Tell us about your illegal street race

[chef1366]

I just race poor unsuspecting blokes at red lights.
I've won and I've been beat.
Hoping to start at the Dragstrip soon.

[tone]

Well , it wasn't really a race,but....... Back in the day I had a pretty tricky Morris 1000 four door.

I raced against a moggy minor once & got my a** well & truly kicked round the lanes I was on a gs550 it turned out the guy was running a tuned 1800TC engine coil overs etc in a stock looking car

A few years later when i ws on my way to a rally i spotted him on the motorway & thought nows my chance (i'd moved up to a gs1000 by this time) ......... guess what ..............


....... he flew through 130mph from a rolling start of about 70 & kicked my a** again as i was leaving the services a while later he pulled in so i went over for a chat & found out he was running a 5. something l V8 rover engine
Ive now given up racing against tatty 1960's cars

[skip]

I just race poor unsuspecting blokes at red lights.
I've won and I've been beat.
Hoping to start at the Drag strip soon.

I have been to the drags a few times in the past few years, My adventures with fellow GSR members Ihanscom and Jethro have been documented here the past few years . I try not to race on the street these days, but sometimes it is just unavoidable This year there is a Kid at work with an 07 gsxr 1000 who wants to give the drag strip a try. If I can take advantage of his inexperience, I may just get lucky.

[skip]

Two stories, brief as possible:

When I was about 13 my father had a '76 F150 he used as a towing vehicle in his restoration business. It had a stage 1 460 and 4.11 limited slip gears. My old man was pretty damn competitive, and one day we were on a 4 lane rd, stoplight to stoplight thru town kind of thing, sitting at a light in the left lane with a built offroad truck on our right. Light changed, guy took off like a shot. With a cry of '*******!' my father sped up to prevent him passing fully, catching up at the next light staged just as before, only this is the last light in town and the road goes back to 2 lanes. At the green they both smoked the tires up and stayed dead even through first gear, then we hit second and the tires caught and just left the guy. My dad was so happy he bought me ice cream on the way home.

About 7 years I bought a '79 GL1000, that's a goldwing before they were a winnebago, for a song. Once I got it on the road I determined someone had changed the rear end gears, the bike redlined in 5th gear at 100mph. I don't know if it had any other mods, but it was stupid fast for the first 1/8th of a mile, then it ran out of revs. In central CT there is the berlin turnpike, a nice long stretch of light staged perfectly for stoplight racing. One evening I was heading up that way when a pack of crotch rockets caught me from behind. At the light it was the usual 'look at that old piece of crap' talk from the squibs, but when the light changed I left em like they were hitched. At the next light they were really keen to get a colser look so we pulled into dunkin donuts and they spent half an hour looking for the nitrous system that wasn't there.

Ahh yes the Berlin turnpke, the very place my story in post #1 took place. If you have been there you may have actually seen the barracuda I raced in the story I wrote in post #1. It was hemi orange a 1969 or 1968 coupe not a fastback. He was always at Roy rogers and Burger king on the pike.

[82Shafty]

I've run so many mickey mouse races (from a roll) in almost all of my cars that I've had, I wouldn't know where to begin.

The one dig race I had was against a beautiful blue c5 Vette. We went off of the light, I left at about 3500 on a Sportsman Pro at 18psi, and was out a car and a half in first, 3 cars by the end of second and had about 5 cars on this clown by the top of third. His vette was an auto.

Next match was against another c5 but this time a banger. I got the jump by about a half a car and rowing through four gears I managed a car and a half victory.

I was in my 93 Notch 'Stang which was good for a consistant 12.50's @ 109-110 with a slow, mid to high 1.7 60ft, but it did hook well on the street. It weighed in with driver at 3340. I've since thrown an S-trim blower on there at 8lbs and left it at 427 rear wheel horsepower for the time being. I lost interest in going down the track once I got the bike.

1100GLZ vs two, what appeared to be tricked out standard bikes.

I was coming home one night, beatiful summer night, about two summers ago to be exact, and I heard some ruckus up ahead of me. Two clowns on an off the throttle like it was going out of style. Well, I had never ran the GLZ against anyone or anything for that matter and I figured it was high time I saw what she was capable of. So, as I am trying to make my way through traffic along comes a Jesse James look alike on some crazy looking bike, so I am trying to give the guy a nod and he won't even acknowledge that I am along side him; this gets my adrenaline going. I drop it down to second and hammer it leaving one bling, bling ride behind and in doing so, I catch up to the two clowns. I've got their attention and in doing so the leader catches a break and walks out while me and his cronie are left waiting for traffic to clear. Now up ahead is a solid three miles of 4 lane tarmac, no intersection, no hidden drives, just sweet open road so I know this guy is going to go for it and as he does I'm already waiting. The second he cracked on his I was on mine and I actually had to let off a bit before reapplying WOT. I remember banging it up to the top of 4th and as I looked down I saw the tach just coming off of 9G and I was all over the guy which has now really got his attention, even with the 4" cog belt he has driving his ride.

