What's the worst that could happen???
 

I'm sure there's plenty of you out there that have 'been there - done that' but what is the worst thing that has happened to you? Give us your best (worst) horror story.

A bit of humour would be good too - there's always a silver lining to every cloud........

.....isn't there???

Tom

the worst thing that might happen (ofcourse excluding accidents and injuries) would be in my case is breaking the bike engine and return home by plane. hope no one return home by plane in the middle of the journey.

Explaining to your friends and relatives, who have been fanatically following your grand adventure via the web, that its over because you met a chica. Love story endings are great, but not in the middle of the action scene!

my worst night ever
 

hi !

this is maybe not the worst thing that could happen to you , but here the worst that has happen to me(my first language is french, so I difficult to me to make you feel what I live this night but I think I can give you a good idea of what happen), (sorry for my mistake)

June 3rd , 2006, somewhere in Alaska 100 miles from anybody (okay, it's a bit exageration, in fact it's more 10-15 miles but that doesn't change anything).(It was a solo trip , so I was alone),

I couldn't find anywhere to sleep, It's getting late and a was tired. sudenly a saw a truck stopped on the side of the road and a guy doing a fire, (remember It was late, so I tought it was passing the night on the side of the road), I ask him if it was legal do sleep on the side of the road... he answer : "oh yeah ! but be careul there is a lot of grizzlys around here", I this big trucker man ,deep voice , full of tatoo, has not sacred me I would have asking to put my tent next to his truck, but I prefer to continu further "about 10-15 miles !!! " to fin something. Than I was so tired and I was thinking .. pfffff Grizzlys .. I was since a more than entire week in there supposed to be ''"Higly pupolated bear area"" and I've never seen a grizzly. So I set up my tent on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. I put my food on a tree 100 feet from my tent, and I go to bed.

At around 3 am , I a big noise wake me up. lot of craking from a tree and branches in the direction of my food.....the stress was rasing minute after minute, what can I do ... all what a have it was a kind of "anti-bear spray", cayennepaper, very spicy, like the police use on people but 3 time more concentrate for bears...you know what I mean,... Maybe 10 to 15 incledibly long minute after, I eard a very deep long breath few inches of my tent,"and no I wasn't the trucker", thant an other one , ahhhhhhh, at this moment, crouching in my very tiny tent , I try to put of the kind of safety pin on the bottle , but I couldn't remember how (probably the stress make my mouvement a bit less precise and shaking), but the fact is that I touch the "release botton"of the bottle in my tent , the higly pressure liquid-gaz spread anywhere includind inside my nose and my eye......!!! Oh hey ! good job FranK ! this give you around 10 to 15 (I think I like those numbers, in fact is less than that) to go out of your non brethable space (the tent) with your %$/"!** anti-bear spray, a quater of galon of water, and look behind you while your running to see if a grizzly is not charging you before you became copletely blind and suffocate from this very VERY irritating product, I was is Im going to die from an hyper-allergic reaction,

I was something like 1 or 2 hours alone in the middle of a road ''where nobody pass" scaried to put water in my face , I tought the water activate the product because, the most burning part of my face was my lips, my eye and nose, It was a cold night,probably around freezing temperature, and a have to put of my clothe who recive anti-bear spray, so my body was freezing, and my face and hand was burning ...so funny your should try...so after all this ...almost 2 long VERY LONG hours, my vision became to be good enough to read the warning on the bottle who says "wash your body with a lot of water " , and all what I have is a quater of a galon ...but wow , I felt a bit better , and could finaly saw the "/**%$*moose who still on the side of my tent !!! I can tell you the next days I was paying an hotel, no matter what the price was.

that was "my 2 cents"

FranK

Nice story Frank - had me in stitches!

you asked
 

Waiting a life time to finally take that first big adventure. We planned for 18 months to travel from our home in Canada to Panama, me and four friends. We all arrange to take five weeks away from our loved ones and our work to make the trip. Due to leaving in January we make arrangements to drive the bikes down to Phoenix in November and then fly down and pick them up January to do the trip.

I spent the better part of a year working out, loosing weight, going to Bikram Yoga three times a week to get used to physical exertion in high heat and humidity environment (just try to image a 50 year old office worker – male – in a yoga outfit sweating profusely). We all did as much pre-planning, bike selection, riding schools etc to make sure we – all four of us – were up to the task at hand.

Things were working out great. We all got along. We were riding lots and making decent time and coping with the joys of riding in a different country with different cultures and languages than our own.

But as we were in southern Mexico and getting ready to head for Guatemala over a couple of days I started not feeling right. I was not sleeping, was very “flushed” in the face and generally a little more anxious than usual.

Then by chance I happened to check my pulse rate during dinner on night and noticed that it was doing some funky shit – like missing a beat every few seconds. I phoned home to my wife who is an emergency room nurse and discussed the issue. Upon her advise I found a local doctor who spoke a little English to match my pathetic Spanish. During his examination he asked what medication I was taking for my high blood pressure. None, I told him, as I don’t have high blood pressure. Nope I did have high blood pressure which at that time was 150/90.

