I remember the first and only time so far that I've wrecked a street bike. My first bike (I was a beginner and it was all I could afford at the time) was a Ninja 500 and had it for a few months back in 2004 till I got on the brakes to hard coming into a gas station. Rear brake locked up when the pavement dropped and changed and I high sided right in front of everyone. Tore up my knee and elbow (yep I was a squid in those days) along with my pride but I got back on and went home. I know people say you either keep riding or you hang it up after your first crash. Just wanted to see if others remembered their first experience.

 

I was leading a group of a few bikes and a few cars back from this great 120 miles or so loop we used to do outside of Tallahassee, FL. We were coming back into town after doing some really spirited riding (if you catch my drift), so I kind of lost perception of how fast we were actually going. It had rained in Tally, but not when we were leaving, nor while we were on the ride. It all happened while we were away, it was nothing but sunshine (but that's not uncommon if you know Florida weather).

Anyways, those 2 factors worked against me. As we were coming into the first traffic lighted intersection - the light turned yellow. I had to stop because I was leading the group and most had not been on that ride before (they would have been lost).

The white-line-of-death at the intersection that was wet, with me carrying too much speed (lost the perception of mph) locked the front tire and I was getting all out of shape.

I was still probably going 45mph or so (based on what the guy behind me said) when I binned it. I still remember the view horizontally looking over the tank with the trees in the background with the afternoon sun shining through them.

As I was sliding on the ground, I remember spinning around on my backside. I was pissed - my new Scorpion lid - only a month old - I remember trying to hold my head up as to not let it hit the ground. It eventually did, though. It was slow motion. I remember that I just could not hold my head up anymore. The back of the helmet just grazed the pavement.

Or so I thought... judging by the damage to the helmet (and from what my friend confirmed), my head slammed into the ground.

My friend said it was the coolest thing he'd ever seen. Apparently, I didn't even stop sliding on the ground before I was up running after my bike. It slid through the intersection and I do remember running after the bike yelling "I'M OKAY!!!! DON'T CALL THE POLICE!!!" to the poor lady in the car (perpendicular intersection) with a horrified look on her face. I picked the bike up, rolled it down the street, then down another street, and then finally down into another small side street. I was a little paranoid back then because I was still hiding my motorcycle from my parents. They had absolutely no idea that I was a rider.

I waited there for the BAS to reset. There was some coolant on the fairings - after checking it, it was just from the reservoir. I lost the visor on my helmet. We finally made our way home. I walked in the door, threw off my helmet, grabbed a FOSTERS oil can, smoked a cigarette, then went to a bar with my friends/fraternity brothers.

I was sore for a few days, but no real damage. I had a bit of road rash on the top of my hip from where the jacket road up. But that's it. After looking at the helmet - had I not been wearing it, I'd probably be a vegetable and not know how to walk. The gloves and jacket held up just fine.

 

I can just imagine this being yelled lol. I remember going home after my incident, walking thru the door and my mom seeing my bloody elbow and knee and saying "So you going to finally get rid of that bike now?" I said "Nope, I'm gonna get a 600." With my dad smiling in the background. I did get an R6 a year later....

 

Haha awesome!!!

 

I threw my '99 ZRX1100 down the road, and almost into a gas station.

I rolled into the ditch, and after I got up and walked over to the bike, the first person to ask if I was okay was the police officer that had been following 3 cars back.

I was lucky that I wasn't hit by the car behind me, and that the bike didn't hit another car...or went into the gas station. Oy.

 

I was riding my 1978 GS750E, my second bike. I had a buddy riding bitch, doing the limit, riding very safe, minus of course any helmets like most young invincible bikers. I was going through a green light that went into a movie theatre parking lot. This guy & his wife made a left in front of me, they had a red arrow from their direction. I locked my rears, lighter on the fronts, bringing my bike into side skid so to not hit head-on. I skidded into his passenger front fender/door perfectly sideways without dropping the bike or hurting either of us. The only damage was my knee indent in my gas tank. The couple was so scared & apologetic admitting they went through a red light/arrow, not paying attention. Their insurance covered a brand new tank & few other things I was planning to do when I had the funds ( I was still a teenager ). I had gotten to know the owner of the bike repair shop ( 2nd bike ) & he said he can have their insurance pay for those extra things he knew I wanted to do.

 

Right on man.


That worked out pretty well. But your knee going and denting the tank didn't hurt? You're a beast!

 

First real one? Yoli took a beating.

I had Yolanda, my 2011 s1000rr for 2 months. Barely been riding it for 1 month (do not buy a new bike in Feb on the East Coast ). Was on my way to the barber, feeling pretty good. Nice and confident about riding a liter bike. Went to take a right hand turn at a nice lazy 30 mph.

Next thing I know Yoli is sliding across the street on my leg and shoulder while I'm enjoying the interesting view of the asphalt. Seriously... it's really cool from that angle and speed. We slide from the beginning of the turn all the way across the street, with me holding onto Yoli the whole time... till the curb kicks me loose. Yoli goes up on the curb and finally stops on the sidewalk.

People waiting for the bus come running over to make sure I'm ok and help me pick up the bike. My leg was a little sore and Yoli looked okish. Till I got home. I was ok-ish because my gear ate most of the crash

Most of the crash. I took some impact damage from the curb. Not rash. Impact. Yolie took a bit more of a beating than cursory inspection revealed too: $7000+ worth of damage. Cracked her frame. She was in the shop of a month getting her skeleton replaced.

Thing I learned from this: Traction Control means penguin poop when the front wheel decides to slide. Only electronics that did anything was the drop sensor

 

Not even a bruise.

 

My first time was many decades ago when I had my first bike, a 125 enduro. Naturally, I was checking out some trails at the time.

I was learning how to climb hills and this one in particular was a bit steeper than some others I had tried. I made it about 3/4 of the way up and it stalled. Being a rookie, I hadn't given it enough throttle.

The bike and I started to roll down the hill backwards. The thought of applying the brakes was not being processed by my brain for some reason. I didn't roll too far until it fell over. Fortunately, it wasn't the side with the hot exhaust pipe next to my leg.

The only damage was a broken rear turn signal, a broken shift lever and a bent footpeg. The local shop straightened the peg with a rubber mallet and I bought a new shift lever and turn signal that same day. I never told my parents.