, Chipola, Louisiana.

I got squirrely on some roots and tipped over, I ended kind of sitting down, with the XR laying in my lap, the bars away from me.

Nolan rode right up and asked as to my well-being. Of course I was completely uninjured, but was having a little difficulty getting out from under the bike.

We looked at each other for a while, I was waiting for Nolan to dismount and come to my rescue.

As it became apparent that Nolan wasn't coming to my aid, I angrily lay back down on the ground (from my sitting position) so I could kick my way out from under the XR. Just as I was laying back, Nolan dropped his clutch to ride by (I think he needed a tree to lean his bike against). The timing was impeccable, and Nolan ran right over my head. Both tires. Bump. Bump.

S.O.B.!!! :flame: S.O.B.!!! :flame: "You S.O.B. Nolan you better get over here and get this bike off me so I can kick your a**."

Somewhat surprisingly Nolan now seemed in no hurry to pick up the bike (I couldn't have done much with Nolan "Animal" Husser anyway), but by the time I got out from under my bike, I was laughing too hard anyway.

I've been waiting twenty years for the payback, and have not collected yet, but then, I still have plenty of time.

Seems to me like that would hurt... Maybe I'm just crazy.

I would like to add, that sure is a fit ending for a quad.