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Barf Stories: Tell all while we still live

Butch said:
Someone needs to re-create the story of one of us who inadvertently flew past the Nevada highway patrol on Pole Line and they proceeded chasing the invader. We all got to the hotel and played hide and seek. No, we just chilled and said huh? That wasn’t us. We would never run. We are grown-ups.
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It would be a good movie story.. :laughing

Nobody asked but I will finish the story. :teeth

After the group settled a bit and is really wondering WTF.
Another couple of riders roll in. We shall call them the Runner and the Ticketed.
One of a rally attendees whom has a law enforcement background went to the NHP and asked what was up. The story was that the Runner had left a CHP behind and was running to Nevada so the NHP was waiting. What they got was some OG's who's bikes and outfits did not match the description provided by the CHP. The group was closely scrutinized for sure.

The Runner was informed they were being looked for and they quickly entered a Motel room and stayed put.
The description was off enough... red Honda... and the Runner's Honda was black with red accents and slipped past the NVP scrutiny. After a while and the continued bike reviews the NVP left and the Runner was sprung from their room.

We came to find out that the Runner and the Ticketed were followed off 395 onto Poleline and when they wicked it up to check if their sprockets were correct the Runner being on a faster bike left the CHP cruiser behind and the Ticketed on bike with a much lower top speed was left to oblige the flashy lights and pull over. They received an appropriate excessive speed ticket and then carried on towards Hawthorne. The Runner never saw the flashy lights being focused on the road ahead.

Turns out the adrenalated Runner had turned around as I noted to go see what happened to the Ticketed. After a while the Runner found the Ticketed riding towards town and turned around to join them. Turns out the NVP snare caught only the old guys and when they followed to the Motel the snare was snapped and the Runner and the Ticketed slipped into the Motel. Being worried about their friend and turning around had kept the Runner from the snare. They likely would have been nabbed if they stayed with the OG's.

After the story came to full light the Runner was aptly named the Runner by some BARF dude to the applause and laughter of other attendess.

One for the history books. :ride
 
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Thanks budman.. The NVP trying to interrogate us OGs poolside was pretty funny
 
budman said:
It would be a good movie story.. :laughing

Nobody asked but I will finish the story. :teeth

After the group settled a bit and is really wondering WTF.
Another couple of riders roll in. We shall call them the Runner and the Ticketed.
One of a rally attendees whom has a law enforcement background went to the NHP and asked what was up. The story was that the Runner had left a CHP behind and was running to Nevada so the NHP was waiting. What they got was some OG's who's bikes and outfits did not match the description provided by the CHP. The group was closely scrutinized for sure.

The Runner was informed they were being looked for and they quickly entered a Motel room and stayed put.
The description was off enough... red Honda... and the Runner's Honda was black with red accents and slipped past the NVP scrutiny. After a while and the continued bike reviews the NVP left and the Runner was sprung from their room.

We came to find out that the Runner and the Ticketed were followed off 395 onto Poleline and when they wicked it up to check if their sprockets were correct the Runner being on a faster bike left the CHP cruiser behind and the Ticketed on bike with a much lower top speed was left to oblige the flashy lights and pull over. They received an appropriate excessive speed ticket and then carried on towards Hawthorne. The Runner never saw the flashy lights being focused on the road ahead.

Turns out the adrenalated Runner had turned around as I noted to go see what happened to the Ticketed. After a while the Runner found the Ticketed riding towards town and turned around to join them. Turns out the NVP snare caught only the old guys and when they followed to the Motel the snare was snapped and the Runner and the Ticketed slipped into the Motel. Being worried about their friend and turning around had kept the Runner from the snare. They likely would have been nabbed if they stayed with the OG's.

After the story came to full light the Runner was aptly named the Runner by some BARF dude to the applause and laughter of other attendess.

One for the history books. :ride
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I remember that day, that story....:teeth
 
ThumperX said:
I’m still waiting for CJ our master storyteller to recount the Stonybarf encounter with the Psycho Axe Wielder.
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Of the nude female side by side owner who wanted to pull me into her master of the toy hauler to thank me after? :laughing

That wknd was full of stories. Psycho Axe Wielding meth head, the Sheriffs not so subtle suggestion, disarming the psycho, driving him "over the hill" in the back seat of my Land Rover between a couple of armed barf members, and a shovel at his feet on the floor. I think a "strong message" was sent..... as he we never saw him again. :angel
 
Sounds like some good stories. How about telling one :twofinger

What is the story with the Psycho Axe Wielding meth head?? :teeth.

