Wednesday, April 12, 2006
The Friends I Ride With and Don’t Try This At Home
With 70+ degree temps and the day off….am I riding?
I was invited to ride in with a group of friends so I headed down to Pike’s Peak Harley to meet up with them. Our group ended up being a pack of ten. We discussed the route and decided to head East and then North. Off we went.
One of the riders is a crusty fellow who is a bit hard of hearing. I guess it’s from the roar of the pipes and wind noise (I’m guessing and could be way off base). I’ve ridden with him before and enjoy his company.
Last week, we rode together and he was behind me in the pack. As we are tearing up I-25, our fearless leader signals to pass a slow-poke car and we all make the move to follow him. Unfortunately, there is a cage that is more interested in passing through the pack. I see the vehicle and am aware of the space I have.
Space in which I have plenty of so I look again, give my hand signal (my signal indicator is on already) and move over into the passing lane. I should say had space until the darned car speeds up. I’m annoyed simply because of the lack of recognition from the cage driver to acknowledge that I’m a vehicle on the road. However, in light of the car vs. motorcycle contest…I’m not playing. I may be on a 700 pound motorcycle but the car still outweighs me plenty.
I whip back into the right lane and let the car have the lane. No worries; it’s not worth the grief of getting upset.
Unbeknownst to me, my crusty companion evidently got cut off as well (sorry, wasn’t watching him, was paying attention to the car). The next thing I know, he’s taking off up the highway. I’m hoping that it wasn’t due to the altercation we just had, but who knows. He may have needed a potty break. Whatever it was, he was in a hurry. We estimated his speed to be around 100 MPH because he left us like we were standing still.
As we were passing the Pueblo exit, I notice a State Trooper with his lights on. Hmmm. I don’t see a car so does that mean it’s a motorcycle he’s stopped?
Exactamundo. My crusty companion’s yellow and blue Heritage Softail is pulled over and I think they are discussing the fine art of Colorado’s traffic regulations. My other cohorts, in a show of support, wave as we pass.
I later get the story of why Mr. Crusty got pulled over. Supposedly, Mr. State Trooper witnessed Mr. Crusty and his door kicking expertise and decided to pull him over. My dear friend fortunately didn’t get a ticket for speeding or idiotic behavior—his only punishment was a lecture and the fact that he’ll never hear the end of this story!
The likelihood of kicking a vehicle at high speeds on a beautiful afternoon is like a fish tale—one that gets bigger every time it’s told. I am not an advocate of retaliatory behavior. It is dangerous and could end with tragic result. Of course, he may have gotten pulled over for speeding without kicking the car as well. I wasn’t there to witness the altercation so how much truth is there—I have no idea.
Knowing Mr. Crusty and the insanity of the story gives me pause to think there’s truth in the story after all.
Whatever happens, don’t try this at home, folks.
Of course, we were wondering where Mr. Crusty’s door kicking skills were when a fellow rider (I’m calling him Mr. Crash) tells our group the story of motorcycle vs. school bus.
It’s another funny story since no one got hurt and one I’ll save for another day. I’ll just say it’s a story about a big motorcycle, a new rider, quick throttle, slow reflexes and a school bus.
Mr. Crusty told me today that his decision to give chase to the car was not a wise one. I’ll agree. Fortunately, today, he was on his best behavior.
Gotta love it.
Keep The Shiny Side Up!
~The Rainbow Wahine