Last Updated: Friday, February 27, 2009
Pictures from Amanda
Phil B’s FXR needed some help getting back to the Island
Amanda & Len – Loading the trailer
Amanda’s friend getting a ride back to the island.
DP & Readbeard
Len & Banker Randy
Curly
Amanda & Dirty Harry - Dirty Harry & VTown
Slowhand - Indy
Greg Engle
Bikes
Len cleaning Phil B’s bike - Phil B looking for oil leak
Tents
READBEARD’S PICTURES
Phil B & Len
Curly’s Band
The Ride home:
Also Posted to RMH...
“So there I was”
minding my own business. I was taking pictures of
flora and fauna and the
beautiful trees and scenery by the side of the road; said road being Route
50 in Nevada... just east of Fallon as a matter of fact.
To my surprise a Suburban type vehicle pulls up next to my bike and a young
buff 'Sheriff' steps outa the truck. Now, I know my bike is off the road
enough so as not to impede 'traffic' on this busy highway... so I'm
wondering 'what the fuck?'. I'm only wondering that btw,,, not out
loud...
I'm not stupid.
So anyway this Sheriff steps up to me and sez, "How would you like a
'Special Sheriff Pass' to go down the road as fast as you want for,,,, oh,,,
let's say 77 miles?
WOOD EYE? No, I didn't really say that... that's another joke.
So I tell him, "Yes, Sir". There's probably nothing I'd like
better out
here on this 'fine' day. "But what's the catch?", I axes.
"Well, Reverend"; says he,,, "The honor doesn't come
cheap". I could let
you have this "Special Pass" for $210.
Two Hundred and Ten Dollars! What a deal. Think about it
people. How many
times have you gotten to go WOT for 77 miles? People pay twice that to go
round and round on a closed track and never really get down the road!
I took him up on his offer.
The top speed for my '02RK without a headwind is 110. Or so it says on
the
'Special Sheriff Pass'.
I wuz in the sun a lot over the past couple of weeks so the order of the
occurrences may not be exactly as they happened.
That's my story and I'm stickin' to it.
The real truth… nobody on the road, ‘cept me… or so I thought
Let’s see what a bone stock FLHRI can do
110+… straight, flat, no headwind
Officer: “Do you know how fast you were going?”
Asshole™: “Yes sir, as fast as it can go”.
Officer: “Do you know in the state of Nevada 100+ is mandatory jail time?”
Asshole™: “No sir”.
Officer: “I’m going to give you a ticket for 100mph… no jail time”.
Asshole™: “Thank you sir, may I have another one?”
Officer: “WHAT? You want ANOTHER ONE?”’
Asshole™: “Picture, sir”.
=======================================================
RE axed:
> So, the rest of the story, huh???
> How'd he sneak up on ya? (And what about yer ridin' bud?)
That's the 'funny' part about this. (and to answer a few other questions not
particularly for RE here)... I was running (W)ide (O)pen (T)hrottle on my
2002 FLHRI (completely stock,,, no nothing extra... you can't even hear it
running) from outside of Fallon going east. I would get it up to just
about
115 down hill and it would slow to about 100 uphill (remember these are long
inclines rather than hills).
Since I did this for about 77 miles (really) The Banker (doing about 90) was
behind me a few miles. Here's the catch. I passed a truck that had
a
couple of men in it and as I went by I noticed it had some kind official
emblem on it and some wording about poachers. I think they called ahead
because the Sheriff that caught me was coming at me. After I got the Free
Pass, the Sheriff went back to a parking area on the side of the road that
was only about a mile from where he ticketed me. There was also a State
Trooper there. I never did ask, but as I went by his parking area I
figured
that's what happened. It coulda been a plane too, but I didn't see any
anywhere.
The Banker did catch up to where I was... and snuck in a picture... gotta
love someone who takes advantage of other people's misfortunes for their own
amusement... sorta like when *he* ran out of gas and I laughed myself
silly. Butt that's another story. :-)
=======================================================
I had decided that cruising about 90-95 was a fine enough
speed to
enjoy the scenery. There were a few dozen or so miles where I brought
it up to a 100 but felt better a little slower.
Coming up to a crest a pickup flashed its lights at me. Coming down
the hill I could see official lights a couple miles ahead.
I started snickering <snerk>.
After the nice officer was done with Len he asked me how my bike was
running. "My bike's running just fine, thank you. It doesn't
go a hair
over 70 miles per hour."
Sez he, "70!. Hell, I'll give anyone 80 on this road and only flash
my
lights on up to 85."
The Banker #97
=======================================================
>Ironhorse asked:
> So Bob where is the picture?
Well ya see, it's like this. I didn't bring a camera with me. Len
and
I had a deal. I'd bring the map, he'd bring the camera. (And that's
another story for Len to tell.)
But I knew he had a camera in his windshield bag. So when his back was
turned I reached into the bag, pulled out the camera, and snapped a pic
of his bike, him, and the nice officer.
I guess that means the pic is in Len's possession.
The Banker #97
=======================================================
>Then RE sed:
Damn that's interesting to know. I've *never* gotten
shit that good
outta 'em. Thanks! And of course if the rules change, you'll make
it
good. I knew you would.
So Len paid $120 for 25 mph. Heh. But he *has* certified the top
speed for his sled, which is more than I've done.
=======================================================
No, that was $210 for 30 over….
Len