Hope it was not a barfer!!
My bad. That was a machete. :p
 
Its perhaps a better story in person as to not incriminate anyone, or hear the wrath of some folks of a different mindset. (The outline of sorts is there,)
 
OaklandF4i said:
Its perhaps a better story in person as to not incriminate anyone, or hear the wrath of some folks of a different mindset. (The outline of sorts is there,)
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StonyBARF in May!
 
@OaklandF4i how about you tell the side by side story and how Dmitry caught the eye of the animal control officer
 
N4teTheGreat said:
Seems like SxS operators generate a lot of stories at Stony
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It was a single side by side operated by 2 very high and very horny women from a different camp. They were hell bent on picking up some similarity horned up dirt biker. The only real offering we had for them was Dina, always a team player.
There’s a story there but I’m not sure how it ended. Dmitry stars in a lot of my barf stories but they’re his stories too and I am simply an observer.
 
It's a Saturday and the group is catching our breath in the parking lot of a now burned out lodge in BFE during a Kernville rally. A rough looking dude comes down out of the woods on one of those one wheel hover board. He admires our bikes and we admire his wheel. I talk him into jumping a ramp. I construct a ramp out of a half burned chunk of plywood and some other random pieces of wood. He catches air a few times and we all cheer. He then tells us of a lunch spot at a small community down the road. We proceed down the road to said lunch spot, have a great visit with a few locals and go on our way.
 
There was a new BARFer that started hanging around the SF Pig and Whistle crew for a New York minute. The only two things I remember about him is that he had an eye brow piercing that he kept a sewing needle in. We were all amazed that he could get his helmet on and off without disturbing it or snagging it in the liner. The other thing I remember is that we hazed him so hard he quit coming around. (2006 U.B.O.B wasn't the kindler gentler thing it is today). His screen name was "Against All Odds" but he spelled it GNSTALODZ.

So we called him "Gangsta Loads".


Mercilessly.

I often wonder what happened to that guy. He was a pretty cool kid. Rode a black R6 if memory serves. Had a Justin Nozuka (mixed race anglo asian-adjacent) look to him that made some of the Barfettes swoon. (Namely Jenny from P&W)



There was another guy, I met on a road trip. He said he was looking to be a motorcycle travel writer. As I had a blog, I already considered myself a motorcycle travel writer :p and asked about his M.O.. He said he puts his bike on a trailer. Trailers it to "X" location, and rides around looking for adventure. I told him you need to ride to "x" location because traveling is how you stumble into adventure. Y'know, the whole "bad days make good stories" theory of adventuring.

I had a trip planned and invited him along. We met up, and it turns out my iron butt and his satin ass aren't a good match for travel days so he bailed at the end of day 1. I was not bummed out about that as I felt like I had cast off an anchor that was holding me up.

A few months later I was putting out invites for Sausage Party 1 at the Penthouse in Oakland. He got an invite and when he showed up he fell madly in love with Alayna. She was all he could talk about but he wouldn't get over his nerves and talk to her. IN fact, I didn't know he strained his love muscle for her until the next day when he asked if I would give him her number. I impolitely declined to do so, but offered to pass his number to her. He agreed and when he was giving me his number he says "Oh, and please don't tell her I have Hepatitis. I'll never get lucky with her, if you know what I mean :eyebrows"
 
dravnx said:
Bud, that experience was so rando and so kewl. I knew we were making history.
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Indeed. Worthy of photographing for sure! :thumbup

BARF has delivered most of those for me over the last two decades.
 
Here is one posted elsewhere but cut up for this thread.

HWY 58 on a BARF Rally.

On one left hander I saw an egg sized rock in my path and just clipped it.

I was in the groove riding hard and fast and kept going. I was having fun for sure. Then I noted the rear felt like it was sliding a bit.. sort of like sand or dirty pavement. Nothing to serious I thought I was riding like a bad ass. 😂

THEN.. I went into a right hander somewhere around 60mph and the back stepped out… it felt like a full on Jared Mees flat track slide, but it was probably a foot.. :dunno I held my body position still as the wheel stayed out for the entire turn… 2 – 3 seconds :dunno I was again in animal mode being super careful not to disrupt the bikes balance as it was sliding predictably. A quick WHOA as I straighten up the bike and then turned quickly into a WTF as the rear was still squirreling. I though I must have blew an oil line or something.. great.

When I got off Norcal Factory (Tom) had pulled up and was looking at my bike.. and when he did there was a f’ing flat rear.. I mean pretty f’ing flat. :wow

He said the big one had left a nice black stripe.

I was damn lucky to ride it out and the Little Rock cost me a 600 hundo tow ultimately but with no crash I guess I am blessed once again. Plus I felt like a bad ass for doing it.
 
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