Stories from the road (14)
online today!online today!FadedbluejeansNorth Bay, Ontario Canada27 Threads 4 Polls 1,473 PostsOne time as I was going down a steep hill in Montana my gas cap on my black Harley fell off and I could not find it so I took a Bud Light beer can and made a gas cap by cutting the beer can and folded in the sharp edge twice using the bottom of the can and it fit and looked perfect. I used a 2 and a half inch hose clamp to secure it. Later that day I went to a Harley shop and they had to look at my cap for fun and would not sell me one cause it was so cool.
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Well a friend of mine used to go to the pub in Hilversum and then on his way to home he had to cycle over the cyclepath over the hayfield where cows were grazing.
He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
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Fadedbluejeans: One time as I was going down a steep hill in Montana my gas cap on my black Harley fell off and I could not find it so I took a Bud Light beer can and made a gas cap by cutting the beer can and folded in the sharp edge twice using the bottom of the can and it fit and looked perfect. I used a 2 and a half inch hose clamp to secure it. Later that day I went to a Harley shop and they had to look at my cap for fun and would not sell me one cause it was so cool.
i thought I was the king of improvising! I’m constantly looking for more and/ or better storage, so have gone “ vertical” when possible. I shelved the full length of my hall/ utility closet, fitting the braces with shallow coated wire “ tray shelves” - bought in a kit. It expanded the closet space, nearly doubling it, freeing up floor and wall space inside the closet itself. Armed with this skill, I found a “ half-shelf” of the same kind and converted the inside bathroom door into open, but nice looking, storage. One problem: I had a stainless steel paper towel holder that would only fit “ the long way”. However, the weight of the roll fell through to the bottom, ruining the practicality of the device. So...I searched the house and found a Rubbermaid plastic container top just slightly larger than the towel roll, slit an “x” in the middle, shimmied it down the holder core to the bottom. It ‘ holds’ the roll, and no one has ever noticed unless I’ve told them...Btw— occasionally around here you see a red mechanic’s rag stuffed into the gas port, hefty bags for windows, opaque tape for light covers, and a bumper-sticker that reads,
“It’s not how ya pick yer nose, it’s where you stash the booger”
Lovely....
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PeKaatje: Well a friend of mine used to go to the pub in Hilversum and then on his way to home he had to cycle over the cyclepath over the hayfield where cows were grazing.
He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
I remember when I was at the University de Paris iv, I chanced at a bar in St Michelle, where a spotty student was punching the ivories for an extra couple of bucks, I'm afraid I had too much wine and fell across the joanna.He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
When I came to there were about 5 drinks lined up for me, apparently, as I scrabbled to my feet I mauled the piano, and created a new sound.
I haven't been able to create it again, but I was good for a few beers there for ages.
I love Paris
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When I inspected the apartment I am living in it was daytime. I had no idea how brutal the lights in the parking lot next door would stream through the window blinds into my bedroom at night. My bedroom faces the East so in the morning the sun streamed inbetween the blinds so badly that it seemed like I was on the beach.
In years past I would get on a ladder and put up curtain rod brackets so that I could hang dark drapes. I don't have a ladder and in truth it wouldn't be safe for me to get on a tall ladder.
I do have a step stool and I did get on the bottom step to duck tape black plastic trash bags to the window frame. The room is now dark enough to sleep.
Plastic trash bags on the windows is not my style but it will have to do until I can convince the Property Manager to get the maintenance man to put the little brackets on the windows so that I can hang drapes.
In years past I would get on a ladder and put up curtain rod brackets so that I could hang dark drapes. I don't have a ladder and in truth it wouldn't be safe for me to get on a tall ladder.
I do have a step stool and I did get on the bottom step to duck tape black plastic trash bags to the window frame. The room is now dark enough to sleep.
Plastic trash bags on the windows is not my style but it will have to do until I can convince the Property Manager to get the maintenance man to put the little brackets on the windows so that I can hang drapes.
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Cool Motorcycle story Mr P
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Yes Ro I can be crafty so they say.
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Tom... Stories from the road not stories getting thrown on the road.
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Secret. cool story but can you at least see a Road out of your bedroom window.
Thread called"Stories from the Road:.
Thread called"Stories from the Road:.
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Fadedbluejeans: Secret. cool story but can you at least see a Road out of your bedroom window.
Thread called"Stories from the Road:.
Thread called"Stories from the Road:.
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Fadedbluejeans: Yes Ro I can be crafty so they say.
