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The Squirrel Grenade (EXTREMELY funny article)
pvpforums.com ^ | Jan 18, 2004 | by T-Duck

Posted on 01/18/2004 4:03:57 PM PST by Lazamataz

I never dreamed slowly cruising through a residential neighborhood could be so incredibly dangerous! Studies have shown that motorcycling requires more decisions per second, and more sheer data processing than nearly any other common activity or sport. The reactions and accurate decision making abilities needed have been likened to the reactions of fighter pilots! The consequences of bad decisions or poor situational awareness are pretty much the same for both groups too.

Occasionally, as a rider I have caught myself starting to make bad or late decisions while riding. In flight training, my instructors called this being "behind the power curve". It is a mark of experience that when this begins to happen, the rider recognizes the situation, and more importantly, does something about it. A short break, a meal, or even a gas stop can set things right again as it gives the brain a chance to catch up.

Good, accurate, and timely decisions are essential when riding a motorcycle.at least if you want to remain among the living. In short, the brain needs to keep up with the machine.

I had been banging around the roads of east Texas and as I headed back into Dallas, found myself in very heavy, high-speed traffic on the freeways. Normally, this is not a problem, I commute in these conditions daily, but suddenly I was nearly run down by a cage that decided it needed my lane more than I did. This is not normally a big deal either, as it happens around here often, but usually I can accurately predict which drivers are not paying attention and avoid them before we are even close. This one I missed seeing until it was nearly too late, and as I took evasive action I nearly broadsided another car that I was not even aware was there!

Two bad decisions and insufficient situational awareness.all within seconds. I was behind the power curve. Time to get off the freeway. I hit the next exit, and as I was in an area I knew pretty well, headed through a few big residential neighborhoods as a new route home. As I turned onto the nearly empty streets I opened the visor on my full-face helmet to help get some air. I figured some slow riding through the quiet surface streets would give me time to relax, think, and regain that "edge" so frequently required when riding. Little did I suspect.

As I passed an oncoming 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 must have been trying to run across the road when it encountered the car. 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 can take care of themselves!

Inches before impact, the squirrel flipped to his feet. He was standing on his hind legs and facing the oncoming Valkyrie with steadfast resolve in his little beady eyes. His mouth opened, and at the last possible second, he screamed and leapt! I am pretty sure the scream was squirrel for, "Banzai!" or maybe, "Die you gravy-sucking, heathen scum!" as the leap was spectacular and he flew over the windshield and impacted me squarely in the chest.

Instantly he set upon me. If I did not know better I would have sworn he brought twenty 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 black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and leather gloves puttering maybe 25mph 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 and managed to snag his tail. With all my strength I flung the evil rodent off 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 pissed-off squirrel. This was an evil attack squirrel of death!

Somehow he caught my gloved finger with one of his little hands, and with the force of the throw swung around and with a resounding thump and an amazing impact he landed square on my back and resumed his rather anti-social 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 Valkyrie can only have one result. Torque. This is what the Valkyrie is made for, and she is very, very good at it. The engine roared as the front wheel left the pavement. The squirrel screamed in anger. The Valkyrie screamed in ecstasy. I screamed in.well.I just plain screamed.

Now picture a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a slightly squirrel torn t-shirt, and only one leather glove roaring at maybe 70mph and rapidly accelerating down a quiet residential street.on one wheel and with a demonic squirrel on his back. The man and the squirrel are both screaming bloody murder.

With the sudden acceleration I was forced to put my other hand back on the handlebars and try to get control of the bike. This was leaving the mutant squirrel to his own devices, but I really did not want to crash into somebody's tree, house, or parked car. Also, I had not yet figured out how to release the throttle.my brain was just simply overloaded. I did manage to mash the back brake, but it had little affect against the massive power of the big cruiser.

About this time the squirrel decided that I was not paying sufficient attention to this very serious battle (maybe he is a Scottish attack squirrel of death), and he came around my neck and got IN my full-face helmet with me. As the faceplate closed partway and he began hissing in my face I am quite sure my screaming changed tone and intensity. It seemed to have little affect on the squirrel however. The rpm's on The Dragon maxed out (I was not concerned about shifting at the moment) and her front end started to drop. Now picture the large man on the huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a very ragged torn t-shirt, and wearing one leather glove, roaring at probably 80mph, still on one wheel, with a large puffy squirrel's tail sticking out his mostly closed full-face helmet. By now the screams are probably getting a little hoarse.

Finally I got the upper hand.I managed to grab his tail again, pulled him out of my helmet, and slung him to the left as hard as I could. This time it worked.sort-of. Spectacularly sort-of, so to speak.

Picture the scene. You are a cop. You and your partner have pulled off on a quiet residential street and parked with your windows down to do some paperwork.

Suddenly a large man on a huge black and chrome cruiser, dressed in jeans, a torn t-shirt flapping in the breeze, and wearing one leather glove, moving at probably 80mph on one wheel, and screaming bloody murder roars by and with all his strength throws a live squirrel grenade directly into your police car.

