Crashes - How I got the name MrCrash

I like to think Crashing is Learning... the hard way. There are easier ways. That being said, here's a history of my learning experiences:

1. Racquet Club Circle, Rohnert Park: With all the riding experience of about half an hour on a YSR50, my friend Rex invited me over to his place to watch some 500GP videos and to check out his piped and jetted Ninja 250. I hopped on the bike for a couple of laps around the apartment complex, and was instantly hooked to my first taste of sportbike power. Mountain bike experience had me romp on the rear brake as I got into a corner too hot, gently lowsiding the little Ninjette. Damage was limited to all of a broken turn signal.

2. San Luis Obispo: My Junior year roomate purchased a used SRX250, which he barely used. I had been using it for some backroad strafing, and had seen a squiggly line on the map leading out of the southern part of the city. It turned to a dirt road, which did not deter me. Previous crashing experience had taught me that using too much rear brake would cause me to crash, upon believing an oncoming vehicle laid around the corner, I applied the front brake. Again, minimal damage, but minimal safety equipment had me "gravel rashed" for a few weeks.

3. Santa Rosa Creek Road, Cambria: I had owned my ZX-6 for around a year, my aggressive backroad riding had me leading the Cal Poly Penguins street ride up Santa Rosa Creek Road. Cresting the road, I was riding the front brake down a steep slope, when I hit a pothole, bottoming the front suspension instantly, bucking me up and over the handlebars. Minimal damage (primarily a bent fairing bracket and broken turn signal) had me back and on the bike (and leading the remainder of the ride), but minimal safety equipment (jeans, helmet, Motoport "Canyon" jacket without the liner, and "summer gloves") had me tending to my wounds for the better part of two weeks.

4. Gellert Drive, Daly City: On my way north for Spring Break, I had stopped off for pork buns right around the intersection of Gellert and Westborough, and headed on my way for the Hickey onramp. Poor visibility had me noticing a stop sign at the last instant, and I had thought my self perceived "excellent" braking skills would have been good enough to stop me in time. I didn't have to stop, it was a challenge, a test of sorts. I failed, the result was a cracked engine case.

5. CA-33, Ojai: It was summer vacation, I had just gotten out of school and was enjoying myself a bit too much. Heading south on the southern section of the road found me stuck behind a slow moving truck, I went for the stuff in the transition and challenged myself to make the latter half of the transition without using my brakes. Knee, footpeg, and toe already to the floor, I decided to see if I could lean it over a bit more, "like they do on TV" I thought in my head. Getting on the gas just lightly resulted in the back end coming around, a totally new sensation to me. Speed was approximately 50-60 mph, the fairing, front end, and subframe of the bike were completely destroyed.

6. CA-1, Mill Valley: I was my second attempt at participating in the infamous "Sunday Morning Ride". I generally stayed somewhere in the middle of the group of 50 or so riders, generally the most dangerous part of a group due to the overabundance of aggression and corresponding lack of skill. A mile or so in up from Mill Valley, a falled riders warned us of a coolant spill, which stretched on for several miles. I focused primarily on the spill on the ascent, until the rider in front of me came on the brakes hard, making my eyes leave the road for an instant, which found me in the middle of the coolant spill. The back end came around and I was unable to save it, resulting in a gentle, slow (under 15 mph ) lowside.

7. 19th Avenue, San Francisco: There were three lanes of traffic available, the rightmost lane was open and the light had turned green for approximately 2-3 seconds. I switched to the right lane when a VERY late red light runner crossed traffic and stopped directly in my path. It was impossible to stop, I lost it on the brakes, lowsiding it very gently (maybe 15 mph max). The car proceeded to roll forward and partially on top of my fallen steed, at which point I began violently striking the windows of the vehicle, screaming at the top of my lungs at the 50-60 year old driver, who looked absolutely petrified. Neglecting to insure my vehicle made it impossible for me to claim any damages (dented tank, bent handlebar, broken clutch lever), the bike was converted to racebike soon afterwards.

8. Sears Point, Sonoma: It was my first race, I was reeling in veteran Cabo rider and fellow novice Rob Hardy towards the back of the midpackers (after a miserable start, a result of getting bottled up on the inside of Turn 1) when suddenly a Formula 40 front runner decided he had priority over me heading into what is still one of my least favorite turns on the track - the Turn 12 chicane. I end up getting rammed through, destroying the front end of the motorcycle, giving me a light concussion, and 15 or so stitches in the back of my leg due to what was believed to be the footpeg.

9. Sears Point, Sonoma: I felt good, got a good start, and had already picked off 15 or so positions within four turns from the start, I was gridded around 30th. Getting ready to zap an expert rider on the brakes into four, I changed my line to go to the inside when he suddenly hit the brakes. Way early. Braking hard to avoid him, the front wheel seemed to turn under the force, tucking and hastily dumping me on my ass. I somersaulted down the track in front of the 15 or so riders I had just passed, showering them with sparks from my titanium exhaust. $400 which lasted me all of two races. My season was done.

10. Highway 92, Foster City: Some guy on an old Katana comes by my parking lot at a pretty good clip and heads for the freeway onramp. I catch up to him quickly thinking "I'll show him a thing or two" in the long sweeper from the fashion island mall. I showed him alright.

