In short: Ride smart, stay on your side of the road and everyone’s happy. Screw things up and a mob of riders is going to want to see your helmet on a pike.
Or at least on the Tree of Shame.
The Dragon feasts on a steady diet of leather, plastic, fiberglass and skin. The Tree of Shame at Deal’s Gap is a living monument to man’s helplessness against the relentless tug of gravity. Dating back to the 1980s, the Tree is adorned with autographed bits of battered bikes that got their crunchy comeuppance on Route 129.
Look, Mommy, that man on the motorcycle is doing tricks for us.
That one looks like it hurt.
Picking up that tricky 10-7 split. Charged up on endorphins, it’s easy to misjudge the spectacular reduction in traction once you’re on the roadside gravel. The Killboy crew sees more people crash off the pavement than on it. T-boning your buddies just adds to the fun.
“Hi guys! There you are! I’ll just dive across the centerline here and we can all chat about our exceptionally fun scooter ride!” Spontaneity and blind corners are a poor combination. But props to this scooter geek for having the wherewithal to tag the front brake and attenuate residual energy with his face instead of harpooning an innocent oncoming motard man.
Hope he’s all right.
Checking up on him.
Hitting the dusty road.
Hey, looky here, somebody dropped a quarter.