First Ride for a While
#1
First Ride for a While
First ride for a while
It has been a while since my last ride. The rain on the weekends and my job during the week and life in general seemed to conspire against me and the bike. It sat there waiting for me to get on it and never complained about its neglect. It did not have to; I did every time I got into my pick-up to go to work. I work as a courier here in Western North Carolina, and my office is my truck. I use it every day. I used to ride the Sportster everyday, but then I realized I needed to make some money and take care of my beautiful daughter. Now the bike sits and I rack up the miles in my big white Pick-up Truck.
Well, like I said, I have not ridden much recently and I have been feeling really morose recently; snapping for no reason, losing my temper with little provocation---generally being more of an *** than usual. The bike would not start very easily. I guess it was mad at me too. I should know better than to let it sit for so long. Bitch needs attention, too!
It finally rumbled to life...Man, what a beautiful sound!...It shook the yard a little while it warmed up. It missed a little and then settled into its gut jumbling rumble. I put it into gear and lit it up. Stopping for gas, I could not stop the SEG on my face. That Evo roared back to life with its new infusion of life giving food. The overhead of the station shook with the sound of my freedom.
The rear was dancing around when I left that place, my face split into an even wider grin. As I got onto the Parkway, I saw a blue light flashing and some poor tourist with a long face. “That’s alright,” I thought, “I really don’t need to make any speed records right now.” So I enjoyed the nicely engineered curves and sat back remembering why it is that I ride. I could feel my back muscles relaxing, my shoulders began to settle and my backbone straightened. I sat tall in my saddle. Even the slow cages did not bother me---very much.
The road twisted and turned, it went up and down and finally I left the Parkway to look for the road I wanted. Route 151. This little twisty road has four miles of the tightest and steepest wet dream in the area. The DOT found it so intense that they put up almost 35 signs reminding motorists to go 35 MPH. Now that is 35 signs in less than four miles.
It has been a while since my last ride. The rain on the weekends and my job during the week and life in general seemed to conspire against me and the bike. It sat there waiting for me to get on it and never complained about its neglect. It did not have to; I did every time I got into my pick-up to go to work. I work as a courier here in Western North Carolina, and my office is my truck. I use it every day. I used to ride the Sportster everyday, but then I realized I needed to make some money and take care of my beautiful daughter. Now the bike sits and I rack up the miles in my big white Pick-up Truck.
Well, like I said, I have not ridden much recently and I have been feeling really morose recently; snapping for no reason, losing my temper with little provocation---generally being more of an *** than usual. The bike would not start very easily. I guess it was mad at me too. I should know better than to let it sit for so long. Bitch needs attention, too!
It finally rumbled to life...Man, what a beautiful sound!...It shook the yard a little while it warmed up. It missed a little and then settled into its gut jumbling rumble. I put it into gear and lit it up. Stopping for gas, I could not stop the SEG on my face. That Evo roared back to life with its new infusion of life giving food. The overhead of the station shook with the sound of my freedom.
The rear was dancing around when I left that place, my face split into an even wider grin. As I got onto the Parkway, I saw a blue light flashing and some poor tourist with a long face. “That’s alright,” I thought, “I really don’t need to make any speed records right now.” So I enjoyed the nicely engineered curves and sat back remembering why it is that I ride. I could feel my back muscles relaxing, my shoulders began to settle and my backbone straightened. I sat tall in my saddle. Even the slow cages did not bother me---very much.
The road twisted and turned, it went up and down and finally I left the Parkway to look for the road I wanted. Route 151. This little twisty road has four miles of the tightest and steepest wet dream in the area. The DOT found it so intense that they put up almost 35 signs reminding motorists to go 35 MPH. Now that is 35 signs in less than four miles.
Continued
#3
Continued
First Ride Continued
Now, this road is designated Route 151, I forget the road’s name, but like the rum, one shot of it will really kick you’re a$$. It is four miles of curve heaven. Riding this road is kinda like sex with an enthusiastic woman. You start-off slow, there is a long lead to get ready. I call it fore play. This is the part where the rider gets comfortable, feels out the bike and how the road feels and tests what he can do. This part is mercifully short. With little notice though, there comes a split and a bridge, after the bridge there is a park. The track bikes and other racers use it as a staging ground. I kept going, wondering if those guys would follow me.
