Took refuge in a corn field in Iowa.

Lesson learned: The leaves on corn stalks will cut you like razor blades when you are going 50 MPH in a t-shirt.

 

When my old man stopped logging we settled in Northern Idaho. I graduated from Potlatch, Idaho if anyone know where that is.

Let me set the stage. Potlatch is right at the foothills of the Rockies, Basically right at treeline. To the East there is nothing but White Pine, Cedar and some of the Harshest country around. To the West lays nothing but gentle rolling hills covered in Wheat, Peas, Lentils and various other crops.

The day starts with me going to check my Bear Bait. Basically a 55 gallon drum filled with all sorts of stuff bears find tasty. I wake up early to go see if a bear has hit any of the bait. I hop on my Yamaha 125 Enduro and start cutting through the fields to save some time.

I am dressed from head to toe in Carharts and look like the Stay Puff marshmallow man. I have a old horse scabbard lashed to the side of the bike and my Trusty 30-30 is tied down inside but the butt is sticking out some. Just as I crest a hill, I look down at the county road and see a County Sheriff sitting there, not doing anything.

I really don't think much about it. I am 14 and in my mind I am not doing anything wrong. I just speed along through a Last years lentil field. I was probably doing 45-50. Well the old deputy was sitting right at the exit to the field I was going to. Still no problem in my mind. I speed up to him faster than hell and as I get close I notice I am gonna need to go down into the ditch to get around him. I do and as I am coming up out of the ditch I give it to much gas. Anyone who knows about dirtbikes knows that Knobby Tires and no fender and soggy dirt/grass/mud equals a Rooster Tail of golfball sized mini rockets. Well that rooster lands a perfect stripe down the middle of Ol Boys patrol car.

He DID NOT appriciate that. He flipped his lights on apparently, but I was already speeding down the road looking for the entrance to the next field to cut across. Then I hear his siren blip, I look back and for some dumb *** reason, I just gun it. Blame it on being 14...Hell the Duke Boys do it all the time right?

I jump off into a field, but this guy knows the roads and musta grown up in the country because he can drive like a mad man! Now I am scared, I can see him following me on the road system (everything is laid out in sections so there is a road atleast every mile). The old man always said "You can't outrun the radio" but I wasn't having any of that, I was scared out of my young mind by now and just wanted to get away.

Here I am running from the cop I just sprayed with mud (on accident but still), Armed with a high powered rifle that is LOADED and dressed like stay puff marshmallow man. At that point I remember thinking "Wow, didn't expect this."

I eventually outrun him by heading into the woods. I park my bike in a ditch and cover it and me with bows from a pine tree. I stayed there for what seemed like a week, but was probably more like 3-4 hours.

I hop back on the bike and decide to take a bit longer way around to go home incase they are casing the area still. Well do you know that if you run from the cops and stuff, you use A LOT of gas? I found out just how far that enduro would go on a tank. Just far enough to get me to about 2 miles from the house. I am pretty mad now...I push the bike to a safe place. Grab my rifle and start hoofing it home.

I get about a mile from the house and my heart stops beating for a good 10 seconds. Coming down the county road is a White Patrol car with a dark black mudstrip down the center. I think about runing and even step off the road hoping he won't see me, but he was coming from up behind and I was not smart enough to think that he already saw my bike.

He pulls up and I just stand there, hang my head and wait for the shots to r

 

I was following my roomate back lateone night to our place in his'70 somethin' Camaro and me onmy first bike(Honda V30 magna). As we hit the highway heading into Atlantic City he pulled along side and gave the nod. We both gave it everything we had. A couple of miles down the road we passedan abandoned gas station. The cop was parked on the side of the building barely visible and we didn't see himuntil it was too late. When he rolled out with the flashers I had a full open throttle and just kept it that way. I out ran him for sure, but the radio is another story. His buddies we waiting up ahead. Since I worked the local area doing a service route I knew the streets and managed to lose them darting around and going up a couple narrow one way streets and alleys. When I got the bike home I threw it behind the house with the cover on it and stashed the helmet and jacket.

 

Great stories, Bobber and others!

For me and my teen buds, it finally got to the point where they didn't chase us anymore, they got all our addresses and just went straight to the house and waited for us to come home. They knew the sound and characteristics of each of our bikes!!!

 

When we were kids we rode dirts in the woods and around the tracks. The cops would try to chase us with road kings. That was funny. They all ways try get us for something but never could. Then the cop had honda hawks. They just needed someone that could rode a dirt bike. Nowthe cop can not give chase after crashing the helicopter chaseing dirt bikes.

 

We used to get chased all the time. It was like a game after a while. The cops would show up and give chase, we would scatter for the hills. The nice thing was I grew up in the mountains of West Virginia, and there were abandoned coal mines everywhere. There were so many dirt roads and trails that if you made to a certain point where the asphalt stopped and the dirt began, most times the cops would just give up. I guess I was chased probably 15-20 times, and out of all of those I only got caught once. Thats because I dumped the bike going around a curve too fast. Those knobby tires dont grab the asphalt too well. My bike and knee were tore up pretty bad so the cop let me off with a warning. I was only about 13 or 14 when that happened.

 

A certain LEO in North Denver was always on my case in the early 60's (not a bad guy, gave me a lot of breaks along with a lot of citations). A bud of mine wrecked his BSA and damn near killed himself and the bike sat in his garage for about a year. He finally sold it to me for $10 and I was going to restore it "good as new".
Wanted to see if it still ran so I changed the fluids and fired her up. The twist grip was broke so i tied a loop in the end of the cable and would put my finger through it for throttle. The clutch linkage was broke so i would just rev her up and kick it into gear to get started with a little wheelie and shift the synchromesh with no problemo after that. The tank and the fenders were smashed and bent but pounded them out to get clearance and off I went.
This was after dark in the summer, no lights, and brakes were only a memory. I'm about a mile (downhill) from home when this particular LEO nails me dead to rights. No use running because he knew me and where I lived. He's all serious and starts reeling off the things he could write me for...no registration, no lights, no inspection sticker, unsafe vehicle, etc., etc. I was about one point away from losing my license and he knew that damn well because he gave me the tickets.
He says, "Bob, I haven't decided whether to write you or not, but this unsafe vehicle needs to get off the streets and you can't ride this piece of junk...guess you'll have to push it home."
Anyhow, I push the bike a mile uphill and he follows me the whole way. I'm streamin sweat like I ran a marathon by the time we get down the alley behind my house. I figure I'll be lookin at a year suspension from the points I'll get from the citation. I walk back to his cruiser and he's laughin his a$$ off. Just tells me to keep that piece of crap off the street and drives away.
Actually, the Denver cops were mostly pretty cool back then. They had a lot more lattitude and would give you a break if you were respectful and straight with them.

 

Yep,we got tired of pushing, so we start em up about 4 blocks from where we ride, cop must of heard us fire them up, next thing you know he is on our tails, we look at each other and gun it, across a busy road, go sailing into a field, ook back and the cop car is in the air after us, we gun it up some hills and he is gone. We ditched the bikes, and starting walking, see one of the police 4X4 jeeps in the swamp buried, they yell when they see us but we kept walking, they were about a 100 yards away at this point. We went back after dark hoping they didn't find the bikes and push them to a buddies house about 2 blocks away...yep, left them locked up there for a couple weeks.

 

Well,

I remember this one time when...........nah, never mind, if I hafta write a book I'll just send it to a publishing co. and get paid for it..............

 

Sheeeet. . . . got chased on my way to work this morning. . . .