In the mean time my wife was doing some research and found that the next town, about 4 hours away, had a full service hospital. So next day I go to the next town, check into the clinic there and meet an exceptional doctor who spoke excellent English. At that point he used words that scared the hell out of me. Words like “stroke”, “heart attack”, “dangerously high blood pressure”. Words that really make a middle aged man take notice. It seems that by then my blood pressure was up to 180/100 and I was in need of medical attention ASAP. Also my ride was over at that point as they could not guarantee that the medicine would not bottom out my blood pressure causing me to pass out – not a good thing while riding a motorcycle in a foreign country !

My wonderful wife made arrangements for me to fly home within a couple of days to seek long term medical attention back here in Canada. My riding partners carried on to Panama without me and had a very successful trip in my absence

To answer your question the worse thing that could happen is that I did not go to start with! To sit and dream and never try would have been the worse thing. To go and not succeed is devastating but as much and not to go at all.

As a side note, I was treated wonderfully by the Mexican medical system for a nominal cost. Much better in some ways than our Canadian system. I have been home for four months and I am finally seeing the specialist this week. All indications are that the irregular heart beat and high blood pressure was caused by air pollution poisoning and at this point I have no long term affects from the trip. As my regular doctor pointed out to “what do you expect. You work in an air conditioned office, live in a place that has excellent air quality and then go to Mexico and ride for 12 hours a day inhaling all that air pollution and vehicle emissions. And you didn’t think you would get sick”.

Franky goes to Bear-ywood
 

I may have soiled myself laughing at that. Nice one!

Some great stories!!!

Frankyboy - you are a STAR!!!:thumbup1:

I'm sure there are plenty more to come.

Tom:cool4:

There was the time when I saw dark clouds and rain ahead and said " It's just a shower, we will ride through it." We got soaked.

Then there was the time when I saw some other dark clouds and rain, but I knew it was just a shower. We got soaked.

But there was the time I saw dark clouds and rain ahead and I said " Lets put our rain gear on". We did, and we rode for hours as it got hotter and hotter with no rain.

In 2004 being overweight and unfit decided to race in the Weston beach race, had to wear my Palace shirt over my chest protector, borrowed some knee pads as I'd damaged my cartlidge(should have had some before then and it might not have been damaged!), could not get the shirt over the chest protector so I just wore the Palace shirt, was doing the race on a KDX 125 trail bike amongst hoards of KTM's, up against Knight and Pastrana. beat Pastrana as he went down on the first corner and broke his wrist, went past Knighter when he fell, I was on my first lap, god knows what lap he was on? I then came off the side of the bike on a dune and felt 'a tear' and thought it was the velcro on one of the knee pads, found it too painful to stand so I rode and completed 2 laps before the pain won over adrenalin. In pain and feeling well pleased with myself as my aim was to complete 1 lap, amased all my club mates including myself at doing 2 laps. it took the NHS a year before they operated on my knee that I'd added torn ligaments to. put on 3 stone in that year due to restricted movement and Mcdonalds and still have a limp( leg that is!), but the biggest choker was, in the final results...I was only credited with doing 1 lap.. the robbing barstewards!

not the worst but funny
 

This one is shorter but even more stupid

On another beautiful alaskan days, I decide to ride the Dalton Highway , 400 km gap without gas, with my suzuky dr650 who as a 200km range... gess what happen .. no you're wrong (I'm not so stupid)...but almost . I buy a large enough spare gas bottle that a strap with elastic on the back of my bike. something like 150 km north of coldfoot (the closer "town")...The point is that I was again far from anyboby when I turn my head back and saw that my extra gas reservoir has a dangerous inclinaison to the left, I stoped on side of the road (right side naturaly) , but the bike on his stand (who is on the left like most bikes ) .... It important to well konw your right and left to fallow my story, ... somebody can tell me what happened .... YEs , youre abselutely right , I pushed stupidely the heavy extra-gas bottle from is left position to the right,witout thinking the bike could follow this mouvement and he effectively felt upside down in a huge 10-15 (again those number ??!) feet deep canal. It take me 20 of super human power effort to put it back on is wheel on the road when, just at the moment that I've finished , a pick-up pass there ... I tell him "I is Ok now , I don't need help , thank you, I'am used to get in and out of shit by myself "

I'am just asking to my self . From his position in the mountain, Is the dollsheep is enouhg intelligent to laugh to see a guy coming fast from nowhere on his direction , stop before and push is engine off the road ?...I hope they are stuppider than me ..... I hope .....

FranK

the worst/funniest bad (potentially) thing that happened to me was being proposition by a very large Azeri man in a petrol station while the local traffic cop was insisting I have some vodka with hime before I continue. The thing that made it amusing was the way he phrased it - 'you, how much, jiggy-jiggy?' with an accompanying bumping together of the two index fingers.

Probably the worst thing I've had happen (not bike related) that made my mates piss themselves laughing was bouncing on a carabiner during a climbing fall. The carabiner managed to force its way right up my jacksie, then break my anal sphincter into three pieces on the way out, leaving one third dangling from my balls by a strip of skin. That was 8 years ago and I still haven't heard the end of it!

Too much information !

Faackin' 'ell Henry - that is truly horrific......

2-Wheelers NEED 2 Wheels!
 

