doublegunshop.com - home Forums General Discussion DoubleGun BBS @ doublegunshop.com Canada Jim…

You are on the hockey and motorcycle thread.

Maybe you should start a new thread ‘aboot Audis and Purdeys, and fever dreams ‘aboot same.

Dude, pay attention.

Best,
Ted

https://suzukicycles.com/sportbike/2025/gsx-r1000r


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Little early to be into the jug, no?

Looking at that Isle of Man footage reminds me that there are aspects of being 25 I’m glad to have left behind. I made it out alive and for that I’m grateful

+1

As for the benefits of dying a few decades earlier than need be with your boots on, I would prefer going out like the former president of our Vintager's chapter Bob Nikkel, active and healthy into his mid 80's, went to bed after diner with his wife with plans for the following day and never woke up. Seems like the perfect ending to me, not that we get to decide those things but the choices made along the way certainly influence your odds.

Bob Price was not 25.

He was 65 years old, owned a successful auto repair business, and, at the time of his death, in 2014, had been racing on the Isle of Man since 1992. Nobody just shows up to race in the SuperSport or Superbike class at Isle of Man, if you are on the circuit on a bike when the streets are closed for the race, you are literally somebody who has a history of success in that class. If you watch the film, you can come to understand just how much power these machines make, you are never more than a 1/4 twist of the throttle from having the front wheel in the air, and the front brake can easily generate enough force to cause the back end of the bike to lose contact with the road. In either case, you are technically out of control. The riders are out of control, often.

He knew what he was doing, had been doing it a long time, and clearly loved the sport. I doubt he felt a thing during the crash, the coroner said he died of blunt force trauma and a broken neck.

Beats the hell out of 15 bedridden years in a skilled nursing facility.

Best,
Ted

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I’m less concerned with dying than I am with dying with my boots on.

Truth is, most of my self-inflicted injuries and accidents happened after I was "old enough to know better". The last was as recently as 2020, when I was 69.

I have figured out that an addiction to adrenaline rushes, combined with poor decisions, have led to my near demise numerous times.

My hobbies include going to places that an ambulance can't get to, then doing things that will require an ambulance.

My only boast is that I've never done the same stupid thing twice that sent me to the ER . . . . . . . . yet.

That’s cute. You believe you could have made the choice to participate in TT on the Isle of Man.

Best,
Ted

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No fugu for you.

So, (not that it matters) I had my stint with racing. SCCA pro Rally from 1981-1986.
And snowmobiles all the way through the 70’s.
Saw plenty of good men die.
It’s not romantic. It’s just dead.

Even stranger, while I was in Finland, my host and I were talking about the Finnish rally scene, and he said Marcus Gronholm was a neighbor. And then tells me how Timo Rautianen (sp) was co driving for Marcus in Turkey, and a piece of re-bar came up through the floor of the car (at 100kph) and pierced Timo in the anus by several inches!

How I loved rally back then. But a crash and a new wife ended all that.
How’s that for ot?

Ah yes. The infamous pontoon boat slide affair.


That back flip off the roof onto the slide probably wasn’t the wisest decision. Should have just sat down and had someone nudge you with your cane.


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Don’t ever get on the ice with me, Stan. It won’t end well. (back on topic. Happy now, Ted?)

Speed and power are very infectious things.

There is something all-too vital about having control over that sort of energy. It's especially dangerous for younger men (& perhaps some manly women now too). I've always heard (& agreed) that the key was surviving thru to your middle 30s (Stanton, of course, wrecks that theory). I still get a "kick" out of my old big-block muscle car and occasionally accelerate it rather vigorously (i.e. hard pulls thru the gears [& with some tire smoke occasionally]) but I don't push it anywhere near the way I did in my earlier years. I love the sounds and smells (and the g-forces) and it bring back some wonderful memories of a very different time but...that is it. There are, thankfully, many other components of my life that are far more fulfilling now.

I'm well aware of my own mortality and I'd like to stick around for a while longer and see how this all plays out. If that means slowing down a little bit to do so, oh well.

I’ve had more introductions to paved surfaces while riding bikes than I’d care to admit. My attitude of “how do you know what the limit is until you exceed it?” often didn’t end well. I used to keep a helmet and riding jacket with the right sides substantially ground off. I decided that was too morbid and tossed them.
Those days are long gone.

Momento Mori.