I wish I was half this good!!

Southwest Police motorcycle competition

that is some great control.

Wow great depth perception and control of a heavy bike. I used to compete in autocross with my 98 BMW M Roadster and I can tell you those cones will get you when you least expect it. The setup with the spiral was handled beautifully. Now let's see him do that one-handed with a radar run in one hand and the bike's handlebar in the other.

Holy crap ! I wouldn't be able to do that on my scooter ....never mind a big heavy cop cruiser. Well done !

I'd hate for this guy to be the one to judge the motorcycle driver's course for a license!

Simply amazing riding.

Reminds me of when I took my test roughly a zillion years ago in Montana. Being terrifically broke, the only transportation I could scrape up enough money for was a little Honda 90 scooter.

Yeah, I was that broke.

Anyhow, I still had to have a motorcycle endorsement on my license, so on the appointed Saturday morning I show up to the snickers of everyone else. The one guy that didn't laugh was this huge biker guy on this full up chopper. Absolutely gorgeous, a real 1970's throwback sort of custom job, with extended forks (though not the nine foot long rediculous types), raised handlebars, etc.

Well we get to the cones and there is no way that bike is gonna make it. One got three tries; otherwise it's a fail. Twice the guy tries, and even though he handled it as well as anyone could, it was a physical impossibility.

"Hell, why don't you ride the scooter?" the officer in charge says.
"Do you mind?" the biker asks.

So here's this 300 pound leathered up biker on my little red scooter putting through the cones and nobody's saying nothing. Absolutely nothing.

But it is a mental picture I will keep forever.

Holy crap! That is good!

IMPRESSIVE!

Going to need a new front tire after that kind of riding. Excellent riding skills.

A picture of that would have been hilarious.

This maybe ?


Wheels

Naw, he was more the "wall of a man" sort of guy, over six feet tall with as much muscle as fat.

The "rest of the story" is that six months later I was sitting in a bar that had nickle draft (!) and pool tables, which meant it also attracted bikers. Well, one of them decides that he wants to give me a lot of trouble (being the little guy with a short haircut wearing a sweatshirt can be a magnet) and I'm thinking it is waaayyy too far to the door, he has a pool cue, and my stool was fixed to the floor. Not good.

So I'm getting ready to give my best and get even worse back when a voice booms across the room, advising that he "better not &%$# with that man." Yep, it was that huge biker guy, and he not only got the heat off of me but bought me a glass. I did the same, we downed them (they were six or eight ounce glasses), and he agreed that it was for the best that I was just leaving anyway.

After that, though, I never had any trouble with any of the bikers in any bar in the town. Once in awhile I'd get a question about how I knew him, and the answer was always the same: "You know, just from around and doing stuff. Nothing big."

The weird thing is that I usually don't get any grief from gangs - whether bikers, inner city, whatever. I put out a "neutral" vibe, I guess. Heck, when we rented a little trailer outside of Fort Campbell we had a huge biker gang living right next to us and they were as rough as they come, yet we never had a problem with them. The girls across the street used to come ask us to get them to kill the noise if their parties went too late (and too loud) - usually they honored the request.

Six months later they got raided by the cops and cleaned out (drugs or something) and the girls across the way got busted for prostitution; the trailer park lost all of its charm and we moved back into the barracks.