Down here in Texas, it's a chilly 78F. I thought "I should be a man, like Terry, and brave the horrid weather to join in the camaraderie of the lifestyle that is biking." After all, what else is one to do on his day off.
So off I go on my CB 350f to cruise my neighborhood. I live in the Hill Country, with a mix of gravel and paved roads, a heck of a lot of twisting and turning backroads, and enough deer that there's special insurance for your cars. I need the practice with stops, turn signals, and all that. Anyway, I'm cruising around 30, 40mph, gawking at the vacation homes and watching for my four legged friends when I make a turn and find myself face to face with a steep hill. Steep. If it were a cup of tea, it'd be coffee.
I'm in too high of a gear and not enough momentum, so I try to shift down, and the end result of me slowing, mis-shifting (is that a word), and easing off the gas, leave me perched uphill at an awkward angle. Awkward as in, how'd I end up in this dress and covered with Easy-cheese, and just who are all these women, and what am I doing on this glass elevator.
Okay, no big deal, just ease off the break, and I'll back down, and... I start to tilt over. No big deal. I throw out my left foot to steady myself... and it lands right in a pile of gravel. Crap.
The next thing I know, I'm ten feet down the hill, looking up at my bike, which is on its side with the engine dead and gas slowly trickling out of the top of the tank.
Not a lot of harm done really. I bent the peg, and the shifter arm. I've already bent those back to a workable angle. The clutch lever is pretty bent. I can still use it, but I'm not happy. My front left turn signal impacted, and the bulb decided it was time to blow. No plastic damage other than a scratch. The bike had obviously been dropped before, but on the right side. Well, at least both sides match now.
Pictures to come.
-Dave
