From ron Tue Mar 31 09:55:05 1992
Relay-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM
From: r...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Ron Miller)
Date: Tue, 31 Mar 1992 16:55:05 GMT
Date-Received: Tue, 31 Mar 1992 16:55:05 GMT
Subject: Some bad news
Message-ID: <990...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Path: hpfcso!ron
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Posting-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM

It is with a heavy heart that I regret to inform you that Jeff Deeney
appears to have been seriously injured during some sort of
motorcycle accident.

I wasn't listening closely enough to the local cable-station news to
catch what it was all about. I also haven't been able to contact his
wife, he may not even be in the local hospitals because they seem to
have no knowlege of him. (Flight for Life will often take victims to
their own facility)

The news said it was "awful." I hope they're wrong.

Hopefully,

Ron Miller
DoD 693

From vlj Tue Mar 31 12:37:08 1992
Relay-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM
From: v...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Victor Johnson)
Date: Tue, 31 Mar 1992 19:37:08 GMT
Date-Received: Tue, 31 Mar 1992 19:37:08 GMT
Subject: Re: Some bad news
Message-ID: <990...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Path: hpfcso!vlj
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Posting-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM References: <990...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>

In rec.motorcycles, r...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Ron Miller) writes:

It is with a heavy heart that I regret to inform you that Jeff Deeney
appears to have been seriously injured during some sort of
motorcycle accident.

I wasn't listening closely enough to the local cable-station news to
catch what it was all about. I also haven't been able to contact his
wife, he may not even be in the local hospitals because they seem to
have no knowlege of him. (Flight for Life will often take victims to
their own facility)

The news said it was "awful." I hope they're wrong.

They're not.

A guy a couple of cubicles down is always plugged into a scanner so
I asked him if he picked up anything on this. After giving me the
usual ".. those thing are dangerous ...you're all nuts ...", he said there
had been a single vehicle accident involving a motorcycle seven miles
southwest of town. There was a fire involved as the Masonville Volunteer
Fire Dept. was called to the scene to put out a grass fire and the rider
was airlifted to DGH Burn Unit. Not good. I'm trying to find out more.

Damn!
Victor Johnson
--------------

From matt...@ajsh.colorado.edu Tue Mar 31 15:37:10 1992
Relay-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM
From: matt...@ajsh.colorado.edu (Alex Matthews)
Date: Tue, 31 Mar 1992 22:37:10 GMT
Date-Received: Wed, 1 Apr 1992 15:08:11 GMT
Subject: Another sad "accident"
Message-ID: <1992Mar31....@colorado.edu>
Organization: JILA, University of Colorado at Boulder
Path: hpfcso!hplextra!hpscdc!sdd.hp.com!spool.mu.edu!agate!boulder!matthews Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
References: <1888.2...@kennel.FIDONET.ORG> <APT.92Ma...@tk2.oulu.fi> <1992Mar31....@javelin.sim.es.com>
Sender: ne...@colorado.edu (The Daily Planet)
Lines: 42
Summary: How many trucks does it take to run a CBR900RR off the road? Originator: matthews@ajsh
Nntp-Posting-Host: ajsh.colorado.edu

I heard the strangest story today. Those of you who live away from
the Colorado Front Range are probably often amused by the strange
juxtiposition of civilized and backwoods mentalities here in
Colorado, but you local folks should listen up seriously because it
looks like this time we have a real maniac to deal with.

I was just down at a local shop to pick up some fork dust boots
that I ordered for the GS450s, and one of the parts guys was all aflame
about an "accident" he saw on his way into work today. He
was riding in through the foothills and was nearly run off the
road by - get this - a truck with *llamas* in it! That by itself
might not be too bad, even a bit amusing on a good day, but later on
down the road he came across a group of emergency trucks strung out
across a field, with oil on the outside of a turn and what looked like
a burning motorcycle over across a field. He was nearly stopped anyway
trying to tiptoe around the oil, so he rode up to one of the
firemen and asked what was happening. The reply was that the
cyclist was pretty badly burned and they were clearing a helicopter
landing area to fly him to a hospital. The fireman didn't know how
it happened, so the parts guy told him about the crazy truck driver,
thinking that the truck ran the bike off the road.

