I went to visit my dads brother in santa monica, and after seeing that i had an interest in motoring and motocycles, he shower me his suzuki gsxr 750. Anyway, after a good bit of riding around with him, it became dark, and even though I was relatively new to biking and had just gotten my liscence, he decided I should go out and take it for a spin, accompanied by his trusty pal Marco.
Marco and I were cruising around having a grand old time, perhaps a bit too fast, and when we stopped at a red light there was a police car behind us with the lights on and closing in.
Do you know the joke about the two hikers and the bear? And how the one hiker takes off all his gear and puts on his running shoes, and the other hiker says "its pointless you cant outrun a bear" and he replies, "i dont have to outrun the bear, I just have to outrun you"?
Well evidently Marco was the type to put on the shoes. He goosed it through the red light (roads were empty we were on the outskirts of Santa Monica and it was like 1AM at this point), and at this point, I was beginning to think of him as less of a trusty pal. He left me on a bike that wasn't registered to me or even someone with the same name, just after speeding. So I did the logical thing, and gunned it after him.
After a bit of very fast riding, another police car merged onto the boulevard behind us, and we accelerated even further, until the point that I realized my uncles low race gearing had affected the top speed of the bike somewhat, to the point where a police car could actually keep up. Marcos taller gearing left me way behind at that speed, but soon I saw him coming in the other direction, on the other side of the median in the middle of the boulevard. I never found out why, but I assumed then and still now that it was a roadblock of some sort. At this point no police were visible to me, and so I turned off of the boulevard into some shady side street, where I left the bike behind a van and started walking away, while stripping out of the bike suit and ditching it in some brush. I was still not far from the boulevard, and I could hear Marco going up and down it, I still dont know what happened to him because I came back home the next day and my uncle never told me. I stayed in hiding a few blocks away from where I dumped all my stuff, and I swear in that time I heard a helicopter near by and at this point I was so paranoid that I wasn't taking any chances. come almost daylight, I went and retrieved all the gear, and biked back home without a problem.
I never want to do anything like that ever again it was so unsafe for everyone and I became the type of motorcyclist I always loathed. It was very illegal and in all likelihood I would have been dead or fucked in that situation. Worst decision of my life to run but now I have a story to tell.