We were loaded (baggage, not beer) and sort of trying to out-do each other (and other traffic) on the rough 'roads' from Pucallpa (in the Peruvian jungle) to Huanuco (in the central Andes). The first section was beautiful pavement, but that ended abruptly at km 60 out of Pucallpa. The dust began (and the deep holes that you can't see BECAUSE of the dust ! http://images.freewebs.com/Images/Sm...ound/angry.gifWithin 3 1/2 hours we were at the Boqueron de Padre Abad, a fantastic pass thru the mountain jungle with waterfalls on each side and Cock of the Rock birds flying overhead.

Immediately after began the REALLY ROUGH stuff. Basketball-sized boulders sticking up everywhere in the road and no path between them. That mixed with tight corners and big trucks and buses elbowing their way past each other. To top it all off, the climb began. As we reached 2,000 ft the bikes began running rough due to the change in altitude. Over a 3,000 ft mountain jungle pass http://www.freewebs.com/shanperu/DSCF0124.JPG(pix) and down the other side towards Tingo Maria (a town that mostly lives off the cocaine harvesting and processing, but very beautifully surrounded by jungle covered mountains). During the last 50 km I had been feeling like something was not right with the rear tire, it felt like it was going flat. I stopped to glance at it, barely seeing it below the rear saddlebags. It looked fine. But my rear brake was locking up too. I drove on longer, picking up speed as the road got better, but the feel was still there. Finally I reached pavement and stopped, got off the bike and looked closely. It was then I saw the condition of the rear axle (pix) ! http://www.freewebs.com/shanperu/axle.JPGThe nut and washer had come off and the axle was more than 6 inches out the other side. http://images.freewebs.com/Images/Sm...Round/ohmy.gif A moment or two longer and I would have been sans a rear wheel (probably while passing a truck!) :eek3:



The moral of the story is DON'T have your buddy 'help' you adjust the chain right before you take off on a trip! :oops2:

Now that's scary!!!

So much for split pins:(

Tom

Alternator that doesnt work, in Northern Pakistan .....

After staying in a village between Gilgit and Chitral, ı woke up find out my alternator doesnt work... It toke me 3 days to find the necessary copper wire to fix it ... only to reach Quetta in time, where ı broke my leg ... :)

A friend of mine and me rode a couple of Minsks in vietnam, Laos and Cambodia.

Or map showed some interesting dirtroads in cambodia and we had to try these of course.

Away from the highway dirtroads in cambodia distance is very relative. This is mainly due to the very very low quality of roads in the jungle...

Late at night we arrived at a small town and since they had no hostels we were invited to sleep at the local temple.

During the night someone ran away with out bag with registration papers, camera, compass and other important things. We were sad and angry but what can you do? We bought all the gas in the town and all the bottle water they had as well.

More crazy roads and finally we reached the first town that was actually on the map. A distance we had estimated to take half a day took two.
Again we bought all their gas and water to keep the ever hungry minsks rolling.

On the third day at 17:40, just before sundown disaster struck. The chain on one of the bikes broke (probably due to overtightning) and we had nothing to repair/replace it with. We haden't seen anything that even looked like a bushmechanic in the last two days and even if we had found one he woulden't have parts for a minsk.
We decided to ditch the bike and try to move on two up.

The roads proved to tough to handle two up, so we took turns walking/running after the bike through the jungle.

In the middle of the darkness we suddenly saw a light.

Out of nowhere emerged a little hut where two male cambodians sat. They looked at us and we at them. No animals around and no fields so they were not farmers. No axes around (thank god) so they weren't lumberjacks.
We made them understand that we needed shelter and they were nice enough to let us have a corner and even a mosquito net.
We were a bit tense as we went to sleep.


Next day we continued through the jungle. The paths were pure chaos and we had alot of trouble communicating with the few locals we met.

Finally when we found a little lumber camp, we persuaded a local to "take us to a big road". 10 dollars and he was happy.

We did not know how long it was or anything really. The heat was oppressive to say the least and the jungle full of snakes and other crap. Panthers were a real danger there we were told later.

One and a half day later we came back to "civilization". We gave our guide the remaining minsk and he crashed it immidiatly since he didnt know how to drive with clutch. Well he spent 15 minutes trying to start it first without the engine cutting out.

You will never ride a motorbike again!
 

Worst moment, just three weeks into my RTW trip and in Newfoundland I skid on gravel at a corner, highside and fly through the air into a ravine. I remember the boulder I hit with my shoulder, it broke my helmet.
The doctors at St Anthony did scans and stuff on my left arm that now would not work. The hand was fine but the rest of the arm was dead. They said they thought that I had torn the arm nerves out at my neck/spine. Then he said those horrible words, 'You will never ride a motorbike again.'
I spent the next few days in the hospital trying to figure out if I could buy a pick-up and drive the rest of the journey with my bike on the back. (don't ask why, you sometimes think of the daftest things in hospital) The Doctor in charge suggested I return to UK for a more detailed scan. I asked him if his diagnoses proved correct, could they fix it. he said 'No' I said 'Not much point in going back then, is there?'