I settled in to the road. No, not settled, I ramped it up a bit, the curves hit me, I slid into them, dropped a gear or two and slid out. The trees whizzed by. The engine rumbled---my heart pumped adrenaline. I was alive and one with my machine. It wasn’t me, the machine and the road. It was me and the road. We wrestled and grunted and flew. I felt the freedom I sought. About that time I came to the sharpest turn on this road to nirvana and dropped to 1st at 5 MPH, this time though, I saw a little stream falling off the mountain. I had seen it before, but never wanted to stop and explore. Today I did. I slipped out of the curve, slowed and parked. I got off the bike and then I heard the kids coming up behind me on the track bikes.
The first guy went by me. I saw him skid into that sharp turn. He went around it in a controlled slide and wheelied out of it dropping the wheel just in time to hit the next sharp turn. He had a blue Mohawk feather glued to the top of his helmet. The other guys went by, though no one as fast as the first one. I looked around the falls a bit, sat and felt the world get a little better.
It was time to go. I mounted my fine machine, felt her tremble with excitement and we rode hard the rest of that road. Again, I felt the tires slipping in and out of the turns. O MY GOD, this was good! The last turn in the road came and the Parkway was there. I stopped a moment to catch my breath. Getting back on the machine, I rode the Parkway slowly while enjoying the view and the well-engineered curves. The cages were all over the place enjoying the beginnings Fall. Yet, I did not mind them too much. I was sated, feeling the euphoria if post ride bliss. The mountains were beautiful, as always, the clouds fluffy and the air was brisk.
When I finally returned home, I could feel the rush of that ride for over an hour. I cooked dinner for my little family with a relaxed bliss only obtainable two ways that I know of.
Now, this road is designated Route 151, I forget the road’s name, but like the rum, one shot of it will really kick you’re a$$. It is four miles of curve heaven. Riding this road is kinda like sex with an enthusiastic woman. You start-off slow, there is a long lead to get ready. I call it fore play. This is the part where the rider gets comfortable, feels out the bike and how the road feels and tests what he can do. This part is mercifully short. With little notice though, there comes a split and a bridge, after the bridge there is a park. The track bikes and other racers use it as a staging ground. I kept going, wondering if those guys would follow me.
I settled in to the road. No, not settled, I ramped it up a bit, the curves hit me, I slid into them, dropped a gear or two and slid out. The trees whizzed by. The engine rumbled---my heart pumped adrenaline. I was alive and one with my machine. It wasn’t me, the machine and the road. It was me and the road. We wrestled and grunted and flew. I felt the freedom I sought. About that time I came to the sharpest turn on this road to nirvana and dropped to 1st at 5 MPH, this time though, I saw a little stream falling off the mountain. I had seen it before, but never wanted to stop and explore. Today I did. I slipped out of the curve, slowed and parked. I got off the bike and then I heard the kids coming up behind me on the track bikes.
The first guy went by me. I saw him skid into that sharp turn. He went around it in a controlled slide and wheelied out of it dropping the wheel just in time to hit the next sharp turn. He had a blue Mohawk feather glued to the top of his helmet. The other guys went by, though no one as fast as the first one. I looked around the falls a bit, sat and felt the world get a little better.
It was time to go. I mounted my fine machine, felt her tremble with excitement and we rode hard the rest of that road. Again, I felt the tires slipping in and out of the turns. O MY GOD, this was good! The last turn in the road came and the Parkway was there. I stopped a moment to catch my breath. Getting back on the machine, I rode the Parkway slowly while enjoying the view and the well-engineered curves. The cages were all over the place enjoying the beginnings Fall. Yet, I did not mind them too much. I was sated, feeling the euphoria if post ride bliss. The mountains were beautiful, as always, the clouds fluffy and the air was brisk.
When I finally returned home, I could feel the rush of that ride for over an hour. I cooked dinner for my little family with a relaxed bliss only obtainable two ways that I know of.
One Lone Castaway
#7
Welcome from central Washington. Great people here, tons of info and alot of usable knowledge. Enjoy yourself. Geezer