I heard screams. They weren't mine...

I managed to get the big motorcycle under directional control and dropped the front wheel to the ground. I then used maximum braking and skidded to a stop in a cloud of tire smoke at the stop sign at a busy cross street.

I would have returned to fess up (and to get my glove back). I really would have. Really. But for two things. First, the cops did not seem interested or the slightest bit concerned about me at the moment. One of them was on his back in the front yard of the house they had been parked in front of and was rapidly crabbing backwards away from the patrol car. The other was standing in the street and was training a riot shotgun on the police cruiser.

So the cops were not interested in me. They often insist to "let the professionals handle it" anyway. That was one thing. The other? Well, I swear I could see the squirrel, standing in the back window of the patrol car among shredded and flying pieces of foam and upholstery, and shaking his little fist at me. I think he was shooting me the finger. That is one dangerous squirrel.

And now he has a patrol car.

I took a deep breath, turned on my turn-signal, made an easy right turn, and sedately left the neighborhood. As for my easy and slow drive home? Screw it. Faced with a choice of 80mph cars and inattentive drivers, or the evil, demonic, attack squirrel of death...I'll take my chances with the freeway. Every time. And I'll buy myself a new pair of gloves.


TOPICS: Miscellaneous; Political Humor/Cartoons
KEYWORDS: angrysquirrel; biker; chromecruiser; deadlysquirrel; demonicsquirrel; evil; freeperhooligans; inattentivedrivers; lostglove; motorcycle; noleftturn; norightturn; pissedsquirrel; psychosquirrel; rodents; segway; squirrel; squirrelgrenade; squirrels; squirrelysquirrel; takechances; tornshirt; treerats; walknexttime; whenanimalsattack
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To: netmilsmom; Fangorn
You've gotta read this. Trust me.

But you better put your coffee down.
141 posted on 01/19/2004 6:46:13 AM PST by 4mycountry ("No! Bad doggie! Don't eat dead people!")
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To: Tijeras_Slim

142 posted on 01/19/2004 6:52:45 AM PST by mewzilla
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To: mfulstone
The author, Daniel B. Meyer, appears to be fine. Especially since this happened years ago.

Life is a Road, the Soul is a Motorcycle

143 posted on 01/19/2004 7:05:03 AM PST by Eaker (Place your clothes and weapons where you can find them in the dark. - Lazarus Long)
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To: Excuse_My_Bellicosity; Pan_Yan; nuconvert
ping
144 posted on 01/19/2004 7:08:25 AM PST by Pan_Yans Wife (He who has never hoped can never despair.)
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To: MeekOneGOP

Dee-da-dee-da-dee-da-dee-doe. Dee-da-dee-dee-doe...

145 posted on 01/19/2004 7:11:17 AM PST by uglybiker (nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh nuh BATMAN!)
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To: Peace will be here soon
The quote below is by the author Daniel Meyer.

Many have asked if this story actually happened. With over half a million riding miles under my belt I have seen a lot of interesting things, but, as with all my stories, you will just have to decide for yourself...my comments are not going to sway you one way or another. I do have to address one comment though...many have written me to tell me a Valkyrie cannot do a wheelie.

They would be wrong...

The Valkyrie is a heavy cruiser, but with around 100 free horsepower at the rear wheel, any competent rider can wheelie this bike in the right conditions. Of course the kicker is that most competent riders will choose NOT to.

Don't believe me? That's your prerogative of course, but if you would like to learn more about this amazingly fast and powerful cruiser pop on over and visit my friends at http://www.valkyrieriders.com

146 posted on 01/19/2004 7:13:13 AM PST by Eaker (Place your clothes and weapons where you can find them in the dark. - Lazarus Long)
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To: Conspiracy Guy
"...no longer ride...too many idiots on the rode. Flying is 100 times safer."

Still got to get to the airstrip, don't ya? I ride and I fly alot(as passenger to split expenses with my buddy with the license)and love both. When ground travel is the plan, there is no better way than by motorcycle. I'll trade the safety issue for the freedom anyday.
147 posted on 01/19/2004 7:18:23 AM PST by Blue Collar Christian (Part of the Vast Right Wing Apparatus since Ford lost. ><BCC>)
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To: HangThemHigh
Someone was looking out for me. They didn't get me in the face, just up the right sleeve (I had the sleeve zipper open, shorty gloves, hot day--now I wear gauntlet style gloves, even in summer.). It didn't take genius to come off the throttle, just reflex. For once I didn't have a cage tailgaiting me and oncoming traffic. I shut my old superglide down, shucked off my leather jacket and started picking stingers, the first was next to my wrist, the last in my armpit.

Still, it didn't hurt as much as kissing pavement might have.

Since then, we have managed to get the beekeepers in the State of North Dakota to set those pretty white boxes (beehives) back from the road a little farther. The little critters were working the ditch and the roadside for nectar, I guess. The day finished up at Menoken Grove (annual ABATE of ND party), so it worked out well.