Next day I returned to my campsite and set to work rebuilding the front of my bike one handed. Two days later I'm driving down the road, the fingers on my left hand work fine remember, its just that I have to put it into place with my right hand, coming towards me are two HD riders and without thinking I raise my hand a little to return their wave. The wind catches it and so now I'm riding down the road in top gear with my left arm dangling in the wind like a wet fish. I thought 'Hmm if you try and stop in top gear you're gonna fall off,' so keep riding for a few minutes trying to figure out what the hell I'm gonna do. After three or four attempts I managed to get it onto the tank by swinging my whole torso to the right. Then, like a spider I crawl it up the tank and onto the handlebars where the wind catches it and I'm back to square one. Next attempt and I finally get it back on the handgrip. Anyone else coming will just have to think I ignored them.

Next day at a campsite a dude walks up to see the bike, he's never seen a 'Funduro' and I explain the damage. 'Grip my hand.' he says, now touch your fingers to your thumb one by one.' I do so. You'll be fine in a few weeks' says he,'I'm a chiropracter and know about these things, the docters are wrong.'

He was right, nine months later I'm in Uruguay trying to figure out my next move.

that is a funny/scary story stagbeetle!!!

That moose story reminded me of my trip up the James Bay Road in Quebec, last year. It's a bit embarrassing, but maybe entertaining. Not really a "worst case". I guess it could have gone differently, though:

I woke up terribly early; around 5:15am, and it was already light outside. I dozed in the early morning light trying to get a few more minutes of sleep, but it just wasn't going to happen. It was a pretty calm morning; I could no longer hear the waves from Lake Matagami crashing into shore, and even the forest was strangely quiet. Suddenly I was snapped to full awake by what sounded like someone walking around on gravel; strangely close to my bike. Too quiet for a bear; is a person checking out my gear? Stealing something? I coughed a bit to see what would happen. Silence. Then more sounds of something moving around on gravel; slowly getting closer to my tent. I quietly sat up inside my sleeping bag and listened for the slightest sounds - breathing, panting, anything. Surely a bear would be MUCH louder, right? Every few minutes I'd hear another sound, and each time it would be closer to my tent. I cleared my throat again. I decided there was no way I could get out of my bag and through two zipper safely if it was some nasty forest beast. Bigfoot?

"Twang!" Whatever it was had just brushed against one of the guy lines on my tent. Adrenaline was rushing through my veins now; whatever it was had to be within 3 or 4 feet of my tent; probably closer. I was now protected only by a double layer of tent fabric. I grabbed the can of bear spray and removed the safety from the trigger. If a bear suddenly tore through my tent I was going to make sure I was nicely marinate for him. Maybe I should grab the lighter and set my tent on fire, as well. More crunching gravel, and another "twang!" on the guy line. Now it's behind the tent. No way to get out from there. Several more minutes pass with only the occasional sound of crunching gravel and my breathing. Something touches the bottom of the rainfly and I consider cutting myself out of my tent with my Leatherman until I realize what it is as it crawls along the bottom of my rain fly. I am officially an idiot; it's nothing more than a small salamander. I am likely the only person to ever mistake a salamander for a bear. I can see the news report now: "Shoeless man seen running down James Bay Road in burned clothing. He appears to be crying, or blinded by pepper spray. Mumbling about a killer salamander." It must have been "hopping" or something, making the gravel crunch and hitting my guy lines. I lay back down and put the safety back under the bear spray trigger. I tell myself nobody will ever hear of this; and then consider changing "salamander" to "moose" or at least "fox". After wasting 20 minutes being terrified of a salamander, I decide it's now a good time to get out of bed and get moving; it's still before 6:00am, though.

I'm bumping this thread as we need more of these stories!!!

Keep 'em coming guys (and gals).

Shark Fishing in Africa
 

Back in the early 90’s, I spent a lot of time on the island of Lamu, on the northeast coast of Kenya. I spent a few days on a small sailing dhow with some local friends who were shark fishermen. These guys were great and taught me a lot about the sea, and we spent a number of pleasant evenings drinking tea by a fire on the beach. They didn’t speak English but I speak some Swahili, so we could usually understand each other. I learned names of fish and all things fishing related. I am not good with languages and often have trouble remembering new words.

One beautiful Indian Ocean afternoon I grabbed a hunk of somewhat rancid meat and dove into the water to bait a shark hook on a bouy that we sailed to. As I swam out, the guys in the boat started making a commotion, pointing and yelling Pa Pa, Pa Pa. As I was a bit wary of sharks, especially with a large chunk of meat in my hand, I was relieved to hear them calling Pa Pa, as Pa Pa is the Swahili name for porpoise. My friends had earlier told me that as long as there’s porpoises around, you need not worry about sharks, as the porpoises will chase the sharks away. As I’m approaching the buoy, I see a dorsal fin glide by me that is definitely looking like the ones I’ve seen in movies like Jaws. At that very instant, as I tread water holding a lump of stinking meat watching this fin disappear below the blue water, I remembered with the utmost clarity that Pa Pa does not mean “porpoise”. Pa Pa is the local word for “shark”.

Although it took me about 3 minutes to swim out to where I saw the dorsal fin, it took me only 5 seconds to swim back to the boat after quickly hurling my stinking meat cargo as far from me as possible. No human has ever swam with the speed and determination exhibited on that afternoon, I guarantee you. Upon reaching the boat my companions and I collapsed in absolute gales of laughter as I explained my confusion. The Swahili word for porpoise is Po Po, not Pa Pa.

The 'worst' that happened to me was hearing that I made - whyle travelling - my Bolivian girlfriend pregnant of a twin :eek3:. But the worst turned out to be the best.