Behave yer darn self...------ This thread is Archived ------
PeKaatje: Well a friend of mine used to go to the pub in Hilversum and then on his way to home he had to cycle over the cyclepath over the hayfield where cows were grazing.
He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
I feel bad for the Cow He was so drunk he fully rode against a cow and fell on his face. The cow hardly reacted. I wonder what the cow was thinking? Or was he used to those drunk idiots?
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It was supposed to be a quick forty minute flight through the mountains, but after twenty minutes the pilot aborted the flight and returned back to Peshawar. I wasn't totally surprised, we were warned this might happen, well it is regarded as one of the most dangerous passenger flights in the world. So, with the two later flights that day also cancelled, we had no choice but to find a bus that would take us on our journey.
This was easier said than done. It took us a few hours of being led round the back streets of Peshawar followed by a small crowd of curious children in search of the illusive bus to Chitral. Finally our friendly self proclaimed helper pointed down a dirty looking alleyway and exclaimed, "Chitral, bus to Chitral down there." So, after a further three hour wait we finally boarded our bus to Chitral, and I use the term 'bus' loosely, I didn't even have any glass in the window I was sat next to.
I cannot describe the following twenty seven hour journey on here, it would too long. Best I can do mention a few of the highlights of the journey. I could mention how we were ambushed on two occasions, or how the driver was beaten on three other occasions.
Or not to mention him breaking his big toe when he kicked the punctured tyre in frustration as it was our second puncture and we no longer had a spare.
It was at this point we decided to abandon the bus, leave the luggage on board and try and get a lift the rest of the way to Chitral. This was not an easy task, we were in the middle of nowhere in the baking sun and not a vehicle to be seen for almost an hour. Finally a jeep appeared in the distance and with a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust, the driver, (who appeared to be at least a year off becoming a teenager,) beckoned us over. It turned out the jeep was owned by a judge from Chitral and he was most pleased to have three Westerners to join him for the rest of the journey. So, off we went at what seemed breakneck speed, the judge apologised for his young drivers apparent reckless speed over a very poor road, but explained, "I told him to put his foot down, I've just sat on a case in Swat, (a different district to Chitral) and I'm going to be home very late.
He insisted on dropping us at our hotel in Chitral and then insisted we go to his house the following evening for dinner. As he was leaving he said, "don't forget, I send my driver to pick you up tomorrow night and bring you to my house."
He did....and the meal was wonderful.
This was easier said than done. It took us a few hours of being led round the back streets of Peshawar followed by a small crowd of curious children in search of the illusive bus to Chitral. Finally our friendly self proclaimed helper pointed down a dirty looking alleyway and exclaimed, "Chitral, bus to Chitral down there." So, after a further three hour wait we finally boarded our bus to Chitral, and I use the term 'bus' loosely, I didn't even have any glass in the window I was sat next to.
I cannot describe the following twenty seven hour journey on here, it would too long. Best I can do mention a few of the highlights of the journey. I could mention how we were ambushed on two occasions, or how the driver was beaten on three other occasions.
Or not to mention him breaking his big toe when he kicked the punctured tyre in frustration as it was our second puncture and we no longer had a spare.
It was at this point we decided to abandon the bus, leave the luggage on board and try and get a lift the rest of the way to Chitral. This was not an easy task, we were in the middle of nowhere in the baking sun and not a vehicle to be seen for almost an hour. Finally a jeep appeared in the distance and with a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust, the driver, (who appeared to be at least a year off becoming a teenager,) beckoned us over. It turned out the jeep was owned by a judge from Chitral and he was most pleased to have three Westerners to join him for the rest of the journey. So, off we went at what seemed breakneck speed, the judge apologised for his young drivers apparent reckless speed over a very poor road, but explained, "I told him to put his foot down, I've just sat on a case in Swat, (a different district to Chitral) and I'm going to be home very late.
He insisted on dropping us at our hotel in Chitral and then insisted we go to his house the following evening for dinner. As he was leaving he said, "don't forget, I send my driver to pick you up tomorrow night and bring you to my house."
He did....and the meal was wonderful.
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bodleing2: It was supposed to be a quick forty minute flight through the mountains, but after twenty minutes the pilot aborted the flight and returned back to Peshawar. I wasn't totally surprised, we were warned this might happen, well it is regarded as one of the most dangerous passenger flights in the world. So, with the two later flights that day also cancelled, we had no choice but to find a bus that would take us on our journey.