The fireman said he'd radio it in, so the driver is probably behind
bars now, but it left all of us with major new jitters about meeting
trucks on the wrong side of a canyon road. With the laws as lax as they
are we can probably look forward to meeting up with this idiot
truck in the near future, as the courts will probably just slap his
wrist and let him keep his license "for the continuance of his
business." Business? Llamas? Sheesh, let the granola yuppies
grow their own pack animals; let's put this driver in the electric
chair and pour gasoline over him.

Sorry for the diatribe, but after having been run off the road once
by a drink driver I don't take too kindly to that sort of lunacy.
*sigh* April's just around the corner, maybe I should just take a
deep breath, wait for spring, and leave the flaming to someone else.

--
-Alex Matthews (matt...@ajsh.colorado.edu)
DoD #0010
"Every particle continues in its state of rest or uniform motion in a
straight line except insofar as it doesn't." -- Sir Arthur Eddington

From jld Wed Apr 1 08:20:14 1992
Relay-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM
From: j...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Jeff Deeney)
Date: Wed, 1 Apr 1992 15:20:14 GMT
Date-Received: Wed, 1 Apr 1992 15:20:14 GMT
Subject: Some good news, and some bad news
Message-ID: <990...@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM>
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA
Path: hpfcso!jld
Newsgroups: rec.motorcycles
Posting-Version: version Notes 2.8.4 1990/05/09; site hpfcso.FC.HP.COM

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Yes, I had a mishap,
but I've been released from the hospital and I'm now at home for a few
weeks. Too bad I can't say the same for my motorcycle. Writing is a
little awkward with some of the bandages, so please excuse any errors.

I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I finally got
the 750 put back together. Ron Miller was over a couple of nights ago
and helped me wrestle the engine back into the frame. Another late
night in the garage had the pipes and carburetors back on. The next
morning, I hooked up the fuel and fired it up. It took a few minutes
for the engine to catch, but it eventually started firing. First on
one, two, three, and finally all four cylinders. The garage and
driveway were filled with blue smoke as the assembly lubrication burned
off.

Before I tell you any more, I have a confession to make. Ron knows all
about this and has threatened to make my frugality public, so I may as
well beat him to it. Because I place little value on the street pig, I
didn't want to invest any more than necessary to get her running again.
The only new parts I bought for the top end rebuild were one exhaust
valve and a top end seal kit. I reused the cam chains, the chain wear
blocks, and even the piston rings. Everything was still well within specification after 37k miles and 11 years and I saw no reason to
replace them. If only I'd known then what I know now. :-(

After about an hour of gentle riding around town, I decided to take her
out in the country for some high speed break-in. There's a nice little two-lane here that winds around Horsetooth Reservoir above town. After
warming up on several miles of twisties, I turned South at Masonville.
There are some good straight stretches here so I decided to open it up
for a long burst.

Not long after the 85mph speedometer buried the needle, I begin to
detect that something was not right. Within a matter of seconds, a dull ticking grew to a loud clacking and the entire motorcycle begin to
shudder. I just started to shut down the throttle when one of the rods
snapped and proceeded to ventilate the crankcases. The engine suddenly
stopped turning and locked the rear wheel; which was now thoroughly
coated with oil.

The back end came around on me just before I regained enough composure
to pull the clutch in. Being halfway sideways, the bars violently
wrenched my shoulders and I was almost tossed off as the bike
straightened out. By this time, I would estimate that I was still doing
at least 80 miles per hour. Having focused on getting the bike back
under control, I had failed to notice the sharp corner coming up. When
I tried the brakes, I quickly learned that the engine had hurled oil
over all three disks. What I wouldn't have given for good old drum
brakes right about then!

