So, today......It is the 15th of July, 2011.
This morning I am a little tired because I went to see the final two Harry Potter movies, and did not get to bed until 3:00 AM. But, that is not what this post is about.
This post is about my motorcycle.
You see, I "tele-worked" yesterday, which means that I worked from home. So I did not get to ride yesterday at all. Even going to the movie, I rode with Bubba.....
So, this morning, I woke up, and walked out, and into the garage. Now, I don't know why but, every morning when I open the garage, and walk out to the garage door lock, I can almost imagine my motorcycle grinning at me, and in response, I always grin back.
So this morning, as I walked up to her, and ran my hand down her tank, I could have sworn that I heard her whisper "YESssssss". I imagined for just a moment that she was excited for what was coming.
I should back up here, and tell you who she is. She is a 2003 BMW K1200 RS motorcycle. She does not have a name, because, frankly I cannot decide what to call her. She is Blue. Blue like the sky on a summer afternoon. Blue, like the eyes of my Ex-wife. I think it is this last thing that stops me from naming her, because all the things I think fit, are names, and descriptions that I used for my ex, and I feel "funny" about that.
So for now, I just call her She.
So, as is my custom, I get my earplugs out of their spot, and start the process of rolling them between my fingers, to compress them enough to slide ever-so-gently into my ear canals, blocking about a third of the total sound volume. This way, I lose most of the wind noise, but hardly any of the engines music as we wind down the road. I swung my leg over her, to push her out into the driveway, so I could put on my riding gear.
As she rolled backwards, through some trick of sound, when I squeezed the brake lever to stop her, I swore again that I heard her say "yes.....". Now, I am a smart man, and know that I am doing all that in my own head, nonetheless, I heard it.
As I pulled on the riding pants, closed the zippers and the Velcro closers on my riding shoes, the ear plugs finished expanding in my ears, and slowly I descended into a more silent world. I realize that this was going to be a good ear plug day, because it was so quiet.
I grabbed my mesh jacket, swung it over, and then onto, my shoulders, and zipped it up. This was followed by my helmet, and finally, while pulling down, and locking the garage door, I put on my gloves.
As I turned, I looked at the bike again, and somehow I had parked it in such a way that I could see her "face", and she was grinning. She was ready.
I climbed on, and pushed the starter, she fired after 1.5 seconds of cranking, and settled down into the low grumble that she has when she is cold. I started backing, and turning so that I could get her pointed down the driveway, and towards the street, and our destination. I cracked the throttle, and she blip'ed and stumbled. I said, "I thought you were ready?" and blip'ed the throttle again. This time, she stumbled and died.
I will say that I was a little worried. Worried because I thought she had wanted to go, wanted to be ridden. For the next 20 seconds, I pushed that starter button, and attempted to re-start her. Twice she acted like she was going to, and then on the third attempt, magic, and she fired. Now, I could hear in voice that she was ready....I put her in first, and off we went.
As we were riding that short 50 yards to the stop sign I patted her on the tank and told her that all was good. Then I asked her if there was anything wrong, and she reminded me about her left fork seal, and the little bit of concern for the tires. They have a lot of miles on them, and I think if it was wet She would be more concerned, but today she said, we should be good to go, as long as we don't go nuts. Well She knows me well, I don't go nuts.
I went ahead and stopped for gas, because although I wasn't "out" of gas, I try not to buy my gas near where I work because it is 15-25 cents a gallon more than near my house. The trip odometer informed me that we got nearly 42 miles to the gallon that tank, and I smiled, and I imagined again that She smiled. She was letting me know that all was well. The rest of the ride to the HOV lane had its drama. There was a fellow in a Civic that decided that he needed to talk on the phone more than he needed to be driving, and as a result was weaving in the lane ahead of me, and going 25 mph. I took my time, and got around him.
Going through the parking lot of the taqueria, I generally glanced towards the entrance ramp, and noticed that there was no one going up it at all. Then looking to my left, the traffic on the frontage road was clear across all three lanes. I eased out the clutch, and crossed two lanes of the frontage road, and eased left into the entrance of the ramp.