Another occasion on the way to Bainville, Montana, (dusk) I saw a mouse in the headlight (on the road) and caught a flash of motion out of the corner of my eye. I'm still not sure if it was an owl, eagle, or large hawk diving for the mouse, but I never would have thought I could kiss the tanks (forward controls, and I've never been accused of being skinny)--especially while riding at 65 mph--but I did. The bird was close enough to feel/hear the wind from its wings, even over the bike. No harm, no foul, just sat up and drove (with copious thanks to the Creator, of course.)

The only wild and dangerous squirrels I have had to deal with are two-legged, and never ended up in my lap (while I was driving, anyway). But those are stories for another time...

148 posted on 01/19/2004 7:20:34 AM PST by Smokin' Joe (This tagline manufactured in the U.S.A. and is certified prion-free.)
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To: pistol packin' mama; BARLF; Jackie-O; Devil_Anse; trussell; GummyIII; Humidston; Howlin; jdontom; ..
Who says we gots to be series all the time. This is Hugh!! :)
149 posted on 01/19/2004 7:20:48 AM PST by Freedom2specul8 (Please pray for our troops.... http://anyservicemember.navy.mil/)
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To: Blue Collar Christian
I love bikes and miss them. A country road, (Interstates are boring in 4 or 2 wheeled vehicles), and the roar of the big twins are music. My yellow 02 Ford Ranger ext cab Edge gets me to the strip OK. I really miss bikes though.

CG
150 posted on 01/19/2004 7:21:45 AM PST by Conspiracy Guy (When you don't know where you're going, any road will take you there.)
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To: Lazamataz
"I clearly need to get a motorcycle."

"Just for the funny stories alone."


That's true. Everytime you see two or more motorcylclists together, someone will be laying it on this thick! ;^)
151 posted on 01/19/2004 7:24:01 AM PST by Blue Collar Christian (Part of the Vast Right Wing Apparatus since Ford lost. ><BCC>)
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To: Lazamataz
Excellent!
152 posted on 01/19/2004 7:27:30 AM PST by jimt
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To: Lazamataz
"That happens to me at least once a week."

In our neck of the woods it is "Kamakazi Chickens"...

I watched a flock of Kamakazi Chickens destroy a Honda Goldwing at 60 MPH. Ripped the ferring, the trunk and the left saddlebag right off the sucker.

Also destroyed the grill of my F250 Ford Pickup. Pulling pulverized Kamakazi Chicken out of your radiator is no fun whatsoever!

153 posted on 01/19/2004 7:31:40 AM PST by Mad Dawgg (French: old Europe word meaning surrender)
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To: Restorer
A friend and I were hunting down a dry creek bed when suddenly this squirrel appeared running flat out towards us. I jumped out of the way and the damned crazy squirrel ran right up the front of my friend to the top of his head and jumped off. We never got a shot off. Shows you the value of a suprise attack.
154 posted on 01/19/2004 7:32:05 AM PST by dljordan
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To: uglybiker; autoresponder; PhilDragoo
ROFL !!! hahahahaaaaa !! ...

155 posted on 01/19/2004 7:33:30 AM PST by MeekOneGOP (Freeper formerly known as MeeknMing)
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To: KC_for_Freedom
I had a wasp hit me in the face while I was flying downhill on a bike. It clutched and scrabbled to hang on as the slipstream drug it down my cheek and neck. I was howling like the damned as I hung on to keep from wrecking as that sucker poked me 8 or 9 times. The welts were pretty funny too, in retrospect. Each sting the venom was more depleted so the first was a big knot and then they tapered down to mosquito bite size for the last ones...
156 posted on 01/19/2004 7:36:47 AM PST by Axenolith (<tag>)
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To: honeygrl
Not to mention the fact that it's extremely rare for small prey animals to contract rabies.
157 posted on 01/19/2004 7:38:38 AM PST by Axenolith (<tag>)
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To: Lazamataz
Today was the first day I commuted on my bike since last spring. How timely. I was certain it was going to end up in a spectacular crash.
158 posted on 01/19/2004 7:45:35 AM PST by RobRoy
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To: ~Kim4VRWC's~
Totally BIZARRE, Kim! And to think, I was complaining about the darned things getting into the bird feeder...
159 posted on 01/19/2004 7:46:09 AM PST by Devil_Anse
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To: metesky
My grandfather told me about this guy he knew who lived in DC in the 40's or 50's who'd always have squirrel at meals. He couldn't figure how he got them and asked one day. The guy lived near a park, so he'd put a pair of ladies hosery on his window ledge propped open with a coat hangar and stick some nuts down in the legs\feet area. The squirrels would go in to get the nuts, and their claws would get tangled up in the fine mesh of the hosery. He'd then grab it and whack them against the wall. He said the one drawback was that, being park squirrels, they tended to be older and hence, tough and stringy little buggers :)
160 posted on 01/19/2004 7:47:14 AM PST by Axenolith (<tag>)
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