Wild Motorcycle Tales Here's a great story from joe2wheels. Got your own story? Send it to me. Acid Rain To me, riding a motorcycle is mile for mile, moment by moment, one of the most enjoyable ways to spend time. There is however, one incident that sticks in my memory as being just downright disgusting. My brother-in-law, Bob, has been riding BMWs for years and enjoys going to a rally held at Shiloh, TN in October. I rode with him for this event in 1996. Part of the route going to Shiloh, was a congested, 2-lane stretch of Highway 45 somewhere south of Columbus, MS. The terrain was hilly and we were following a long line of slow moving traffic. Once in a while you could top a hill and see the problem off in the distance. It was an old farm truck that was moving at about the same speed that paint dries. Occasionally a vehicle was able to pass him and the line would move up a bit. As time went by and I moved up to within 3-4 cars behind the old truck, I could feel it starting to rain. I thought this was odd because it was a beautiful day with clear blue skies, yet I was riding in this light mist and droplets of moisture were hitting me in the face. I should mention here that most of my riding for the past 15 years has been on Harleys, and there was about a 10 year period that I wouldn't even think about riding with a full face helmet or a windshield. I was really into that form over function concept. Finally, a window of opportunity, a short flat section of road with no on-coming traffic. I siezed the moment and accelerated hard. I glanced over at the truck as I sped around. It was an old ragged flatbed with high wooden slat sides, and he was hauling a load of pigs. SOB, now I know where all that rain was coming from. As soon as we got into the next town, I pulled into the first drug store I could find to buy Listerine and eye wash. I know it had to be mostly in my mind, but I thought I never would get that taste out of my mouth. -- joe2wheels
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© 2008 Walter F. Kern. All rights reserved.
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