We have now caught up to the head honcho and I see the second guy yelling something over to his buddy and his buddy is looking back at me but can't figure out what it is I am on. I did see that these cats were sporting the classic HD costumes and dew rags. They probably pinned me as some Fonzie ride with an old man fairing. We catch a light, he (the leader) acts super tough hanging his front tire a bit and so I follow suit lifting mine a good foot in the air in first. We catch another light and this time his buddy gives a nod and I see him move into the other lane to let me have a shot and the leader. As I casually move past the second guy he is checking my bike out hardcore, like a small child could have run out in front of him and he would have ran it over. As I approached the lead guy he never got on it, but the weird thing was his buddy stayed about 6 bikes back from mine and would not come back up until after I turned off.

Another bike race was my CB750F2 vs a viper. I was coming home from a night class that I was auditing and this bozo rev's his car at me. I thought he must be a real idiot because that viper should easily walk out on the old Honda, so sure enough we turn the corner I drop mine in first and he hits it, well, all the way up until 85 I was on his bumper where he let off of it, and as I know he would have walked away after that, but I bet he felt like an idiot for thinking he had an easy run.

[heathen]

not a race but worse. the first bike i had was a 72 cb750 4. one day going to my sisters house just outside of town sitting at the last red light in the right lane of a 4 lane road a green merc pulls up in the left lane. light turns green and i go as normal. i need to be in the left lane for a turn about 2 miles up so i start to accerate to get in front of the green merc. he speeds up with me and i finally have enough. gear down 2 steps and stand on the throttle. move over to the left lane and start to slow down for the turn when i hear a siren, look back and the green merc. has his flashers on and siren going. i think hell no and figure i'll lose him if i go straight with twisties just up ahead. hit the trottle again and i'm off (i was only 17 and didn't know no better). threw the twisties look back and he is way back there think i'm in the clear and over a hill is another left turn i can take. the only problem was a state trooper was sitting in the road i was going to turn on. needless to say the jig was up. the green merc. was the sargent of the dps. it was not cheap to keep my licsence. although they didn't take me to jail.

[82Shafty]

not a race but worse. the first bike i had was a 72 cb750 4. one day going to my sisters house just outside of town sitting at the last red light in the right lane of a 4 lane road a green merc pulls up in the left lane. light turns green and i go as normal. i need to be in the left lane for a turn about 2 miles up so i start to accerate to get in front of the green merc. he speeds up with me and i finally have enough. gear down 2 steps and stand on the throttle. move over to the left lane and start to slow down for the turn when i hear a siren, look back and the green merc. has his flashers on and siren going. i think hell no and figure i'll lose him if i go straight with twisties just up ahead. hit the trottle again and i'm off (i was only 17 and didn't know no better). threw the twisties look back and he is way back there think i'm in the clear and over a hill is another left turn i can take. the only problem was a state trooper was sitting in the road i was going to turn on. needless to say the jig was up. the green merc. was the sargent of the dps. it was not cheap to keep my licsence. although they didn't take me to jail.

You were in a heap of trouble son.

[argonsagas]

Well , it wasn't really a race,but....... Back in the day I had a pretty tricky Morris 1000 four door.I'm sure our non American brothers will know the one.I was running a fair bit of MG and Mini Cooper gear.The body was all done,big wheels,flared guards,paint etc etc,so she looked a treat.I was on my way to old mates place to get the 2 barrel Weber set up and the car was running like a dog.Drowning in fuel.The carb was nearly the same size as the engine.I stop at a set of lights and had to keep blipping the throttle to keep it running when along side pulls a school bus.Shades of the Simpsons here.All the kids are hanging out the windows winding me up and bus driver dude gets into it and starts blipping the bus.This is going to be bad.Lights change and off we go.The bus starts to pull away from my coughing and spluttering Morry and as each window passes me,the little barst#rds are laughung and spitting on me.The shame,the shame.Funny now but not then.Once old mate sorted jetting etc,the Morry flew,but do you think I could find that f#####g bus again....... Cheers,Simon.

I had one of those!
Mine was a parts car for the bug-eye Sprite, while a friend had his Morris done up beneath the hood. We chose parts from a variety of manufacturers, modified to fit where necessary, (I seem to recall Ford sodium-filled valves) and had the milling/porting/polishing/ boring work done professionally, but all else was done in my garage. Sadly, he had a soft-walled engine and it wore quickly and blew.

