We were doing a fiber install job in New Mexico. It was my turn to make a soda run, so I jump in the truck and head down the road. Keep looking in the mirror wondering why the car behind me is trying/wanting to pass, but never catches up to overtake. We were on base, so I thought maybe they were just worried about the SPs being sticklers for the speed limit. About 3 or 4 miles later I realized I was on the wrong side of the road...I'd been back to the States for about 6 months at that time, after returning from two years in Japan.

 

the drunken horrors... sure many times.

you wake up after a long night with a horrific feeling, you then begin dialing friends who start to fill you in on what you did the previous night. after three of these calls you can take no more and sink into your bed not sure how you'll face anyone who saw you that night.

 

My wife says just my getting out of bed is an embaresment.

 

one night some time ago I came out of a store and got into the wrong truck that was just like mine,my key worked in it also and drove it home about six miles away.under the carport light the truth came out and I returned to the store and had to wait for the owner to come out,she was still inside.It all ended well,she was a nice lady.

 

I can do you one better. After years of being bikeless I finally convinced my wife to let me get a new Harley. It took her getting stranded in Ecuador on a mission trip when the President was ousted for me to convince her we all enjoy things others may consider dangerous. Anyways, about a month later I picked up my brand new 2005 Dyna Superglide. I was so excited. My first stop was my office. I didn't quite get the kickstand down all the way, and while getting off the bike it went to the ground. I had to have one of the girls from the office help me pick it back up. Other than a scratch on the derby cover and my pride hurt all was ok. Next stop was our local chevy dealership where I knew a couple of salesmen. Of course they wanted to hear it run. I hit the start standing next to the bike and sure enough it was in gear. Now I am running next to it holding the handlebar until it crashes into a pole. I am laughing as I type this, but I assure you I wasn't laughing then. That was almost the end of my Harley experience. The bike had to go back to the dealer for over $1000 in repairs. My wife didn't say much as she knew how I felt. She only said she knew she had a bad feeling about this.

 

I was 23 in 1987 & just bought my first Harley. I was stationed in London in the armed forces and whilst riding one sunny day pulled up to the curb opposite a bank ATM to get cash. It was a really trendy part of the city where all the cool dudes used to hang out and the presence of a Harley caused quite a scene. I stepped off and cooly walked to the bank getting only a few paces before realizing I had not put the side stand down. I dashed back and just managed to grab the bike before it fell over. There I was straining and franticaly pulling like a demented duck before I got the bike safely onto the stand. No damage other than my ego. A good lesson though changed my whole approach to bike rides.