I need to pause, and describe this entrance ramp. This is actually a ramp that goes up, and towards the top, makes a Left, and then a right, which merges you into the HOV lane itself. There is Yield sign at the top of the ramp, warning you that the traffic on the HOV lane had the right-of-way. On a good day, you can take the little "S' at the top going 65 mph or more....frankly, I don't know how fast I am going, because there is a lot of things going on, at the same time, and looking down at the speedometer doesn't seem prudent. I do know that often, when not hindered by traffic that is already on the HOV, after merging, I look down, and am going past 70mph.
So, back to my trip up the ramp, I looked back over my left shoulder, and there is no one coming that should bother me, so, I open her up......first gear, the tach swings past 5000 RPM in the blink of an eye, and the sound that was just a burble before opens up, into what can only be described as orgasmic. I shift, second gear, the tach drops below 5000, but not for long.....she begins again to scream in ecstasy. I look over my left shoulder, I am half way up the ramp, and it is time to start setting up for the "S" curve at the top. As I look back, I see a Ford F150 pickup coming up the hill, and it is obvious that he has decided that he does not want to be behind me as he is starting to go very fast.....I swing back to the view out front, She is screaming in second, tach approaching 6000 rpm. That's okay, because read line is closer to 9000. I ask her, "can we do it", and underneath me through the primal scream of a 4 cylinder engine approaching 6500 RPM, She simply says, lets find out.
I lean left, pushing with my left hand, and pulling with my right on the handle bars. I shift, third gear now, Her scream temporarily muted by a large drop in RPM, one last look in the left mirror, and I see that I am starting to pull away from him, my right hand twists the throttle, and leaning every so much more to the left, we are through the "S" curve. I allow her to stand herself up, and, all the while never lifting from giving her gas.
I glance into the left mirror, truck is starting to become a small dot behind me.....I feel her starting into that shriek that tells me that she is close to 7000 rpm. I look down, knowing that the speedometer is going to say something north of 90, I am right 92, and climbing. I let her wind out third gear, and just hang on for the ride.
I shift into fourth, look in the mirrors and no one is there, and look forward, and don't see anyone ahead. All the while a huge smile is on my face, hidden by my full face helmet. Unseen, but, not un-felt. Looking down, I am passing 103, and She is telling me that everything is good, everything is right. I lean down on her tank, and, and as best as you can while doing 100+ mph, I gave her a side hug. Underneath me, I felt her excitement. We are FLYING.....I look down, and the needle indicates something like 109-110 mph.
I know that I should go ahead and shift to fifth, because well, going much faster will attract the wrong kind of attention.......but, I allow her, her head, and for another 500 yards, just listen to her scream in pleasure. Finally, I get up off of her tank, and shift into fifth. Her scream drops, but, underneath me, you can sense an impatience in her, that she wants to go fast.
I am past the North Shepherd curve, going south towards downtown. I am starting to reel in the traffic ahead of me. Perhaps 3/4 of a mile, certainly, no more than a mile, I am starting to see the cars ahead of me getting larger.......time to slow down. I sit up, putting my body more in the airstream, and causing my speed to drop as I also release the twist grip a little with my right hand.
She, as always, drops from 90+ to 75 in less time than it takes me to type that.
The smile still glued to my face, and still hidden. I look at the traffic in the main lanes to my right, they are going abut 20, so, I have to think that those that saw me at 100+ must have just seen a rider in black and silver, wearing a black helmet, flying by on the blue streak that is She.
I love those times when all that comes together because for those brief moments in time, there isn't another thought in the world. There isn't another care in the world. There is just me and She, flying down the road, taking care of each other.
I was going to write that she is not demanding, or insistent in what she wants and needs, but that is not true. She is very demanding, and she exacts a very precise list of things that she requires from me. And what she gives in return, is a peace that cannot be described by mere words. When she goes from a rumble, to wail, and finally, shrieking like a bride on her wedding night, she requires all kinds of attention.
For without that attention, things might become un-hinged, and then things will go from worse to fatal, with bits of plastic, and steel and aluminum, mingling with concrete, and flesh and bone.
But, that was not the story today. Today was about hidden smiles, and shrieking exhaust. I love She, like any human can love a thing that is not alive. I love that she never tells me no, she just says, "let's see?" knowing that I will take care of her, as She takes care of me. When I am afraid, she says "you can do it", and she is right. and conversely when she gets a little loose on me, and wiggles underneath me, I pull her up, and tell her its okay, and we go on down the road.
It was a good ride.