This one is courtesy of his loving nephew, Jack. My dad loved motorcycles. From the time he could walk, he had to have one. When he was around 15 or so, him and his uncle Ronnie found an old ratty motorcycle that would barely run and decided to use it to go deer hunting. My grandpa had told them that they were going to scare every deer within a 100 miles with that silly motorcycle but, you know my dad...they grabbed their shotguns and off they went. A few minutes later my grandpa heard the motorcycle shut off and figured they had settled in to wait for the deer. All was quiet for about 20 minutes. Grandpa heard the motorcycle turn over and scream to life. A few minutes later, here comes dad, running as fast as he can, pumping his arms and hurdled the fence, he didn't slow down. The motorcycle was nowhere in sight. Dad shot past grandpa and into the house and ran for the gun cabinet. Grandpa asked him what happened and all dad said was, "bear". Grandpa asked where his gun was and dad said, "bears got it". Grandpa runs back outside and here comes uncle Ronnie on the motorcycle, without the other shotgun, apparently the bear got it too. Grandpa made dad and Ronnie go get his shotguns. But it was okay. Dad can outrun a bear and a motorcycle.