This Is What No One Tells You About Crashing, Breaking Down, and Coming Back
If you’re a ripper, then you know—riding hard means taking risks. We don’t flinch at speed. We push limits. We do what most riders won’t.
And while we don’t want things to go sideways, the truth is… they will.
It’s not if. It’s when. No matter how prepared you are, no matter how skilled or disciplined—eventually, the road's gonna throw you a sucker punch.
I’ve taken a few. Still riding. Still chasing the next high. So here’s what happens when the ride breaks, and how you claw your way back.
Breakdown Blues (When the Bike Quits, But You Don’t)
Breakdowns don’t care how good your last ride was. One minute you’re cruising, fully alive, everything clicking—and the next, you’re dead stopped, alone, baking in the sun on the shoulder of some nameless road, wondering what the hell went wrong.
Sometimes it’s a snapped belt. Sometimes a dead battery. Sometimes it’s just the universe flipping you the bird. And yeah, sometimes it’s your own dumbass rolling the dice on a gas stop you should’ve made.
I’ve broken down solo and in groups. In the city and in the middle of nowhere. And I’ve learned exactly what works… and what absolutely, spectacularly, doesn’t.
What Doesn’t Work (Like, Ever)
Let’s talk about Harley-Davidson Roadside Assistance. And let me be real clear:
It. Is. Worthless.
I've called them five, maybe six times over the years—and not once did they come through. What you get is someone in a cubicle with zero bike knowledge calling random local tow companies asking if they “do motorcycles.” Spoiler alert: they don’t. They show up with a flatbed and no tie-downs, and you're stuck explaining to a stranger how not to destroy your $30K+ bagger.
It’s maddening. It’s slow. It’s completely useless. And while you're wasting your time on hold, you could’ve been solving the damn problem yourself.
So yeah, don’t waste your breath. Harley, if you're listening—either fix that system or torch it. Right now, it’s a selling point that sells false hope.
What Actually Works: Survival Mode
Step 1: Get Your Head Straight
Take a breath. Try to diagnose the issue. Can you limp it somewhere safe? If not, call a buddy who knows bikes and talk it out. Even if they can’t fix it from 900 miles away, they’ll give you a plan—and sometimes, that’s enough to start thinking clearly.
Step 2: Find the Right Help
This is where Harley redeems itself.
Call nearby dealerships, explain your situation, and more often than not, the service folks will get it. I've had them send trailers, stay late, even come pick up a stranded bike from a farmer’s field after I left it overnight. These are riders, not phone operators. They're the ones who save your trip when everything else goes to hell.
And yeah, sometimes you’ll have to get creative. I’ve used U-Hauls. I’ve tied down bikes with synthetic rope. I’ve driven hundreds of miles in a box truck with busted suspension and no AC just to get a bike back home.
But guess what? I made it. And every time I do, I notch another story in the book.
Pro Tips From the Side of the Road
Fuel stops aren’t optional. Play it smart or you’ll play it stranded.
Pack a wrench, zip ties, and duct tape. They’re small until they save your ass.
If you carry, carry smart. Being prepared doesn't make you paranoid, it makes you alive.
It will suck. Long nights. Canceled plans. But you’ll get through and come back tougher.
When It’s Not Just the Bike—It’s You
Let’s talk about the part we all try not to think about.
Crashes.
Not close calls. Not "whoa that was scary" moments.
Real crashes. The ones that knock the wind out of you, literally and metaphorically. The ones that rewrite your body. The ones that mark a before and after in your story.
I’ve been in them. I’ve seen others go down. I’ve held my dad’s hand while he lay in the middle of the road, bike twisted behind him, telling me he couldn’t move. That moment is burned into me like a scar.
My cousin? In a wheelchair.
My mom? Learned what Silvadene cream was the hard way.
My dad? Life-flighted off a ride he didn’t finish.
Me? I’ve tasted pavement more times than I care to admit. And every time it happens, the world slows down—and your mind just… short circuits.
That’s the part no one talks about.
The adrenaline floods in, your thoughts scatter, and suddenly nothing makes sense. You’re not tough. You’re not calm. You’re confused, scared, and overwhelmed. And that’s okay. That’s human.
Let the people who stop to help do their thing. Let the EMTs take over. Let the cops ask their questions—and if you’re not ready to answer, don’t. Say you’re not feeling right. Ask for a doctor. You’re not weak. You’re not soft. You just survived something brutal.
And if you can move, get the hell off the road. I’ve stood in the centerline like I was in a movie, stunned, waiting for someone to yell “cut.” But traffic doesn’t stop for your shock. So if your legs work, use them. Get clear.
Why We Keep Riding
After a crash, I’ve questioned everything—my judgment, my sanity, my place in the world. I’ve sat on curbs eyes watering up. I’ve laid in bed sore and wondered if it was all worth it.
And every time… I gear up again.
Not because I’m reckless. Not because I’m chasing death.
But because the high I get from riding is higher than anything else I’ve ever felt.
Even the breakdowns—the long nights, the cursed roadside repairs, the swearing and sweating and figuring it out—they add to the addiction. They're the burn that makes the good rides feel even better.
Crashes shake your bones. Breakdowns test your soul.
But neither one can kill the need to ride.
Riding is the drug.
And I’ll keep chasing it until I physically can’t.
Final Word
If you ride like we do, shit is going to go sideways.
Sometimes it’s a broken bike.
Sometimes it’s a broken body.
Sometimes it’s the kind of moment that breaks your heart a little.
But the ones who keep riding?
We’re built different.
We come back stronger. We come back smarter.
And we come back faster.
Stay sharp. Stay humble. Stay ready.
And watch your six out there.
– Bagger Shawn
Founder, Steel Rippers
Fast as Hell. Hard to Kill.