Loved the stories so far.

I can't compete with franky and the others but I did have a few senior moments on my last trip including spending four days in Finland with my watch an hour slow. Couldn't understand why the guys in the pizzeria kept telling me they closed at nine when it was only eight and why the ferry from Vaasa to Umea left an hour early - luckily I was on it having got there in plenty of time. Same trip, gave a little Danish girl I met my spare Euros as they don't take 1-2 cent coins in Finland before remembering that Denmark still uses the Kronor, not the Euro.

But dumbest was trying to work out why the wheels kept locking up as I paddled backwards out of a parking space. I stopped, looked at the rear wheel, imagined all sorts of nasty problems with the chain, maybe the gearbox, trip over, home on a breakdown truck, etc. So I reasoned if it wouldn't go backwards, it would go forwards, so I put it in first to pull away, leaning slightly to clear the parking space. The bike stopped suddenly, pitching it and me over onto the ground. Too heavy to pick up solo, I go back into the hotel to get help, feeling like an idiot. Surveying the damage, one scraped Givi pannier that no-one on eBay is going to want, one bent clutch lever, and...





...one totally knackered cable lock still wrapped around the front wheel!

Indoors.

I'm bumping again - we need more stories!!!

Heading from the Gold Coast back to Tassie on a Honda 4. Pulled up in a picnic area for the night, Found a table with a roof over it and curled up in my sleeping bag.

Became aware of a heavy weight on my chest and in my sleep could not work out what was happening. Finally woke up, opened my eyes and was staring at the face of a large brush tail possum that was standing on my chest eyeballing me.

Have no real idea how long he was there but figure several minutes. Probably a good minute eyeballing each other before I gave him a smack up the ears and told to find his own bench.

Hmmm fond memories of the old Honda 4.

Does that mean i'm showing my age. :mchappy:

even worse...
 

wow man, that bear story really is a p!sser.
and as for the carabiner, so bad i couldn't read it a third time.

but i reckon even worse, the most disastrous thing you could ever do, the fattest cockup imaginable...

would be to sit at home watching the tube, or making yourself sad and lazy in some other way, venturing out only to buy the crap pushed at you through the screen(s).

but wait, maybe there's something still more abominable...

... imagine sitting around, waiting for governments, corporations, or *somebody else* to act against the avalanche of environmental disaster that is global warming. imagine being so satisfied, uncaring or misinformed, despite all the evidence we have access to through our education, as to let the planet be destroyed by greed. that would be unforgivable. and yet we're doing it.

cheers,
andy.

This is enough to teach me never to be in a hurry on a bike. This is my '95 Kwak Vulcan...

Had a few errands to run, so I hopped on the bike, started her up, and began to leave. The bike was parked full lock left, which was how it stayed until I cleared the parking lot. As I straightened up, I realized that I had left the steering lock engaged....doh! No drop, but close enough to freak me out.

Ok, unlock the steering, make sure nobody is around, act like you meant to do it, and carry on. Got to my first destination. Hopped off the bike before killing it with the kill switch (dumb move #1), and had it in first gear like a good boy. Then I began to let go of the clutch, as I was running late. AH! BIKE LURCHING FORWARD! Practically had to one-arm the thing back up (hurt BAD, since it is a 500 lb bike DRY), killed it, and nursed my very sore left hand. Oh boy, today just isn't my day.

Still rattled I took off for the next location. Uh oh...just had to switch to reserve. Better get gas, or I'll forget. I get to the station, fill 'er up, pay and off I go again. Begin to take a casual turn to exit the station...and I hear scraping metal. Oh boy...what now?! Look down...DOH! Kickstand is still down! No crash...just stopped, put the stand up, rode home, and walked the rest of the day. Figured I had already gotten away with too much for the next few months to tempt fate.

Circle of Friends
 

If you scroll back on this thread to DirtPig's post on May 6th you'll read about our trip to Panama. Without question the absolute worst thing that can happen has to relate to health and safety.
But....what he didn't say in his post is how hard he worked the day before and how it probably effected him afterward. Four of us all headed to the Panama Canal in January with only my friend Kevan having any remote idea of the hardships we might face. I'm pasting a piece out of my blog from back in February that's funny now but at the time was a real pain in the ass. And if it wasn't for my good friend, we'd still be stuck on the side of the road.
Memo to self - next time learn a few maintenance skills rather than depending on someone else.
..........
Originally posted Jan 24th 08 on dboisclair.blogspot.com

Greetings from hot, sunny and oh so humid, Puerto Escondido Mexico!

To describe the last two days as gruelling would be a vast understatement. They were two of the longest, hottest days I´ve ever experienced. Nerves were frayed, patience was tested and our stamina was really put to the test.

