A Ride, A Pucker Moment and A Reunion

Yesterday was the first time in a while that my bike did not feel totally comfortable underneath me. It was so strange. I found myself really apprehensive with some of the more challenging curves on our route and when we pulled off for a break, I was so relieved.

Perhaps it was the cold. Experienced riders tell me that the bikes perform much better in warmer weather. Maybe it was the wind which threw me around a bit. There is also the fact that I was following Mark. He was on a Suzuki Bandit, which is a racing bike and it executes the twists and turns differently than a Harley. It is compact, agile and make-your-eyes-water fast. In any case, as the day wore on I adjusted.

We stopped for a late lunch at a known biker place and took in the local scenery, which happened to come in the form of some pretty colourful people.

There are three distinct biker groups. You have people like me who go to work everyday in an office and break out the leather on the weekends. Then there are the metric devotees like Mark, who are also nine to fivers but they often ride EVERYWHERE because that rush is as necessary to them as breathing. Finally, there is the third group. These folks are hard core bikers. The stereotype. Rough, tough, unwashed, cigarette-smoking, whiskey-swilling, scary types who have scarred knuckles and dirty fingernails. And that's just their women....

Anyway, the place was full of all three and although nothing out of the ordinary happened, there was a feeling that at any moment, something could.

On the way home, I noticed that my throttle was sticking quite badly. I'd change gears and the rev would stay on until I purposely rolled it off. Finally, it got so bad that I made a left turn and it stuck as I changed into second gear. I immediately pulled up out of the curve, took a curb straight on and came to a quick stop in a bank parking lot. I silently gave thanks to Tim and Trey (my instructors) because they drilled us on this exact situation and although I chewed on my heart, I survived it without dropping the bike. As it turns out, there is a small cruise control nut that I had unconsciously nudged tighter with the knuckle on my thumb every time I rode the bike. I had finally wound it to the point where the nut stuck and the throttle stayed in an open position. For some reason, my left turn signal relay went bad at the same time, too.

So, I got home eyeballed Big Boy and decided that it was time to take him on real roads and not just my neighbourhood streets.

He rides like a dream.