“A Harley Davidson motorcycle is a marvelous, amazing machine. Imagine, you put a motor between your legs. It’s basically an old tractor motor that has been modified and refined and refined and refined nearly to perfection. It’s hooked to a five-speed transmission that you can easily hold in both hands. It sits on two rubber patches that can’t cover much more than 10 square inches of pavement at a time. It will run well over 100 miles per hour. It will leap forward whether the altitude is 0 or 10,000 feet, whether the temperature is 30° or 110°. It will run hour after hour, day after day. It starts every time you hit the button–wet, dry, hot cold–makes no difference. It will carry you and all you need for any length trip (and if that’s not enough, it’ll pull a trailer, too). And, it sounds like no other motorcycle on earth. You can’t help but enjoy just listening to it: when you are at a stop light or when you just cruise for mile after mile at 85 miles per hour.”
“…… you are part of the landscape when you are on a motorcycle, rather than observing the landscape as when in a car.”
Ken Green
July 9, 1999
Category Archives: Motorcycling
It’s not just a ride.
Near Miss
It was a nice day for motorcycling. I was riding through Manville, on the main drag, just minding my own business on my way to Costco for a bottle of vitamin E. There was a bit of movement immediately to my right at the curb line, movement that shouldn’t have been occurring. It was the occupied beat-up car I had noticed a moment earlier! The dopey girl was still yacking on her mobile phone as she lurched into traffic. ‘Traffic’, at this particular time, meant ME.
The car behind me hit their brakes – hard, I heard the screech of rubber on pavement. The next traffic light, half a block or so ahead, had opened a nice gap in the oncoming traffic. My escape path!
I jabbed the left handlebar forward. The motorcycle obediently fell off to the left in a hard lean. Simultaneously I dropped to the next lower gear and grabbed some throttle. The sound next to her open window must have shocked the yacker, she fell back some while I surged ahead and moved back into the correct lane. Mishap averted!
Two lights ahead I caught the red. She was behind me but she stopped about three car lengths back, leaving a gap. I turned and glared, shook my head, mouthed “asshole”, turned back to the business at hand. The light went green. I eased off the clutch and continued on my way. I was thankful that my wife or son wasn’t with me. The added weight may have turned success into failure.
Please, don’t drive distracted!