Maybe a .50 Browning mounted on the handlebars.
That's exactly the sort of shit that finally made my park my beloved old Bimmer—too many close calls.
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I always described riding a nice fast bike as like having a fighter plane with no missiles.
As miles and time accumulate , it happens less . Not that there are fewer dipshits in the cages around you , but you learn what to watch for . This spring's hair-raising story will become a "meh" by next fall .
Going to jury duty, and parking in the recommended structure... not having the correct (cash) change. Post Office at the bottom floor will not let me change the $100 I have in my pocket, or let mr but anything.
ATM broken at the courthouse. Expecting a $50 parking ticket, minimum.
This is my fault, of course, and being pissed off about it means I have an attitude problem. FUCK YOU DENVER!
:rant:
Hindsight Quarterbacks! Hate it and guilty of it too!
I got a big horn too. lulz. I just haven't figured out how I want to mount it.
Why I never took up riding. Seems that each and every time friends' words of encouragement to me that, "I'm old and mature enough to be safe on a bike" I've heard a story that says, no, you're never THAT old. It's those 4 wheeled monsters out there.
Not making excuses for them, but bikes are very, very hard to see...and when you add the factor of idiot drivers....well...
I'd be better off just buying a Saturday night special and playing russian roulette. It's cheaper and safer to others.
Dammit -- I'd LOVE riding...but I like living and having the use of my limbs better.