I've been dealing with an intractable two-wheel dependency issues since my brother and I talked our dad into blowing $353 on a Yamaha Mini-Enduro in 1970. He's considerably bigger and more even-tempered six years younger, but I'm still faster.
After talking the authorities at CSU Chico out of a degree in Information & Communication Studies, I headed south on the 101 and went to work for Phil Schilling at Cycle Magazine. These people want me to list my best motorcycling experience, which I'd like to think hasn't happened yet. But, confined to events for which the statute of limitations has run out and it's racing Lyle Lovett up the road to Mike's Sky Ranch after a hundred something miles of Baja, followed by the obligatory Corona dust-removal drill.
On the flip side - literally - the worst was wading a 2003 Ducati 999S at California Speedway and waking up in the emergency room next to some misguided soul with a steak knife in his neck. "Domestic disturbance", the nurse said. And you thought motorcycles were dangerous.