11. Highway 9, Skyline: Heading down from the top towards Boulder Creek, leading a group of three riders. Right, left, right, short chute to left kink, followed quickly by a second kink. The front goes on the second kink, sending me and a tumbling 500 pound ZX-6 into the guardrail at around 70 mph. I bounce off the guardrail and into the bike following me, denting in his exhaust can. Amazingly, I walk (limp) away from that crash, but paramedics and ongoing cars force me to lay down. The bike is beyond totalled, as was my bank account due to my Dad's insurance company dumping me upon learning about the incident. "Too old for the policy" they say. Yet a couple months earlier, I'm not too old for coverage for a "mountain bike accident". Discriminatory bastards.

12. Sears Point, Sonoma: Struggling to make up for a bad start, no practice, and no sleep, I make the typical novice error of charging into a corner too hard and being aggressive with the bars. The front tire didn't like that, down I went at 90 or so mph, tumbling into the grass.

13. Thunderhill, Willows: Last lap of the day, I decided to make it a really good one, but a fuel starvation problem caused my bike to hiccup in the fastest turn on the track, causing me to lose concentration and run wide. The runoff in the Turn 8 area had not yet been groomed, as I found a trough to hit which catapulted me off the bike and into the soft dirt.

14. Thunderhill, Willows: Making up for a mediocre start, I had moved up into 3rd place in the 500 Twins race. Blocked by a backmarker going into Turn 1, I lose two positions by Turn 2, I see my chances at a podium or potential win slipping away fast, and force the issue to retake 4th. I charge on the outside line in Turn 3, lose the front, and lose my chances at my first podium.

15. Sears Point, Sonoma: Holding 6th place and top 500 Twin on the last lap of the 450 Superbike race, I set up to go wide around a backmarker and lose the front about halfway through Turn 2. I tried really hard to save it, attempting to pick it up on my knee all the way to the outside edge of the track, at which point I realized it was all pretty much in vain as I "abandoned ship".

16. Thunderhill, Willows: Former 250 Superbike champion Roque Torres and I go back and forth in practice, as I take the lead on the front straight I decide that I would show him what I could do by putting my head down for a lap. Unfortunately, I put my head, ass, and bike down, all on the entrance to the Cyclone as I missed my marker on the entrance and tucked the front at the crest.

17. Prairie City, Sacramento: Does this really count? One of the YSR race school instructors tells the group in the track walk to approach a hairpin turn wide, and then throw the bike on it's cases. I threw the bike on it's cases alright...

18. Sears Point, Sonoma: Fellow 650 Twins rider Dale Palmer attempts to put in a hot lap early in practice, I'm in pursuit and decide to show him a thing or two in the Carousel. A 100 mph endo at the crest of the Carousel results in the inability to steer the bike in. Already heading off the track, I make the split second decision to abandon ship as the bike heads for a tirewall at about 60 mph.

19. Buttonwillow Park, Buttonwillow: First lap of the first morning practice, one of the open class riders who shall remain nameless forces me wide in the first corner. I had to decide between standing the bike up and heading off the track, or trying to scrub off speed and make the corner. I went for the latter and tucked the front.

20. Willow Springs International Raceway, Rosamond: I swap tires before my first race, 550 Superbike, and get the warmers on for about 5 minutes. They need to be on for 30 minutes. Trying to be careful yet aggressive on a cold morning, the green flag drops and I'm in second place. This is on Sunday morning, in Southern California. Next thing I know, it's Wednesday night and I'm in front of my house in Fremont. Evidently I highsided out after taking the lead of the race, knocking myself out cold for 10 minutes after landing on my head. The next two weeks are equally as hazy in my memory.

21. Laguna Seca, Monterey: I'm last off the line of the AMA Pro Thunder race in a field of 40 riders, due to clutch problems. Hell, the bike just came together the night before, in typical Solis fashion. I pick my way back to around 20th place, and measure up a Ducati 748 coming through the Rainey Turn. The biggest weapon in my arsenal was strong entry and midcorner speed through Turn 9, driving around the outside of other riders to outbrake them into Turn 10. Loaded the front a little too much, down she went.

22. Willow Springs International Raceway, Rosamond: I get a horrible start after bogging the bike on the line, and charge back to midfield after two laps. Trying to carry my speed through Turn 4 to possibly challenge into Turn 5, the front just came out, no warning. So much for thinking I could milk another race out of that front tire. I pulled the same crap at Laguna. Never again. I'm more pissed at the fact that I was sporting a brand new set of custom Kushitanis (retail 2800 for the suit) and freshly painted and repaired bodywork on the racebike. I guess the theory about new leathers attracting pavement held true.

23. Thunderhill Park, Willows: Struggling with my suspension all weekend, I ended up relaxing and showing a friend around, when the AFM 450 Superbike class champion comes by on his RVF400. I decide to chase, the front ends up chattering a bit on the entrance to turn 10, I question whether or not there's enough track for me to make the turn. Deciding against keeping the bike leaned over on the tiger's teeth, I stand the bike up and go for the run off, which was a hell of a lot bumpier than I expected. No damage, outside of to my confidence.

24. Thunderhill Park, Willows: My first time on EBH HH brake pads. Got a little hot on the approach to Turn 9, and tried to trailbrake in a little deeper to scrub the speed. I wasn't used to the off / on nature of the EBCs, locked the front, and down I went.

25. Stockton Motorplex, Stockton: Wet track. Slicks. Boatloads of entry speed on the CRF250X I was borrowing. Bad combination.

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