A week ago Friday, I met up with Scott and Ed to try and retrace a southern route they had been led along a few days earlier, as we are always looking for another run option to add to the Sunday morning ride bag. It was a little disjointed as the other guys tried to remember which roads had been taken, but I was mostly just along for the ride. Adding just a few more needed break-in miles and enjoying the afternoon off from work.
During this past week, Lucas, Janine, Scott, Ed, Alex and I had a couple of day rides up to Americade. The event has certainly felt the effects of the down economy the past few years, and it’s very evident to see the accumulated changes over the past many years. But we all were able to catch at least a couple of demo rides and regardless of the pace and the traffic and the unknowns of those surrounding you on these rides, it's always fun to jump on someone else's brand new bikes and push them as much as you can get away with. Last year was a spectacular weather anomaly with 5 beautiful days; this year not so much. We all paid the price on the way home Wednesday in a downpour, with a half day of bike cleaning to follow. Still -- better than any day at work.
Today we went down to Rhinebeck to see, as Doug stated, where our sport came from.
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| Better than new, and a bit more expensive |
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| His work here nearly done, the Man In Black prepares to ride off |
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| Ed finds his Special Purpose |
I have little interest in hardware which predates me, but that span is getting pretty long now as it is. It was a kick to see the Hondas and Triumphs of the '60's (like the gem Doug picked up) that I remember would go by my house when I was a kid, and I'd always stop playing to look up and watch them pass. The mini-bikes and go carts of the early '70's that were my introduction into the world of Moto. The Kawasakis and Yamahas of the mid and late '70's that were the stuff of my teenage lust and indeed, eventually the first street motorcycles I rode and got my license with.
Somewhere about halfway along the ride down today, I stopped being caught up in the activities of riding where we all focus on traffic and the possible pass we may need to make soon and what's in our mirrors and the surface of the road and all the other basic survival skills. Looking across the vistas at mountains passing to the right, I realized I was doing what I enjoy most, on a bike I'm pleased to own, in the company of friends I've known for years, on a beautiful, sunny, blue-sky day: Motorcycling. I recounted how I've wanted to do this as long as I can remember, all the bikes I've ridden, and how just about three decades ago Scott and I began street riding together, and I was on a similar colored green bike back then. I will confess to having Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead Or Alive" running through my head, as I've been watching too much "Deadliest Catch" lately, and I was very grateful to be there at that moment.
Part of the enjoyment I have derived over years of riding is often from watching the person riding in front of me. You can't see yourself, but you watch that person, and you see in front of you displayed the sensations that you are feeling: the acceleration, the banking through sweeping turns, the setup and execution of tight corners. When it is working, I feel sort of like what I imagine fighter pilots may feel flying in formation. That person you ride with becomes an extension of you. Hopefully, they don't suck. :)
I've seen this following Scott for many, many years, on many different motorcycle types. I became aware of this sensation again while following Doug home from Rhinebeck today. I was mostly lost when were weren't on Rt66, but it was some great sweeping roads in excellent condition at a pace that was brisk but no strain. It was a very good ride.
Overall, a good week of vacation. Hope to see you all out there along the way.
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