The Sprite was the opposite: the block was unbreakable, although with the Holley 2BBL mounted, and an idle of 1800 RPM, rod and main bearings were gone in 2500 miles, tops, despite the modified oil galleries and high volume pump.

I often suspected that came from running it well above 8000 RPM, (it easily pinned the needle on the racing tach) but no one ever caught up to me to confirm it.

[bwringer]

Squids-r-FUN!

A GS850 with my fat arse on top of it is obviously not going to beat much of anything in a straight line.

But when the going gets twisty, suddenly the sportybikes get smaller and smaller in my rear view mirrors. Or the numbnuts on the GSXRCBNinjaWhatever up ahead is riding his little heart out, just as hard as he can, sticking his little knee out, using up all the road, and somehow still can't lose the fat guy on the old bike with all the luggage strapped onto it.

The game is called squid hunting, folks, and it's more and more fun the older and slower your bike is compared to your prey. 99% of the eedjits on two wheels simply don't know how to ride.


Just one typical story:

I'm headed home from the first GS rally in North Carolina, fully loaded with camping equipment. I've detoured to US 421 between Boone, NC and Bristol TN specifically to enjoy the insane twisties as 421 wriggles over two large mountain ridges. It's like Deals Gap, but more remote and it goes on for 40 miles.

I start to get into the first part, and soon catch up to a tight pack of squids. Late-model sportbikes, loud exhausts, no skills. I get bored at their modest pace and start hinting to the guy in back that I'd like to play through -- miming the act of nose picking, leaning one arm on the tank, waving happily, etc. He finally spots me, and they attempt to wick it up a notch. They're all over the road, blasting the less wiggly bits as hard as they can, but they can't seem to shake the idiot in the happy yellow helmet with about 80 pounds of luggage. I even slow to a virtual stop and let them gain on me, then come blasting back to haunt their fenders three times. Their frustration is growing visibly...

We finally get to the flat, straight bit between the two mountain ridges (about ten miles of road), and they immediately yank the throttle wires (their only skill, apparently) and blast off at well over 100mph. I plonk along somewhere near the speed limit, happy for the assistance with flushing out any officers that might be lurking along the way.

No police appear, but about 1/3 of the way up the next ridge, I catch up to the slow train again and re-start my program of boiling the squids. I'm not doing anything dangerous or getting close to them, but they're visibly angry. Twice, I pull over and stop completely, take a short snooze, and then catch them again.

When they stop at the Dairy Queen, three or four of them are shaking visibly, and one is bent over trying not to vomit from fright. All look up and glare angrily as I wave and continue on my way. Probably best not to stop for a cone just then...

[spyug]

I haven't been riding bikes long enough to get into a race and street racing is now seriously frowned upon in our province. Back in the day, however, street racing was the norm specially Friday or Saturday nights.

As a youngster, I was in to Limey sportscars and had everything from MGs to Triumphs to Jags and my personal favs Lotus Elans. My first street ride by the way was a Morris Minor which my dad and I tweaked with a bigger carb and header. But I digress.

In my early twenties I start working and bought my first Elan. 1970 Elan +2. I'm out cruising one Saturday night and racing anything with 4 wheels.
Feeling cocky, I'm taking everything from the light to at least 4 or 5 car lengths past the intersection. That sucka was damn quick and the secret was in the hydrolastic suspension. Rubber donuts linking the diff and rear axles. You could wind it up at rest and slip the clutch on go and it was like a slingshot.

So I meet this Vet with a dude and his lady. I blow him off three lights in a row and we stop at the next. Windows down, the guy's looking red in the face and chickee is diggin my groove ( as we used to say). He leans out the window and shouts over, "What is that thing and what are you running?" Me being a **** fires back, " If you don't don't know and have to ask you're a major wanker!" The fight is on.

He's revving the Vet and I'm winding the +2. The light changes and he's off in a cloud of smoke from his burning tires. The Elan goes nowhere.
I stomped so hard on the go peddle I pulled the throttle cable right out of the carb linkage. I had no tools to fix it so I had to ride home about 25 miles on the choke Talk about feeling like a edjit.

There are many more stupid events but for some reason, that one sticks in my mind.

Oh to be young again

Cheers,
Spyug

[Russ' GS1000E]

Idiots

Well, nothing like a story to define ones own stupidity.

Circa 1979 or so:
My buddy Al had an Yamaha RD400, a two stroke twin.
I had my GS550E, with 4:1 exhaust, K&Ns & self Re-Jet, Shock upgrade....