Day 10 started on a sour note because we originally planned on a very early start to beat the heat. Instead, we had a slight setback. Nothing serious in the big scheme of things but maybe a sign of what was to come. We dropped off our laundry at a local lavanderia and they promised us it would be ready to be picked up by 9:00. They lied. They didn't even open the next day. By the morning we wanted to leave we were VERY worried. There was no phone number on the door or on the receipt, and we were starting to think of contingencies IE a major shopping trip to Walmart. Luckily though, we picked up everything at 9:00 and were on our way out of Acapulco by 9:30. Just in time for rush hour and the start of the heat. It´s been around 33 with a Humidex of 42!
Anyway, we were finally on our way. It started out great. More sweeping vistas of the Pacific and some great riding. But.....as the day wore on it became hotter and hotter. Then we had our first "issue".
Now you have to understand, I´m a fairly novice rider. I haven´t experienced a lot of things. Like say, A FLAT TIRE AT 110KPH!! I had no idea what was happening other than my bike started to do the funky chicken and I was going WAY too fast for my liking. We were able to limp along to a spot where we could all pull off and then the fun began. And here I have to give a VERY big KUDOS to Kevan. If not for him, Brad, Steve and I would still be back on the side of the road looking at the tire and thinking WTF? Anyway, it turns out that I picked up a 4 inch screw that managed to work it's way right through the side wall. We had to pull the tire, remove it from the rim, install a tube as an emergency fix and re-install the wheel, all in 35 degree heat without a lick of shade. It took a full two hours and by the time we were back on the road the damage was done. I´m sure we all had varying degrees of heat stroke and dehydration and it was borderline dangerous. Later that same day we were all litterally exhausted. At one point I dumped my bike when we pulled over for a break. It was a stupid mistake and only because I was too tired to see it coming.
One final bit on the tire change. It´s quite an endeavour! After the wheel is removed you have to break the ¨bead´ in order to remove the tire from the rim. (I didn`t know what it meant either)
Now, to do this takes a lot of pressure. The easiest way is to place the wheel on its side on the ground and jump on the sidewall of the tire. Soooooo.......three of us held hands and stood in a circle and jumped up and down on the tire! Our own little Circle of Friends. But- did I mention how hot it was? And that we wear black riding pants? Riding pants that we eventually took off to stave of heat stroke. So, know you have three grown men, all in their underwear but wearing black motorcycle boots, holding hands and jumping up and down in a circle. We´re lucky we didn´t get arrested!
We eventually made it to the middle of nowhere, dusty, dirty and VERY Mexican small town of Pinotea Nacional. We pulled in to town at 4:30 - a 7 hour trip that was supposed to have taken 4 hours.
Hilights of the day. A heard of goats on the raod, wayward pigs and burro´s and Steve VERY nearly being clobered by a falling tree by some Mexican road workers that had a major chuckle while trying to kill their first Gringo on a Motorcycle.
Mileage- 269 klm

Worst thing that can happen (besides injuries) is ..

To loose the key of your disk lock, with the lock on your disk ... in Leh! .. :)

Or watching the monkeys playing frisbee ...with your only pair of shoes ... :) :)

One day I rode 300 miles into the Argentinian pampas on my own.

After riding 8 hours of the infamous "Ruta 40", I arrived at the only petrol station for another 300 miles with only fumes left in my carbs.

"No hay gasolina" says the attendant (no gas)...

If that wasnt bad enough, I reach down for my bum bag and map and AHHHHH.. Its gone !

I had lost my bum bag with my wallet, passports, maps, all bike papers and cash etc..

Imagine the feeling being stuck in the middle of nowhere with an empty gas tank, no cash and no papers.. Naked is not the word and I nearly cried a little :innocent:

I thought I was absolutely F**KED until I remembered that a had 100 pesos stashed in my pocket.

I managed to get the guy to sell me his last squirt of fuel out of the ground so I could turn around and ride the gruelling road once more to find my lost bag.

Alas, I couldn't find my bag and ended up crashing in the gravel ripping off my pannier instead. Only the pumas could here my screams of frustration and anger...

As the sun went down I spent the night shivering under a bush in the desolate scrub lands wondering how the hell I was going to battle the awful roads to get back to the nearest town when I barely enough fuel and cash to get to the next petrol station..

Alas, I made it to an ATM (stashed a credit card on the bike) and had to ride 7000 miles back to Buenos Aires to get new papers trying to dodge checkpoints and police.

I thought that was my bad luck over with until I was electrocuted and almost drowned in a Brazilian swimming pool when a 240v street lamp fell in on top me :eek3:

4 weeks since last post - time for a bump!!!

I'll try again!!!

There must be someone with a funny story out there???

Whilst in Brazil, I managed to get myself electricuted in swimming pool.

It had been a hard long day and I was having trouble with my bike. It kept cutting out and stalling like it was being starved of fuel. I stripped the carb at the side of the road and still couldnt find the problem. Its really difficult working on a bike in tropical heat with a limited tool kit in a petrol station, belive me. The bike still wouldnt run so we made a decision to hobble back to the nearest town.

So after a few hours of messing about in the heat, we hit the road and 4 hours later and in the dark we roll into Vitoria and find ourselves a pricey hotel.

I was really tired and pissed off after a bad day so went down to the pool with my travel buddy.

I walked over to the pool and leant on a big brass street lamp thing next to the pool. 2 seconds later, i was in the pool with this metal 240v light on top of me being electricuted and unable to move underwater for about 10 seconds…

I thought this was it, the end of Ted…And what a way to go !!!!
Thankfully the light shorted out and I dragged myself out of the pool bleeding badly from deep electric shock lacerations on my foot. Sean and a local guy bandaged me up as the hotel staff giggled like it was an everyday event !!

