Camp Fire Stories
- Thread starter rezrider
- Start date
Yea...don't make me tell another one.....
OK, you talked me into it.............Back in my/our quad tard days we (several families) were out on the dry lake bed below Calico. We went on a cruise across the DL then came back skirting it which ran alongside a wash that runs parallel with the 15 FW. The dirt road had a few puddles on it which enticed my buddy to do some roosting...after failing to get me any ever try he decided to go "deeper" into the next (last) puddle where he kiced the rear end out, and over-corrected it by turning to sharp causing him to highside directly into the puddle...it was an epic "slow motion DUMP! Face plant into the muck, he gets up, helmet, jersey, gloves covered with mud. We get back to camp, he washes off the helmet...(simple), changes shirts...(simple), gloves...not sure what to do with them yet! Later on in the evening because it was fall his gloves were still wet soooooo he decides to put his gloves on a rock next to the "raging inferno" we had going...I think it took all of 10 minutes before the finger tips were burned off....
Not a great story but a trip that wasn't without a little unexpected activity...The crash was the best part though! 
ok i guess ill tell one here.
when i was a child about 2 times a year we would meet up with family who had a garage full of toys to go camping and
. Well i always got put on the hay hauler quads as i was pretty inexperienced. My cousin who was a few years younger then me was a pretty good rider and he rode pretty much every weekend. So we are about to head out on a trip and some of the adults tell me DON'T try to race roy. I say OK and off we go. Everything is going good and we are having a fun ride when we get into this wash that had lots of tracks from previous riders already. My cousin gets on it and is starting to leave me as i can barely see his dust around the next curve. So i get on it thinking i cant let my YOUNGER cousin just dust me like this. Next thing i know is my tires got into someone elses track and the quad was so big and i was so small it felt like riding one of those Disneyland car rides where you are on a set track. BAMMMM right into this really thick thorny bush. I was ok and no one was there to see me do it so i put it in reverse back out and on my way i go with the plan of not telling anyone i crashed. So i get back to camp and i do exactly that, i try to play it off like nothing happened. one of the adults asks me if i crashed and i say NO. then someone pulls out a mirror and i take a look at my face... i had a perfect circle of a bunch of scratches right were the opening of the helmet was. 
when i was a child about 2 times a year we would meet up with family who had a garage full of toys to go camping and
. Well i always got put on the hay hauler quads as i was pretty inexperienced. My cousin who was a few years younger then me was a pretty good rider and he rode pretty much every weekend. So we are about to head out on a trip and some of the adults tell me DON'T try to race roy. I say OK and off we go. Everything is going good and we are having a fun ride when we get into this wash that had lots of tracks from previous riders already. My cousin gets on it and is starting to leave me as i can barely see his dust around the next curve. So i get on it thinking i cant let my YOUNGER cousin just dust me like this. Next thing i know is my tires got into someone elses track and the quad was so big and i was so small it felt like riding one of those Disneyland car rides where you are on a set track. BAMMMM right into this really thick thorny bush. I was ok and no one was there to see me do it so i put it in reverse back out and on my way i go with the plan of not telling anyone i crashed. So i get back to camp and i do exactly that, i try to play it off like nothing happened. one of the adults asks me if i crashed and i say NO. then someone pulls out a mirror and i take a look at my face... i had a perfect circle of a bunch of scratches right were the opening of the helmet was. ok i guess ill tell one here.
when i was a child about 2 times a year we would meet up with family who had a garage full of toys to go camping and
...I know why you didn't want to say you crashed however..........for what ever reason we felt it was like a badge of honor to admit to crashing! as it is here, they made for great campfire stories...we still reminice about the "old days"...Either we were too wreckless, adventerous or I'm just plain old cuz I still have stories to tell................I've told a few in other threads but belong here!
it was a "im gonna be in trouble thing" it wasnt my bike and i did exactly what they told me NOT to do.
My brother gave me his bike (72 Husky 400...MINT condition) to ride so I could blow all my buddies away....Mind you I've never ridden his bike before, I rode a 125 at the time so a big bore was let's say...new to me. While out horsing around one day at a campground riding park/area we decided to do a little racing...1 on a TM125, his bro on a TM250 and I was on the 400 (all of us under 18 Y/O) with a few others mixed in...I was in the middle of the pack when they decided to take off so I did a little catching up passing all of them, the last one to pass was in mid air....To make a long story short I went too fast, got too much air and wound up eating shit. WHen I got home he was eager to ask how I did...I tol him I did great, I beat the guys but wound up crashing the bike...he came out and looked at it still in the truck...broke off the kickstand, bent the chrome steel fender up like a scorpion stinger, bent the rear rim needless to say flattened the tire...didn't bend the bars which amazed all of us...he said "not bad as long as you beat those guys...so when you gonna fix it"? I looked at him like this
, shrugged my shoulders and walked away........my dad stepped in just at the right moment 
and told him it'd be taken care of! Took me a while to work that one off!Great stories everybody is sharing here. I hope everybody keeps a few in their pocket for when we run into each other in the dez.