We had a regular party night at Timothy's on Rt9 in Framingham MA.
There were good bands, like Oak, that played at Timothy's.
However, we were Geeks. We hung out in back room and played pin-ball all night, and drank beer. Timo's awarded a free beer for a Pin-Ball high score.

After Timo's, we would get on our scooters, and cruise out of the lot, onto Rt9 east, and down to the light in front of the big apartments across from the lake. This would warm up our engines.

The traffic light was the starting signal for our 'race' back to my house in Saxonville.

Now, this normally wasn't a real race, just a couple of idiots riding fast after a long evening and a few beers. However, we were fully aware of the folly. We called this activity, 'The Death Ride'.

So, this night we roared away from the light in our mock race, up Rt9 at speed, and this guy on a Benelli Sei blew by us going real fast. We chased him and he took our turn-off ramp toward Saxonville. We barely kept up with this six cylinder Benelli for many miles and twists until it blew-up, smoke spewing, and its owner coasted to the roadside. We rode by and celebrated our race win in Saxonville.

[feelergaugephil]

Ok, I have not spoken of this for many, many years, and you must remember I was 20 at the time and had no brains back then.........................
I used to live in UK and me and mate were riding upto the lake district, I was on a GS1000 and my mate on Z1000, we were so cool back then, I couldn't afford a Simpson bandit back then so I had a plastic laser helmet that kind of resembled something out of space.....

Anyway, we come flying down the A65 up towards lake Windermere and traffic is slowing down, so we are lane splitting and we come up behind a white BMW (bike) so we slow down thinking it's a cop, we slowly get up behind him and we can't make it if it's a cop or not.

So we get into stand still traffic and he kindly waves us by, we slowly get past him and its a cop!!!
He follows us for a while, then we get to Kirkstone pass (amazing road leading up thru the mountains) as we start to climb (speed limit 60) he pulls along side me, looks at me and shouts wanna race, he then takes off in front!!!!!

In for a penny in for a pound!!!

I drop 2 gears and haul a$$ after him, after about .5 mile Im behind him, then me and my mate overtake him at warp factor 6 and we start to leave him, he then puts on his blue lights and sirens...... OH shoot! are we gonna stop? or ride on???????
We're doing like 90, I start laughing with my nerves and adrenaline pumping!
Fux it! I'm running!.......................................... ......

We start making a good distance, we're passing all the holiday makers with their caravans and other touristy folks, then I see coming toward me a Volvo T5 police car with it's blue lights on........... oh shoot!
He slows right down then attempts to block the road, my mate and I lean over sharply and take him from the right and get passed him,,,,,,,,
Now, I am freaking out, what turned out to be a bit of fun is gonna get us put in jail.
I'm frantic now, which makes me power on even more..........

There we are hauling a$$ through lake Coniston area with other drivers swerving out the way to let these 2 crazy a$$ motorcycles come through.....

(Man I was so bad those days)

Anyway, about 3 miles along we see a police land rover blocking the road now, oh crap!!!
We slow down and the cop runs at me and tries to push me off.........
(now there is a brown mess coming from within my pants and down my leg) I manage to get around him and so does my mate.......

We thrash our bikes to a little town called Shap, a lovely countryside village, which is quiet! well, not so quiet with us two lunatics riding through, we come around some tight bends and I see an open gate leading to a field, we turn sharply into this field and with our feet down haul a$$ to the end into the wooded area, we get into the woods and cut the engines.................................

My mate is ****ting himself (along with me) and he's trying light his benson and hedges *@%^$*@%^$*@%^$ on his exhaust down pipe (lost his lighter somewhere)
We sit there for 10 mins then all we hear is sirens all over then a bloody helicopter hovering around, man, we were ghost white thinking we are going to jail..............

We stayed in those woods for 7 hours!!!!!!!!!! we did not move a muscle, just sitting there quiet whispering to each other............
After 7 hrs, we walked up to the town (it's now 11 at night) it's deserted, so we walk back to our bikes and start them up and ride out of the farmers field and up to the A6.....

Eventually we got to the M6 and rode home back to Manchester....
We never told a sole about that and was kept secret for many many years.......

Like I said, I was a younger tool back then and thought I was invincible, and should have stopped for the police bike when he wanted us, he probably wanted to chat with us anyway!

[marvinsc]

What is it You do for a living again Phil?

[feelergaugephil]

What is it You do for a living again Phil?

shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

[p_s]

My mate is ****ting himself (along with me) and he's trying light his benson and hedges *@%^$*@%^$*@%^$ on his exhaust down pipe (lost his lighter somewhere)
We sit there for 10 mins then all we hear is sirens all over then a bloody helicopter hovering around, man, we were ghost white thinking we are going to jail..............

Game, set, match.