When it became obvious that there was no way I was going to make the
corner with no brakes and oil covered tires, I stood the bike up and
tried to pick a path with the minimum number of hazards. I think that I
got some air as I left the roadway and dropped down the slight bank into
a field. I narrowly missed a fence post and punched through a barbed
wire fence.

If you've ridden along the county road South of Masonville, you've
probably seen the large llama ranch to the East of the County road.
Well, the field that I had rocketed into happened to be occupied by a
herd of very surprised llamas. They scattered as I approached, but I
still managed to clip the hindquarters of a large brown and white male,
sending waves of pain through my left hand and forearm. Having cleared
the shaggy creatures, I found myself headed for a ditch with a berm on
the side that I was approaching. I had the choice of hitting the ditch
square, or trying to lay the bike down. I realized that with my current
rate of speed, even sliding, I would still hit the ditch at high speed,
so I opted to square up as best I could, stand up on the pegs, and
prepare for the impact. It's really amazing how fast the brain
processes information in the adrenelin induced time expansion.

The suspension bottomed with a loud Ker-THUNK at both ends as I hit the embankment. I pulled back hard on the bars as I crested the mound to
prevent the back end from kicking up into the air. Ideally I would have
used a burst of throttle at this point to maintain the proper attitude.
For a while, I thought that I was going to clear the entire ditch, but
when I landed, the frame smacked into the soft dirt lining the opposite
lip of the ditch. I could hear the pipes crumple and grind beneath me.

The impact tore my hands from the bars and the chin of my helmet smacked
into the tank, scattering stars across the inside of my faceshield. I
was actually quite lucky that my hands were not on the bars at this
point. You see, as irrigation ditches in Colorado often have, this one
was lined with large cottonwood trees. Through some kind of divine intervention, my trajectory took me squarely between two of them. This
would have been OK if the trees were six inches further apart. Each end
of the handlebars sent up a shower of coarse, dry bark as the bars
received a modified cafe racer bend.

I managed to wrestle control of the mangled handlebars just as I looked
up to see an electric fence approaching. By this time, my speed had
been slowed considerably. I was able to bring the back end around and
slide to a stop within inches of the fence. I sat there for a few
moments to take inventory of all major limbs. I was astounded to
discover that other than some sore muscles, I was pretty much unscathed.

Then I noticed the strong smell of gasoline. I stepped off the bike and
put it on the sidestand. The source of the gasoline was a deep gouge in
the leading edge of the tank, probably from the barbed wire fence.
Hearing an approaching vehicle, I turned to see the llama rancher
blazing across the field on a 4-wheeler. The last thing I remember was
walking toward him, loosening my helmet, and trying to think up an
appropriate opening line like, "I meant to do that! He-He".

I'm told that the fireball created when the sidestand sunk in the soft
dirt and the bike tipped into the electric fence was quite spectacular.
I was very fortunate that the rancher was able to douse my flaming
clothing in short order. Unfortunately, the only thing he had to douse
the flames with was a couple gallons of insecticide. Nevertheless, the
doctors tell me that my chances of leading a normal life are pretty
good. The bandages should be off in time for our dirt riding trip to Canyonlands, but I would imagine I'll have to stay out of the sun as
much as possible.

So here it is, the first of April, spring is here in full force, and I'm
stuck inside until some of these lesions either explode or fall off.
Let this be a lesson, don't scrimp on repairs, or you'll pay, painfully.
:-/

-Jeff Deeney- DoD#0498 NCTR '88 XR600(Shamu) j...@hpfcla.fc.hp.com AMA#540813 COHVCO '81 CB750F(In Cinders)
"...and that was only one of the many occasions on which I met my death;
an experience which I don't hesitate to strongly recommend."
-Baron Von Munchausen

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