So, I was on my way to the movies yesterday to see 'Smokin' Ace's'. I see one of my favorite left hander's comming up and I start psyicing myself up. I quickly hit second gear (around 6,000 rpm's), get into position with my belly on the tank and my ass hanging off the left of the bike. I'm right in the power of the little 550 and I can roll it on if I need it. I'm feeling good and I tell myself- "This is it JP, today is the day that you cross over and become one of the greats that are capable of slinging a bike so low as to drag a knee on the pavement."
My words could not have been more real. Just as my knee get's about an inch from pavement in this wide 90 degree turn, at about 30-35mph- the 550 decides to help my dream become reality. As the rear tire's feable little grip on pavement fails, the weight of an old Honda and 200 of my own pounds drive my knee deep into the blacktop and I slide in the glory position for at least five feet before the bike accelerates out of my grip and I am left tumbling still clutching tightly to the left hand grip.
It is in this state of "Slow motion override", when I see a combination of road, skidding bike, and sky, that I calmly access my situation. I say to myself these three things, and in this order:
1. Piss, I just got this bike looking good and now I'm gonna have to start all over. I was planning on selling it in two weeks!
2. I'm gonna be late for the movie.
3. It's 100% the bike's fault.
The last thought has been lingering for a while, and I am really sort of depressed about it. You see, I got into these bikes for the soul purpose of slowing me down. I figured that the switch to older, slower bikes would eventually save my life- and this may very well be true. However, when the skill of the rider out weighs the ability of the bike, well, the fun meter starts to go down drastically.
JP