Harley Davidson Forums - Biker Vs. Squirrel

Biker vs Squirrel

I never dreamed slowly cruising on my motorcycle through a
residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Little did I
suspect...

I was on Brice Street - a very nice neighborhood with perfect lawns
and slow traffic. As I passed an on coming car, a brown, furry missile shot
out from under it and tumbled to a stop immediately in front of me.

It was a squirrel, and it must have been trying to run across the
road when it encountered the bike. I really was not going very fast, but there was
no time to brake or avoid it -- it was that close. I hate to run over animals,
and I really hate it on a motorcycle, but a squirrel should pose no danger
to me.

I barely had time to brace for the impact. Animal lovers, never fear.
Squirrels, I discovered, can take care of themselves.

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was
standing on his hind legs and facing my oncoming Harley with steadfast resolve in
his beady little eyes.

His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and
leapt!

I was pretty sure the scream was Squirrel for "Bonzai!" or
maybe "Die, you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" The leap was nothing short of
spectacular...

He shot straight up, flew over my handlebars, and impacted me
squarely in the chest. Instantly, he set upon me. If I did not know better, I would
have sworn he brought 20 of his little buddies along for the attack.

Snarling, hissing, and tearing at my clothes, he was a frenzy of
activity. As I was dressed only in a light T-shirt, summer riding gloves, and
jeans, this was a bit of a cause for concern. This furry little tornado was
doing some damage!

Picture a large man on a huge blue-and-chrome cruiser, dressed in
jeans, a T-shirt, and leather gloves, puttering at maybe 25 mph down a quiet
residential street, and in the fight of his life with a squirrel.

And losing...

I grabbed for him with my left hand. After a few misses, I finally
managed to snag his tail. With all my strength, I flung the evil rodent off to
the left of the bike, almost running into the right curb as I recoiled from the
throw. That should have done it. The matter should have ended right there.

It really should have. The squirrel could have sailed into one of the
pristinely kept yards and gone on about his business, and I could
have headed home. No one would have been the wiser. But this was no ordinary
squirrel.

This was not even an ordinary angry squirrel. This was an EVIL
MUTANT ATTACK SQUIRREL OF DEATH! Twisted Evil

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands and,
with the force of my throw, swung around and with a resounding thump and an
amazing impact, landed squarely on my BACK and resumed his rather antisocial
and extremely distracting activities. He also managed to take my left
glove with him! The situation was not improved, not improved at all.

His attacks were continuing, and now I could not reach him. I was
startled, to say the least. The combination of the force of the throw, only
having one hand (the throttle hand) on the handlebars, and my jerking back
unfortunately put a healthy twist through my right hand and into the throttle. A healthy twist on the throttle of a Harley can have only one result.

Torque.

This is what my Harley is made for, and she is very, very good at
it.

The engine roared and the front wheel left the pavement.

The squirrel screamed in anger.

The Harley screamed in ecstasy.

I screamed in ... well... I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge blue-and-chrome cruiser, dressed
in jeans, a slightly squirrel-torn T-shirt, wearing only one leather glove, and
roaring at maybe 50 mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential
street on one wheel, with a demonic squir