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|06-28-2011, 09:08 PM||#1|
Join Date: May 2011
Location: Houston area
Feedback Rating: (0)
Experience: 1 year
2012 Moto Guzzi V7 Racer
2007 Kawasaki EX 500
1971 Honda 175 Scrambler
1967 Honda Mini Trail 50
1966 Honda Super 90
explaining what it is like, stream of consciousness...
Please excuse the typos below. A friend asked me what it felt like to get on and ride. Here is my response, based on tonight's expedition around Sugar Land. I am sure you can relate. Apologies to the Harley riders in advance, you have my respect.
Mmm, a better work day than yesterday, but still Power Point this
afternoon. This sucks.
Home to move the yellow Kawa out onto the driveway, sparkling yellow
in the sun. A leopard ready to leap.
Nap, a light one, anticipation.
Awake and suit up: riding kevlar jeans, boots, Durango Demons t-shirt,
mesh armored jacket, Shoei X-12 helmet (clean bugs off visor), got the
keys. Drink of water.
Safety check: blinkers, brake light, air pressure, chain, gas petcock
open...gloves on, choke on, kill switch on, touch the starter...the
Warm her up, takes a minute, watch the gauges respond, ease off the
choke, choke off, check the response, a bit of rev. She is ready.
Now: head fully in the game, focus, flex arms and neck, think about
the next move: smooth power and clutch, tight turn off driveway onto
Shift, clutch, to first, easy stop. Look, head, eyes, look down the
road, tight turn, then another and another and a left, another. Bike
is warming up, the sound of the Leopard deepens as she warm up.
Down Lexington, still not out of third, to Dulles: the long winding
tree tunnel. Stop and then to 45 mph in about 3 seconds, the power
band kicks in above 4000 rpm, the Leopard likes to breath.
Sound, loud, traction, curves, shadow cast by the evening sun on the
pavement, the quick movement of the wheel spokes.... franking
yeah! Luke Skywalker city.
Faster than a Mustang GT, faster than the red Camaro SS...and not even
pushing the Leopard.
Around and here and there: smell the smells, intimate, visor down, to
University: zero to sixty in under four seconds, the Leopard leaps,
and still not pushed.
Fourth gear: above 4000 rpm: fifty to seventy in less than two
seconds. Hang on, the Leopard stretches a bit, still no more than
half power, fracking amazing.
Light on the bars, knees on the tank, lean into the curves, knee down,
the Kawa is built for this: sharp turns, the Leopard is a sport Cat,
not a pile of Harley Chrome.
Wind rushing, buttoned down, be the bullet, be the Leopard, totally
focused, totally aware of the speed, the Zen of the bike, the Oneness
with the machine.
Round and about and here and there: riding just for the of it.
Mind off every thing else.
Watch for the stupid cagers, their idiotic moves, their randomness:
quadrant awareness always, intersections, road conditions, wind, sun
angle: everything in focus processed constantly.
Motorcycle meditation it is: pure and clean and powerful, and totally beautiful.
Oh, you have no idea, really. Trust me, you don't.
Thumbs up to another rider. The brotherhood, the sisterhood, the
inducted, members of the Fraternity: with the courage to get on the
saddle, take the risk, build the skills. Yeah, he knows.
Round and about, one more diversion: tight, fast turns in the
neighborhood, watch the sprinkler wet turns, careful, aware, focused.
One last set, then home.
that was fun. Silly grin, walk her up to the back of the garage,
gas off, lock on, gloves off, dark glasses off, helmet off...go
inside. Just a human now.
Spaghetti and Sokol Blosser Pinot Noir for dinner with wifey, good
talks, she is patient with my description and passion. Good.
Sweet dreams tonight. Maybe this fall: either the Ducati, or the
Triumph. Yeah, the Triumph. There is something about the sound of a
fuel injected triple. 105 horses though, can you imagine?
Tomorrow will be better with the memories of this evening, and the
smell of leather gloves on my hands.
So there it is.
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