This was easier said than done. It took us a few hours of being led round the back streets of Peshawar followed by a small crowd of curious children in search of the illusive bus to Chitral. Finally our friendly self proclaimed helper pointed down a dirty looking alleyway and exclaimed, "Chitral, bus to Chitral down there." So, after a further three hour wait we finally boarded our bus to Chitral, and I use the term 'bus' loosely, I didn't even have any glass in the window I was sat next to.
I cannot describe the following twenty seven hour journey on here, it would too long. Best I can do mention a few of the highlights of the journey. I could mention how we were ambushed on two occasions, or how the driver was beaten on three other occasions.
Or not to mention him breaking his big toe when he kicked the punctured tyre in frustration as it was our second puncture and we no longer had a spare.
It was at this point we decided to abandon the bus, leave the luggage on board and try and get a lift the rest of the way to Chitral. This was not an easy task, we were in the middle of nowhere in the baking sun and not a vehicle to be seen for almost an hour. Finally a jeep appeared in the distance and with a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust, the driver, (who appeared to be at least a year off becoming a teenager,) beckoned us over. It turned out the jeep was owned by a judge from Chitral and he was most pleased to have three Westerners to join him for the rest of the journey. So, off we went at what seemed breakneck speed, the judge apologised for his young drivers apparent reckless speed over a very poor road, but explained, "I told him to put his foot down, I've just sat on a case in Swat, (a different district to Chitral) and I'm going to be home very late.
He insisted on dropping us at our hotel in Chitral and then insisted we go to his house the following evening for dinner. As he was leaving he said, "don't forget, I send my driver to pick you up tomorrow night and bring you to my house."
He did....and the meal was wonderful.
I can’t top that, but I had finished junior college and was driving a very questionable old car from San Francisco to Grand Junction, Colorado. I won about 200.00 in Reno, and added to my trip money, it was fairly good for the times. After the Colorado visit, I journeyed home through Steamboat Springs/Craig/ Dinosaur, then across the Bonneville Salt Flats.(To give you an idea, this stretch is used for testing race cars, etc...) well, a sudden blizzard hit, the car froze and of course halted, and there I was, in the middle of the Utah desert freezing cold, blinded by the storm, no one in sight. Scary. I attempted three times to thumb down a ride, but no one was driving. Finally, after about four hours a huge truck stopped. He took me to Wendover, bordering Nevada. I found a garage with a tow, he agreed to go get the car and repair it enough to get it back to California, which he did. He took most of my money ( which was fair) I spent almost everything else on a room for the night and a sandwich. The motel gave me breakfast. I coasted into friends’ driveway in Sacramento, and they loaned me enough money to get back to SF. There is absolutely nothing about Utah, snow, or ice that interests me in the least. I won’t have winter scenes as decor, and I pick out the snow-laden Christmas card pics and donate them to charity. Can’t stand it...This was easier said than done. It took us a few hours of being led round the back streets of Peshawar followed by a small crowd of curious children in search of the illusive bus to Chitral. Finally our friendly self proclaimed helper pointed down a dirty looking alleyway and exclaimed, "Chitral, bus to Chitral down there." So, after a further three hour wait we finally boarded our bus to Chitral, and I use the term 'bus' loosely, I didn't even have any glass in the window I was sat next to.
I cannot describe the following twenty seven hour journey on here, it would too long. Best I can do mention a few of the highlights of the journey. I could mention how we were ambushed on two occasions, or how the driver was beaten on three other occasions.
Or not to mention him breaking his big toe when he kicked the punctured tyre in frustration as it was our second puncture and we no longer had a spare.
It was at this point we decided to abandon the bus, leave the luggage on board and try and get a lift the rest of the way to Chitral. This was not an easy task, we were in the middle of nowhere in the baking sun and not a vehicle to be seen for almost an hour. Finally a jeep appeared in the distance and with a screech of brakes and a cloud of dust, the driver, (who appeared to be at least a year off becoming a teenager,) beckoned us over. It turned out the jeep was owned by a judge from Chitral and he was most pleased to have three Westerners to join him for the rest of the journey. So, off we went at what seemed breakneck speed, the judge apologised for his young drivers apparent reckless speed over a very poor road, but explained, "I told him to put his foot down, I've just sat on a case in Swat, (a different district to Chitral) and I'm going to be home very late.
He insisted on dropping us at our hotel in Chitral and then insisted we go to his house the following evening for dinner. As he was leaving he said, "don't forget, I send my driver to pick you up tomorrow night and bring you to my house."
He did....and the meal was wonderful.
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