Embarrassing Moments in Motorcycle History....

This is purely for the benefit of a fellow rider who believes he committed the ultimate in embarrassing motorcycle stupidity. After reading this, my friend, you will know that I got you beat.....

July, 1986, I was on a tour of the Western States and BC Canada on my trusty and beloved Yamaha Venture. As a much-anticipated part of that tour, I rolled into Yellowstone National Park to witness the natural splendor of Old Faithful Geyser.

The parking lot was a flat, wide open, easily navigated piece of real estate with well-marked spots and prominent sidewalks. Hardly a recipe for disaster. But upon entering said parking lot, what did my 20-something year old eyes see, but a trio of fine looking lasses about my age. Upon hearing the quiet-but-authoritative rumble of the Yammie's V-4, they turned to look. Of course they did. Why not?

For upon the two-tone blue beast sat I, the tank-top wearing, broad-shouldered and imminently cool pilot. They were looking, and I knew it. I was Joe Cool. Bad to the Bone. The Man on the Scene. I rolled right past them, mere feet from where they stood on the sidewalk, conscious of my oozing cool factor. Pointed the Yammie to a parking spot right up front (where else?) and prepared to dismount in a continuing aura of cool. Except......

When I leaned it over onto the kickstand, there was no kickstand. In my focus and attention given to being cool, I'd forgotten to put the kickstand down. By the time I realized this, the bike was already past the point of no return. Slam! It went to the pavement.....

The sheer volume of laughter and giggles from every direction was equaled only by the panic I felt at my inability to pick the bike up. I was young and quite strong, but the overloaded Yammie was just too much for me. Mercifully, a very large guy came trotting over and assisted me, without derision or comment. I think he knew there was literally nothing he could say to make me feel better, or worse.

And I never mustered the courage to make so much as eye contact with the three lasses whom I'd previously held in rapt attention.

So you see, my friend, while your mistake was a combination of ego, weather, and an unfamiliar road, mine was naked ego. By my estimation, yours was a common mistake, made over and over again by riders of great experience. Mine....I have never seen nor even heard of being duplicated by even the clumsiest of scooter riders.