I've kissed pavement four times. Three of those times I bruised my ego and bike, but I survived and
the bikes were repaired. The fourth time almost killed me. The year was 1980 and I was riding my
new 1979 Suzuki GS750E on a cold but clear day. My riding buddy was riding a CB550 with Vetter
fairing.
I had recently installed a Slip Stream full handlebar mounted fairing on the Suzuki. Prior to
installing the fairing, I had taken the Suzuki to little over 100mph on a few occasions, I was
young and immortal. It was a rush because the engine went in to hyper-drive at 6,000 rpm and that
came out to 100mph. It was a dumb thing to do, but I was 24 and didn't think of things like
mortality, just speed and girls.
But on this day everything would be different, after I whacked open the throttle the bike went into
a speed wobble around 90mph. I didn't know what to do so I tried to slow down, but the wobble just
got worse. Then I thought I might be able to speed up, straighten out and slow down, but that only
took the speed wobble to a higher rate of speed, the speedometer was pegged and
everything was out of control! To make the situation even worse, the road was about to take a sharp
left turn, I was running out of time. At that point I realized I was going to die, there was nothing
more I could do, so I said a prayer and asked that my death be quick and painless. I hit the brakes
and at a 115mph the bike flipped up and threw me off, spun around in the air and smacked the
pavement next to me, then it flipped up into the air once more and over the cliff it went. I
continued to roll and slide the length of two football fields, I later learned from the police
report.
It's crazy but when I finally came to a stop on the side of the road the very first thing I thought
of was, how would I going to get my bike back up the cliff and repair the damage. I'm alive and
only seconds earlier I was sure I would meet my maker and now my first thought was of the bike! My
riding buddy watched all of this to his horror and somehow got me to lay down until help arrived. A
few minutes later I went into shock, man that was painful. An ambulance soon arrived and took me to
the hospital were four people held me down while the doctor poured four bottles of hydrogen peroxide
over my wounds to clear out the rocks and glass I picked up while making love to the pavement.
It took me two months to teach myself to walk again and I still have a few minor scars, but I
stopped riding fast and learned to enjoy the back roads and country side from that day forward.
I remember this ad.
It's a great picture of the bike and reminds me of those twisty roads I rode my GS750E on back in the day.
