One bright,sunny day,Steve says;"hey,kid,lets put some crash bars on your bike,up front.". Some guys call them "highway bars". A lot of guys call them "trainer bars". I was in the latter group. I put up a little fuss,but if you have read "A Challenge",then you know it was just a "little fuss". So,the bars went on,no matter what I said about it. Looking back,my uncle was just trying to save me from a lot of pain...as you'll soon see.
OK,so I endure LOTS of ribbing from the guys in the "club",and I mean LOTS. Some of them even offer to put some small wheels on my "crash bars" for me....haha. Oh,yeah,this was going great! Even on weekend runs,all of the guys would spread out,so "there was room for my training bars". This was getting out of hand,and quickly!
OK,so one day I go to see my girl,and decide to take the highway.It was a nice summer day,kind of hot. I started not to wear my "leathers" that day,but quickly decided against that. If you go down on the road,your leathers are the only thing between your skin,and hot pavement at 60 miles per hour. Nice cruising weather,and I was listening to the throbbing of the big V-Twin between my legs.I could hear the tires singing their song of freedom on the roadway. Everything on the planet was in tune with me...except the old lady in the Ford LTD quickly gaining on my back fender!
Nothing wakes you up like getting nailed from behind by a large car at 60 mph!!! My bike went down instantly! My uncle not only installed those bars on my bike,he also told me how to ride out a crash! When the bike FINALLY stopped sliding,I took stock of myself---all there. Next,the bike---some serious "road rash",but,basically,still driveable. The old lady? Never stopped! I never hated those bars ever again!
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