If this happened in the Westen world, id be a millionaire with the compensation. Here, I was lucky not to get billed for a new lamp ! Thats just life on the road in South America though and im still keeping the reaper on his toes for now http://www.touringted.com/wp-include...icon_smile.gif

http://www.touringted.com/_gallery_/...c3cf24343b92c6

As an electrician I know what the mains feels like - not nice!!!

Lucky escape there mate!!!

Funny story?...you want a funny story...hell I'll give you a funny story!!!
It's funny 'cause it didn't happen to me, but I was there though. Here goes.

The names are witheld to protect the innocents who were involved...:blushing:

Once upon a time...in another life I was guiding some tourists(French) on a backcountry ski trip with my friend (another guide). Oh by the way it's not a bike story but it's a trip/travel one.

So we're guiding them on a not too rugged trip, skiing and sleeping in prospector tents and carrying our stuff in backpacks. When my friend who happens to get up at night to take a leak and relieve his prostate (he's over 60); so he get's up and half asleep walks in the middle of the night it's -30 celcius to find a tree stump (why is it that we have to find a stump to pee??) anyway he does find a suitable one and starts to relieve himself.

WHEN SUDDENLY...the stump starts to move... he fumbles with his... trying to get it back in his pants and not get urine all over himself, when he hears the stump talking...

the next morning over breakfast we hear one of our female skier talk to her friend. she mentioned that last night she was peeing when all of a sudden she gotten herself all wet ...she hurried back into the tent thinking that she wasbeeing peed on by a bear marking his territory...

Man I tell you I couldn't eat breakfast 'cause my friend had just told me his side of the story.

Moral to the story, kick the stump before you start your thing!!!

It's been a while since this thread has seen the light of day so here's a bump.

Worst thing that happened to us was that we finished our trip back in 2009 and went back to work! :thumbdown::thumbdown:

On a more serious (read pertinent) point, nothing really bad happened, we were careless a few times, got ripped off several times, and had our bike vandalised in Switzerland. Bloody bastard put over 15 holes in our seats with a key or screw-driver. That was the most disappointing thing really, it's just like having you heart torn out when you first see the vandalisation. Can't imagine what it would be like to have your bike stolen!

Worst thing that could happen?

Easy, some nonce from the local council estate stealing my DR650 after I'd just ridden it 30,000km from Australia to UK and spent lots of time/money getting it UK registered. That and the cops never finding it.

I met a girl on the internet, as you do, and decided to drive to Kazan to meet her.
I got back off exercise with the army and set off (rather naughtilly as the army doesn't like that sort of thing) for Kazan in my trusty Landcruiser. what I forgot was that on my way to go on exercise I had a puncture, and I forgot to recheck the wheelnuts. result was just outside hanover doing 70mph on the autobahn my wheel fell off. me and my truck survived the resultant crash (and being hit by a split rim doing a fair speed down the autobahn behind me!) but spent 3 days in a Germany Toyota dealer waiting for a new brake drum. with only 2 weeks leave I hit the road again. I finally made it to Kazan and met the girlie. nice girl, had a great time but was only able to stay 4 days before having to head home again. I set out the day my visa was due to expire.

It was a classic right hand drive accident whilst waiting to turn left across a junction. because I was too far over to get a view I was hit by a car coming the other way (lada versus landcruiser, no contest!) because I was over the centre line I was held to be at fault, even though I wasn't moving.

For speed I tried to pay the guy off but he wanted more money than I would give him for his car so we did it on the insurance a guy turned up who I thought was a police accident investigator but was in civvies, turned out he wasn't, I think he might have been an insurance guy. He gave me a statement to sign which I didn't understand and wasn't filled in. He received a reply understandable in any language, sign nothing if you don't understand it and cetainly sign no blank forms!

The police turned up and did their stuff. The main man was proper scary, scars all over his face, tattoos on his hands and a brisk and efficient demenour. They wouldn't let me leave Kazan until the process was complete (about 24hours) but as my visa was due to run out we went to the cop shop instead, I followed them there, giving the guy who had hit me a lift. In the cop shop they took their statements, and tried to get me to sign some papers in russian, so I refused. No one spoke english, one of the coppers spoke a little french, as I do, unfortunately not the same bits so we were stuck. They sorted out an interpreter but she spoke no english either! At this point I got them to phone said girls friend I had met who is married to an American.
The conversation in the cop shop was light hearted and we were managing to have a good laugh but it was turning to talk of corruption and how much people in England earn, which is a line of discussion I did not wish to pursue. When the girl turned up she phoned a friend and got them to speak to the coppers, turns out this friend was the local chief of police. she's a paediatrician and had treated his children a few weeks previously! Ever seen a policeman stand to atention on the telephone!! When they finshed speaking on the phone, she turned to me and said 'sign anything they give you, it will be fine'. the only payment needed was 200 rubbles which is paid to another office to stop it being pocketed. The guy who had hit me kindly took this to the office for us so I could sort my visa out (another story all together)and refused to take 50 rubbles for his trouble.
I escaped with all my finger nails intact!
I didn't meet the girl again but contimued with the internet dating thing. about 1 year later I met my now wife and we had our first baby 6 months ago:thumbup1:

sweet
 

Nice tale 'Moggy' .

congrats on the whole baby thing too !

phil.

