The first nice day, and the motorcycle comes out. While my wife hates to ride, luckily my granddaughter loves to. Although I think she likes waving to the cars and other motorcylists best.
Picture this: Country road. No shoulder, trees on the side. 45, 50 MPH. Crest of a hill, don't know what might be coming on the other side. Dumb-ass deer walks out and stands there.
Broken collarbone, twisted handelbars, gas tank, forks, footpegs ruined. Exhaust not so bad. Like a trophy, and a constant reminder that you don't alway have a lot of time to make the best choice.
(except that ding in the exhaust chamber.. we won't mention that :>
Broken collarbone, twisted handelbars, gas tank, forks, footpegs ruined. Exhaust not so bad. Like a trophy, and a constant reminder that you don't alway have a lot of time to make the best choice.