This past Saturday was beautiful. Woke up before the alarm went off. Got eyes open, showered and out the door for a chain warmup ride.
Gas.
Home.
Place wife on Trumpet. Lube chain as she walks it along.
Tighten chain.
Coffee.
Cigar.
Chain should be set up enough to not splatter me with gunk by now.
T shirt, sunglasses, half helmet and mesh jacket. Summer gear.
Sunshine and heading toward 70 degrees halfway through November. Around the beltway with too many cages and construction and exits and ... and then open highway out toward western Maryland at a steady clip. Well over the speedlimit but hey these speedometers are off anyway right?
Thought about finding the Frederick Md dealer. Had no idea where they were, picked 1 of 3 exits coming up, made a turn, didn't make another, and saw a small Yamaha dealership sign. Pulled into the cracked up lot, wandered past the ATVs and dirt bikes and pulled off the shades to see 3 Rockets, a few Americas, A Speedy and more. Wandered. Resisted the urge to spend money.
Hit a traffic jam on the beltway on the way home. Had time to bust out a cigar and enjoy it before getting off at the next exit and riding a bunch of back roads in the general direction of home. Decided to keep going.
Wound myself up into Pennsylvania and chattered with some non-yutes at a gas station. Each time someone came past and looked at the shiny red and chromed Kawa Vulcan, the black Speedy, me, and the old biker dude, they'd look us around, then fix on the old guy. "that your Triumph?" they'd ask. I've had compliments, but those 5 or 6 people in a row ignoring the shiny red bike and asking my yute self about the dirty black speedy made me grin so much my face hurt.
Still sunny and warm late afternoon, I headed home through twisty roads/state parkland. Saw the remains of a bad enough bike ax in a tight corner, 3 cops standing over a busted up crotch rocket. I felt all 3 staring as I almost walked it myself around the corner.. wanting to see the details as much as I didn't want to know what happened. Wet leaves. Tight corner. Fast bike. A lot of mud and leaves and a slideout path into the ditch, not a lot of damage. Haven't seen anything about it in local news so suspect the rider is alright.
I dawdled a bit pushing toward home trying to turn over 4100 miles on the odometer while still making it home only 20 minutes late for "the absolute latest time I'll be home honey" with only 4098.5 on the odometer. Guess I'll have to wait til later this week.
I babble at the wife, postponing dinner... "I saw this, smelled that, went this way instead of that, heard ... damn stock pipes." Something to work on this winter.
Winter.
I look at the full face, the heavy jacket, the lined gloves, long johns... the gear I've promised myself to wear at least ONE ride every week through the winter, because I CAN so I WILL... and I can't wait for spring to hurry up and get here already.
