To address a few things:
No, I won't go strapped - not on a bike. A bike ride should be about fun, not preparing for possible battle.
As far as what is inviting the "abuse", I don't know. Could be my kit, could be they're just *******s. After all, they're on 250cc dirt bikes, doing 45mph+ on a 9' wide MUP
where they're forbidden.
Lastly, I've decided to give up on the trail based upon the questions from the first responding officer. The first thing out of his mouth was "Why did you call 911 for this?" - not even kidding. After a few minutes hearing my story, he took no notes, and instead seemed more concerned with whether I provoked the perps; I swear I began to wonder if the officer recognized one of his kids from my vague description of the MCs and their riders' garb. Also, while speaking to him I realized I'd talked with him once before, maybe 3 or 4 months prior, on the trail during a night ride. I'd just been buzzed by a MC rider about 2 miles earlier. I came across a police vehicle on the trail, with two officers outside of it. I came to a stop, and asked the officer nearest me if they were there trying to catch the MC rider. He looked at me for about 10 seconds without answering, then simply said "no". I told him what had happened earlier, and
he never even answered back. As they were obviously on an unrelated call, I gave up and rode off - but I was a bit nonplussed, to be honest. Same officer, no doubt. While I have no problem with police in general, this guy seemed the type to coast and collect - non-policing sort, you understand. Thankfully, I'm going to assume he's in the minority.
A second pair of officers then arrived, and I got up, told the first officer I'd go home, call the normal Peoria police number, and make my report. I was seriously wondering if I'd done the wrong thing calling 911 based upon the first officer's questions! The male officer of the male/female pair that showed up after the first officer then asked if he could talk to me, take notes, and see if we could get a sequence of events on paper. Grateful isn't the word - and I felt much the same at the end of the interview when I asked if I'd done the wrong thing by calling 911 - and he emphatically told me no, it's exactly what I should have done.
Anyway, apart from motorcycles being ridden on the path at extremely high speeds relative to the rest of the trail users, apparently the police can't do a lot about it (their vehicles don't have good access for much of the trail's length, for starters). It's not worth my life to ride this trail, and now, though I don't feel "traumatized" so much by the event, I think: "the perps didn't catch their prey (and one ate it big-time in the attempt), what's to stop them from another attempt in the future when I'm off my guard?".
Nope. I'm out.
Some pics of the "assault route" (after departing the trail obviously) should give an idea how brazen these three were, chasing me down city streets trying to run me off the road.
The rider who grabbed me and tried to pull me down crashed right in the middle of the street here. We'd come from the side street to the left, and since he'd already got hold of my jersey before entering the boulevard, I couldn't go the way of opposing traffic, which had been my plan. One down, two still there:
Unfortunately, the road was this empty, and the two MCs were on my tail here and trying to come around me. I couldn't go as fast as possible because I had to weave back and forth across the road to throw them off - plus I was getting fatigued as it had been a long ride in 100+ temps:
In desperation, I jumped the curb to the right, and turned 90 degrees to the boulevard down that little concrete path. They overshot me. I found myself in a cul-de-sac, but also watched two of the three (the fallen one was back up and back in the chase) continue on, to cut me off, while one waited back:
This is where I saw they were splitting up to cut me off. Did a 180 and crossed the boulevard, heading for a business across the street:
Got to the doors of the building in the photo below, but they were locked. I headed down to a second building, all the while hearing their engines getting closer:
I got to the second building, and rode into the entry to the right of the white van in the photo, tried a couple doors until I found an unlocked one, then ran in and collapsed on the floor. A man inside called 911 himself when he realized what was happening:
I'm generally a solo rider, though I do on occasion enjoy group rides, too. Sometimes I think this is a disadvantage, particularly in situations like this. But this was a first, I mean I've never had anyone actively attempt to run me down or off the road.
DD