Dirt Bikers--Get the F*ck Out Of The Park!

The BBQ Pit
1

We live in a quiet neighbourhood, across from a park. The park is mostly just flat, used for soccer games in summer, though there is also a softball diamond. Not the most exciting park, I suppose, but we like living near it.

Tonight, when returning from getting groceries, my wife and I could hear motors in the park. They turned out to be dirt bikers racing through the park, revving their engines, and skidding through the dry, brown grass (we have no snow yet). No helmets, no license plates, no lights on the bikes. Safety of themselves or others? Perish the thought.

My wife was pissed and so was I. We do have a family up the street who likes nothing better than to work on their pickup truck engines, then test them on runs up and down the street But they have never done anything like this. I was all for getting the groceries inside, and then calling the police, but my wife had other ideas.

She went after them.

On foot, waving her arms, shouting “Get out of the park!” she went after them. They subjected her to a torrent of verbal abuse (at least, that’s what I thought it was–it was hard to hear over those engines), brought their bikes right close to her, and hit the throttle so she was sprayed with loose park debris.

I was in the fray by this time (honey, please just get out of here not that i can do much but at least i’ve been in a couple of barroom brawls don’t you get hurt), but thankfully, they took off. But not without a last spray of debris.

So to you, park bikers, I have this to say:

Fuck you with a hot exhaust pipe. I’d like to shove it up your ass so far it comes out your mouth. You endangered my wife, you endangered me. You endangered the parked cars on our street with the sprayed debris. You endangered the people who were using the park to walk their dogs and get to and from the local plaza.

Shit, you endangered yourselves. Take a spill, asshole–hope you like the ground burn you get, assuming you didn’t bash your head on one of the rocks in the park. Hell, maybe you should have. I’d nominate you for a Darwin Award, and be damn glad that you’re out of the gene pool.

But what really pisses me off is that you endangered my wife. My trusty Louisville Slugger is in the hall closet, ready for me to clothesline off your oh-so-powerful and macho bike if you ever do that again. Get you off that bike, and let’s see how you stack up without a piece of machinery.

Fucking pussies. Bend over and get ready for that hot exhaust pipe.

2

Good idea.

Bad idea.

Beating miscreants is the police’s job. It’s what you pay your local taxes for. That and park maintenance.

3

I, too, hate dirt bikes and the punks that use them in inappropriate places, but your wife needs to learn the better part of valor.

4

I suggest arming yourself next time with:
1 - a phone to call the police
2 - A camera to take as many pictures as possiable
3 - A weapon for self defense if needed.

5

Um…I think she endangered herself. If you don’t want to get sprayed with debris, don’t go into the park when dirt bikes are kicking it up!! HELLOOOOOOO!

6

The dirt bikers were wrong to be in the park without lights or safety equipment. They were stupid assholes for deliberately kicking up dirt at your wife.

But it was definitely not a good idea for her to do what she did. There were a lot more of them than there were of her, and most of them were probably bigger than her. They could have been armed, drunk, or on drugs. She’s lucky that something much, much worse than verbal abuse and having dirt kicked up at her didn’t happen to her.

You were right- you should have called the police and let them deal with it.

7

Yes, calling the police is what one should do.

But around here, by the time the police arrive, dirt bikers/drag racers/mini motorcyclists are long gone. Keeping punks in line is just not high on their list.

8

If they come back, just set up some loud speakers and play some REALLY LOUD “Perry Como” and “Doris Day” music. That’ll fuck 'em off real quick…

9

You must be hanging around dirt bikes with better (extant?) mufflers than the ones I’ve heard. I can’t imagine those numbskulls can hear their own thoughts (assuming they have any), let alone music from 100 feet away.

10

We used to have a problem with dirt bikes in the trails in the woods near our house. Most of the riders were youngsters. The local gendarmes used the tactic of sitting in the patrol car just behind a convenient row of trees in the neighbor’s driveway. Of course, you could hear a bike coming for several minutes before it appeared, so the cops were ready. As soon as the bike came out onto the road, zap! Got 'em for driving an unlicensed vehicle on the public road. They’d impound the bike, take it back to HQ and only release it to the parents. Soon enough most of the kids got the message (or at least their parents got tired of having to go retrieve the bike and perform whatever else was required, and most of it stopped.

However, there was one fellow who looked to be a bit older, always wore a full helmet, and somehow escaped capture. His bike was really, really loud, and it would wake our then infant daughter (who took *hours * to lapse into a light sleep for a brief nap) screaming in terror at the sudden noise. Finally Daddy, having unsuccessfully trying to get the guy to stop so he could talk with him, had enough. Daddy owned a pellet gun that looked amazingly like a Luger. [It was legal then.] He waited until the biker was approaching and stood in plain sight, raised the pellet gun as if drawing a bead on the guy, and followed his path down the street. We never saw that guy again.