An Easy Sunday Ride: Part II
Part 1 can be found in the archives. 7/19/04
Cruising along the twisty river roads... we made our way to Mount Storm. The on again off again duel with Curt was startin' to cool down. The scenery was to nice to worry with such things. We'd settled into our groove for the day. Curt and RJ out front, on the Aprilia and the 929 I learned to ride on, then me on my CBR 1000, and Brian behind me on his 900rr with that cute little blonde. Jeff was bringin' up the rear, hustlin' along on his big BMW.
The sun was shining through the thick rows of timber... there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The river was sparkling off to our right... not 30 feet away. This is really what I came for.
Like all things though... these moments are fleeting. I found myself weeving a little in the road... looking for openings that I had no business looking for. Curt and RJ are shifting around on their bikes too... looks like business is about to pick up...
and it did.
The 929's front wheel popped straight up, and the bike I lust for more than any other on the planet blasted off like it was shot from a gun.
Time to go.
I revved the big bike up to 8,000 and popped the clutch. See ya Brian! We slammed through the turns on highway 7... dealing on more than one occasion with... ahem... slower moving traffic. Now... this isn't easily accomplished. Riding a motorcycle well is just about as taxing as piloting a modern jet-fighter... and that's not me talking... that's the CDC's description.
Imagine my dismay then... when my brother's MP3 player... that had been serving me so well... suddenly erupted in...
Nelly. You've GOT to be shitting me. I'm trying to throw down with these boys... with some idiot rapping to the theme song of the Jeffersons. This is like God's own cruel joke. This went on for like 6 hours... well.. ok.. it was really only two songs in a row.. but believe me.. it seemed like forever... combined with the fact that I suddenly realized that if I didn't piss in the next 5 minutes the world would in fact end.... well... it wasn't good.
In an act only desperation can inspire... I ran down Curt and RJ and communicated my perdicament in the only way we biker boys can. That is to say.. I passed them... doin about 130... while franticly pointing at my crotch.
At the end of 7 we pulled off and took a piss break... By this point I was seeing the world with a distinct yellow hue.. but alas... that's the price ya pay sometimes. Oh for a sneaky leaker!
Before we headed out.. I disregarded the offending MP3 player in favor of my backup. I needed some angry whiteboy music to clense the old palate. We mounted up.. and started the brutal ascent to Mount Storm... along the way.. it turns out we'll cross the longest straight stretch of good road in West Virginia... and I a plan was beginin' to form in my mind...
I played the good little serf all along our ascent... the whole approach to the coming straight stretch. I wanted to lull Curt and RJ to sleep. These are sportbikes I figured... they live to turn and burn... but mine.. she's geared for top end. Suddenly things were about to look up for ol' Nate.
As the Go Point approached... my backup MP3 player suddenly blasted in my ear...
"I like your pants around your feet.
and I like the dirt that's on your knees.
I like the way ya still say please,
while you're lookin' up at me.
You're like my favorite damn disease."
I opened her up... and now it was a game of chicken. Four 250 cc cylinders pounded beneath me. At 140 the bike settled way down as the wind resistance pushs the front end hard. Curt and RJ wide open in front of me.. but I was in the powerband before them and was catching up quick.
At 150 the bike was smooth as silk and begging for more. The world was reduced to the road in front of me, and God hovered over the Horizon.
At 160 I was pushing 9,000 RPM's and the bike was noticably accelerating. I was in the opposite lane to RJ and I was running him down.
Thats when I realized...
Curt was simply leaving us. That Aprilia was pulling just as hard at 160 as it was at 140. It was like there was just no end to the power. RJ and I backed off... and at the reasonable speed of 130... we were looking at each other and shaking our heads as Curt hurled on towards oblivion.
Ah.. but the day was not yet half over. Mount Storm still lay ahead... and now.. my thoughts were lingering more and more on flirting with the cute blonde ridin' with Brian. Hehehehe... I could only hope he was the jealous type.
Yes... this was gonna be a good day.