I remember when I was 4 and we did not not have a little bike at the time to teach me how to ride on so my Dad thought it would be a good deal to threw me on his Yami 360. He would get on the back and get me going into third gear becuase I couldn't reach the pegs to shift or use the rear break. So when we got into third, I would slow down and he would jump off the back and off I went. I would ride all over the desert in third and when I was done I would circle camp yelling for my Dad. He would then come out and run along side of me and reach over and crab the clutch and stop me.
I remember climbing this hill once and when I got to the top I went to turn around and tipped over. I could actually get the bike up and on the "kick stand" and crawl up on the bike an wait. So this guy comes along and I stop him. I told him my situation and told him how to get me going. After he got rid of this face. he jumped on the back. I told Him to get me down the hill and when we are in 3rd gear, I will slow down and he will jump off the back. We get to the bottom and I say ok jump. He bails off the back and cartwheels in the dirt. I yell "thank you" and head on back to camp.
My Dad and I were just bench racing that story lastnight. I am so glad my dad exposed me to bikes.
I remember when I was 4 and we did not not have a little bike at the time to teach me how to ride on so my Dad thought it would be a good deal to threw me on his Yami 360. He would get on the back and get me going into third gear becuase I couldn't reach the pegs to shift or use the rear break. So when we got into third, I would slow down and he would jump off the back and off I went. I would ride all over the desert in third and when I was done I would circle camp yelling for my Dad. He would then come out and run along side of me and reach over and crab the clutch and stop me.
I remember climbing this hill once and when I got to the top I went to turn around and tipped over. I could actually get the bike up and on the "kick stand" and crawl up on the bike an wait. So this guy comes along and I stop him. I told him my situation and told him how to get me going. After he got rid of this face.
he jumped on the back. I told Him to get me down the hill and when we are in 3rd gear, I will slow down and he will jump off the back. We get to the bottom and I say ok jump. He bails off the back and cartwheels in the dirt. I yell "thank you" and head on back to camp. My Dad and I were just bench racing that story lastnight. I am so glad my dad exposed me to bikes.
Great stories everybody is sharing here. I hope everybody keeps a few in their pocket for when we run into each other in the dez.
I remember when I was 4 and we did not not have a little bike at the time to teach me how to ride on so my Dad thought it would be a good deal to threw me on his Yami 360. He would get on the back and get me going into third gear becuase I couldn't reach the pegs to shift or use the rear break. So when we got into third, I would slow down and he would jump off the back and off I went. I would ride all over the desert in third and when I was done I would circle camp yelling for my Dad. He would then come out and run along side of me and reach over and crab the clutch and stop me.
I remember climbing this hill once and when I got to the top I went to turn around and tipped over. I could actually get the bike up and on the "kick stand" and crawl up on the bike an wait. So this guy comes along and I stop him. I told him my situation and told him how to get me going. After he got rid of this face.
My Dad and I were just bench racing that story lastnight. I am so glad my dad exposed me to bikes.
too cool man too cool!!!
Great stories everybody is sharing here. I hope everybody keeps a few in their pocket for when we run into each other in the dez.
I remember when I was 4 and we did not not have a little bike at the time to teach me how to ride on so my Dad thought it would be a good deal to threw me on his Yami 360. He would get on the back and get me going into third gear becuase I couldn't reach the pegs to shift or use the rear break. So when we got into third, I would slow down and he would jump off the back and off I went. I would ride all over the desert in third and when I was done I would circle camp yelling for my Dad. He would then come out and run along side of me and reach over and crab the clutch and stop me.
I remember climbing this hill once and when I got to the top I went to turn around and tipped over. I could actually get the bike up and on the "kick stand" and crawl up on the bike an wait. So this guy comes along and I stop him. I told him my situation and told him how to get me going. After he got rid of this face.
My Dad and I were just bench racing that story lastnight. I am so glad my dad exposed me to bikes.
that is funny about the guy who helped you 
I for one welcome our new creepy knome overloards.