Old thread
Did not happen to me but here is the worst thing that happened to a work mate.
He was Harley rider you know the loud pipes save lives sort. All the time every year most work brakes planning the "big Sturgis ride". For you that do not know Sturgis is a cowboy town save for a week or two when people that like Harley Davidson ride to this little town and trash the place. (ok some trailer there bike) Fore me it looks like new kinda hell too many drunk people that are looking to be tuff and cool and like no one else so long as just like every one else there.

Well with all the planning he never went it was going to next year then the next then the next for 10 years or so. He had all the stuff every stop was planed the roads there picked out even the gas stops.

Well not long ago he died.
Massive heart attack, dropped dead getting ready for work. He never made a ride to Sturgis and never will. Bit of a downer.

Makes one think about selling it all and just go.

a shitty mess
 

It has been a while but here´s another embarassing story...
While living in Perth (West Australia) for a year some of my housemates invited me to a party in a fancy suburb (Nedlands?!) As I was just in from Amsterdam I didn´t know anybody else at the party. My housemates were crammed up in an old Holden and I followed on a borrowed motorbike (Light Yamaha) to this particular house. It was huge with all the luxuries and a great pool in the garden. It was very posh and lots of people inside and out, all smartly dressed. As I started to mingle a bit shyly I noticed a somewhat bittersweet smell everywhere I went but I didn´t take too much notice. As I got into conversation with some people close to the opened patio doors we looked back inside the house to see what the distubance was all about. Some women were rubbing the thick creamwhite carpet and pulling disgusted faces. Someone had left a trail of dogshit footsteps around the house and when I looked down my heart skipped a beat. There were big chunks of shit piling from either side of my left foot, my mind worked overtime and it appeared that I wasn´t discovered just yet. Sneakily I went into the garden and wiped off as much as I could on the bushes and grass without attracting too much attention. My head was as red as a trafficlight but I got away with it....I left that party quite early and was sooo relieved when I was finally on the bike again!

About halfway through a 3-week group tour in South India on rented Enfield 500s, the crankshaft bearing seized in my bike, leaving it unrideable while we were high in the jungle mountains.

Had to do the second half of the trip sitting as a passenger in the cargo jeep. Ah well, it was still a very interesting experience.

The worst thing is to die old not having done all the things you wanted to do but were too scared of taking a chance.


not funny, but think about it. Life is a suicide mission, no one gets out alive. All you can take with you are your memories.

Hi,

I was driving this bis 12 t truck without a drivers licence through Botswana. It was getting dark and we where getting tired. It was hot and there was this nice green bit of grass beside the "road".

Because our second truck with the winch was somewhere else and we only wanted to meed two days later at the Sambia border i did not want to drive into the grass. I was afraid we could get stuck (we did some days before) so i jumped out with my flip flops and short pants and went into the 1m high grass to check if the ground is wet or dry.

Suddenly i had this pain in the back of my Foot (heel?). Emediatly i remembered what people have told me about snakes. There ist this black mamba in Africa and if it bites you you only have 3 Minutes left to smoke a cigarette and send one sms. Unfortunately i did not smoke and there was no reception and the next hospital was at least two days drive away.

Of course we did not have snake treatment so i get the kitchen knife and cut deep into my foot to make it bleed the poison out...

Luckily after 3 Minutes i was still alive and im still :)

Offroad extrem: Im 4x4 LKW durch Afrika

http://www.adventure-travel-experien...w_tour_087.jpg

The worst that happened to me is when I crashed in the race track, at first I thought that there were only scratches but looking at the engine it was totally crushed.

Just broke my ankle
 

Not the worst thing that could happen but I broke my ankle, as you can see in this video.... Was testing a pizza delivery bike off-road, it went without much warning!

Pizza boy breaks ankle riding off-road - YouTube

Should have put those knobblies on! doh Nice to see all the hikers pitching in to help :thumbdown:

I didn't even need the bike to do something similar on Wednesday. I was out on a run, misjudged the traffic crossing a road and had to sprint. Two steps in I felt something tear in my left foot and it gave way. After the pain subsided I still had to hobble two miles home on it. Still can't walk on it this morning.

As complete newbies to overland travel, the wife and I set off on a 'guided' trip in Morocco in our Discovery in 2009.

Numerous breakdowns, a highly excitable Moroccan AA man, a wife that flew home without me, a night wandering the streets of Granada in the middle of holy week, several hours of hassle with Ryanair and 2 days dealing with Brittania rescue and the car was recovered home 2 weeks after me.

The full story is here.

Although we despaired at times it taught us a lot. Since then we have toured Tunisia and we're going back to Morocco in March 2012.

I hope you enjoy it

A couple of years ago, before I started riding motobikes I had a nasty accident on my bicycle. Stopped on the front brake and went straight over the handlebars knocking a couple of teeth out in the process.

First thing my mum said to me when she saw me in a state at the hospital (I was 23) was: Look at the damage you've done to yourself, and you want to ride motobikes?!

Trying to explain that if I had been wearing a full face helmet the damage would probably have been a lot less did not impress her...

I got the last laugh. My grandad gave me his 125 when he was not strong enough to ride anymore, she now begrudgingly accepts the massive smile on my face when I grab my leather jacket and go out for a ride :clap: