| Author | Message | ||
     Boney95 |
This guy wrote this on my SD forum, thought I'd share it with you guys. It's a rather long read, but worth it. "So today I finally get a whole day, just me and the SD. I’m a new man, energized, full of life and refreshed better than I have felt all year. This is a report on how just 12 hours, 250 miles and the last day, (maybe), of our incredible British October weather can rejuvenate a tired, worn out old fooker like me. They should put the Superduke on the NHS. Six months into having twins and lack of sleep, parenting demands, running a business and trying to move house has seen me worn out beyond belief. I never knew you could feel so tired. Whole family was ill last week. I’ve had no sleep, (can’t remember the last time I had more than two hours in a row), and three major presentations to get through at work. Then Amy said she was going to take all three kids to her parents for the weekend and I said I’d stay to get things packed up and start preparing for the move. So Friday night I get some old sleeping pills that the doc prescribed years ago, neck two of them and pass out by eight o’clock. Wake up feeling like I’m in a dream. It’s six in the morning but WTF it’s like I’m on speed. Do two hours of house stuff and then I suddenly realise that I could just spend the whole day doing bike stuff. Think about riding up to Stafford to the Bike show there but it would be 300mls on motorways and I’m missing the thought of corners already so I set off a bit aimlessly with the thought of some sort of mission. After 20 minutes of London traffic lights I’m thinking that this is SO SHIT – I just want to get onto some open roads and use the quickshifter and use the top end revs that I haven’t even been near for so many months. Since the last session at Brands I haven’t really ridden fast and though the M5s are still showing all the signs of evil use round the edges I know it’s all fake – those tyres haven’t been to the edge in months. By the time I get to the north circular I have to make a decision where to go – anywhere with no lights really – but there’s still no traffic and I hit the start of the M1 with a view to just get some distance from this shit hole that I live in. There’s a madness in me that starts to fire up with every passing mile and I start to nail the gears and love the howl of the Motobox and the cold air pushing through my helmet vents. I know people love this warm weather but it’s a shit in leathers, especially stopping at lights every minute to slowly steam in your own sweat and frustration. 100mph sorts this out a treat and I just start to go faster and faster, smearing early morning cars and delivery vans, starting to feel my sensible nature dissolving and the madness taking over. I realise that I’ve forgotten my ear plugs and my mirrors are still off from the trackday. Having no mirrors suddenly means that I’m riding like a twat, Ok, I’m still doing the lifesavers, but it’s a psychological thing, fook anything behind you, they don’t count, it’s only what’s ahead coming up at speed and needing your full attention. I hit 145 coming up to the Hemmel turnoff and in an instant decide to peel off and go to the KTM place there and pick up some much needed stuff. Got these new Brembo monoblocks on and they are awesome. I start messing about with them at the approach to every roundabout, loading up the front and doing stoppies for the last 20, 30 yards. Then it’s wheelies out of them. I’m torn. Riding sensibly or reverting to a stereotypical hooligan. I feel like I’m tempting fate, heading for being pulled up, telling off by some straight up copper. Endorsements, fines. Amy would be pissed at me. But I can’t stop. Something’s happened to me. Something bad. No….something good! I’ve never felt that happy with these road type M5s. Yes they’re good in the wet, but I miss my Racetecs and I’ve always held a bit back with these tyres – maybe I don’t really trust them. But today I just think, bollox, they’re good and I Brembo smear them into every corner with so much force I reckon they must be molten goo. I push them until I can literally feel them squirming about and the back wheel is just simply floating about in the air. There’s something about the air, the morning sun, the lack of traffic. The tarmac is really good, out of London these roads are like track surface in comparison. Get to Hemmel KTM and have a break and natter with the guys there. Pick up “special” bolts for fixing discs to my spare wheels, (don’t know what is so special about them, 18 bolts with a bit of pre applied loctite - £24 quid – that’s what is special ??) and hit the road again. By now thrill of roundabouts has worn thin so I head for Baldock where I know there are some awesome roads heading West and over to Essex which is my normal hunting ground. So now I’m in search and destroy mode. My old decrepit body has been fully woken up, aches and tired muscles forgotten, and I’m at one with my trust SD. To be honest, who ever is reading this, 2011 has been a pitiful year for me and motorcycling. In 40 years riding I don’t think that I’ve ever spent less time riding. But instead I’ve turned into the worst sort of biker – one that has a great, fully specked up bike sitting out under a cover that isn’t fired up enough. To my shame I’ve twice found the battery flat when I actually do go out to ride. And because I’m so time poor when it matters I find that I compensate by buying shit off e bay and constantly adding even more bits of kit and stuff. I have just about time to do this but it’s not actually going out to ride. So my bike is well fettled and well set up. But I only did 4 trackdays this year and I guess less than 2,000mls on the road. What a twat! But all is forgiven now. The bike has forgiven me. It’s telling me that this is what it wanted to do all summer, forget about the responsibilities, the mortgage, the housework, the kids, the everything. It’s saying thanks for the new calipers and the clutch slave, thanks for the quick clean last night and the oil top up. Thanks for the total thrashing you are about to give me. I swear the SD is like one of those totally mad porn stars who is utterly beautiful but then just starts screaming for the guy to totally abuse her and rip her apart. Shocking but compelling. And I would have been utterly heartless not to comply. Don’t know how my bike compares with yours? But with a full Ti System, Motobox and custom map this thing howls to the red line in every gear except top. Since the mods I remember feeling like it had some sort of supercharger that just doesn’t stop pushing the power – it’s a total adrenaline rush and with a quick shifter the power is just about seamless from first gear through to the end when most often you’re going so warp speed that is only ended because of the inevitable conditions ahead. The roads have opened up now, I’m on fast A and B roads with hedgerows and mad corners, lights and buildings long gone. Every straight is a blur of smooth gears with the only thought about the next corner and calculating how late to brake. Cars come up as though they are in reverse and are dispatched fast and efficiently. They are a total irrelevance as I snatch fleeting glimpses of couples and old people sitting in their slow motion boxes fiddling with i -phones and discussing their trips to the local supermarket, (whatever). I’m riding the torque in some places, just using the massive surge of power. Other times I knock it down and scream about with my ears bleeding with induction road. Through villages I can hardly keep my balance at 30 miles an hour, my recalibrated brain just will not accept that it is possible to stay upright at this speed. It feels like the whole world has slowed to a pace that I cannot function in. I miss Klinky and Shade at this point. They too live in this world of fast forward – the Colonel, when you are following him, is visibly frustrated by the 30mph village run throughs – you can see his feet tapping about on the rests and he rides one handed with his spare hand tapping out the rhythm to the, (presumably), frantic music he wires into his helmet when riding. Shade – well he just doesn’t slow down! Stopped in at Stevenage because there’s a Dainese retailer there so I though I’d have a break and look at loads of stuff I can’t afford to buy! Never seen a limited edition Dainese suit before – this cost over £2,000 but was on sale at £1,300 WTF!! Not sure if I love it or loath it. Couldn’t decide. Bought a T shirt though, £13. Noticed that there was a lot of guys in their 40’s getting fitted out with kit. Spent ages there just hanging about listening to the conversations with their other halfs. The general theme was that they all argue that they should get good kit because it was all about safety and protection and their wifes were all, “But it’s so expensive and how much have you spent already, it’s all mounting up you know…” Ha ha. Went and sat in a Starbucks opposite and had a double-shot cappuchino out on the street and reflected on life, watching the Saturday morning pedestrians, families and youth. It’s a strange thing being in full leathers, fly splattered, booted up, crackling with aftemath of adrenalin, juggling to cope with helmet, Kreiga bag and tray of full cappuccino cup – sitting at a table surrounded by the others. Those other people who make up the rest of the world who don’t ride bikes, who know nothing of the world that I’ve just spent three hours in, nothing of what’s in my mind, nothing of what I’m about. But they carry on regardless, maybe passing some occasional judgement about me and the other leathered up bikers that are sitting about, but I don’t really know. When I was younger I’d hang about with big bike gangs and we caused a problem I suppose – intimidating maybe for some. But we were all young, 17,18 years old. Bike gangs were part of the world I grew up in. Now it’s all middle aged guys like me. And I have 5 kids, I run a successful design company. I probably earn 5 times what most of these people earn. I pay my taxes, I’m a good guy. I look across at a couple with a baby in a high chair, it’s just woken up and I can see the exchange of glances which means, “It’s your turn love, I’m just getting relaxed and she needs a nappy change” and I briefly feel a surge of nostalgia for the babies I left behind. But here, right now, I feel an alien, and I’m happy because I don’t want to be part of their world, not today. Suddenly I just want to go, I can see the SD across the street outside the bike shop. Even from here I can see the V twin motor the still warm back tyre and the twist grip and the sun shining off the carbon. What the fook am I doing sipping poncy yuppy coffee when that’s on offer? I grab my stuff and, like some Spitfire scramble crew, head off for another mission. I’ve carved a route roughly 50 miles from London in radius from North West to North East and now I’m crossing the M11, past Bishops Stortford, into Essex and into the roads I know better with more opportunity for choosing routes that I know will deliver what I’m looking for. I want fast bits but what I really want is corners – I miss the track where it’s knee down every corner and just the focus on tyre grip and exit speed but I know I’m not going to find it out here – wishful thinking. But there are some good places and corners with a good view so there’s no traffic visible and you can go for it. So I get into my riding a bit more, realise that I have some bad habits. I leave my braking too late for corners which leaves me with the brakes on when I should be at neutral and ready to accelerate and I can see that this unsettles the bike so I start to do the old coaching on myself and soon I’m getting things better and what a difference it makes. God, this bike can lean and you can put the power down so early in corners and the more you nail it the more it feels planted. I start playing with the Scotts damper to see what difference it makes – it’s a sensitive bit of kit indeed – every click changing the way you sense the counter-steering and how it tightens up the steering feel. Keep stopping to admire the view but all I can see is the SD It’s two o’clock, I’ve been riding more or les for 5 hours at full chat and I’m in the groove. Me and the bike are one. I fooking love this bike, I’ve owned a lot and ridden a lot more. And this is the best one. Sometimes I think about getting another with more power but to be honest this is the right amount for British roads I think, it’s well fast enough and the handling and suspension is spot on. I wheelie out of every junction, I tip into every roundabout like it’s Druids, I hit the rev limiter on every gear, I mash the tyres, I wobble on every full-throttle crest, I just keep on pushing and this bike does not ever let me down. Sometimes the quickshifter throttle combo creates a bang and the hedgerow detonates, sometimes I pass a car on the over-run and the driver has a coronary. Sometimes I just start cackling out loud and woop with joy! I’m starving and I realise that I’m at a point where I can turn back to London and home. But Finchingfield is within 20 miles, (the wrong way) and it’s a big bike meet point and a good pub so I slam the throttle shut and dither for a hundred yards or so while I ponder what’s the best thing to do. The junction approaches and at the last minute Karma takes over and I speed away to Finchy and a pie with chips. Very different sitting here because I’m surrounded by bikers and biker friendly café and pub staff. This is a very picturesque village but a Mecca for bikes and you can sit in the sunshine, (in October!!), watching bikes come and go all day. Sometimes it has too much police presence in the area but I think this late in the year they have forgotten about us. I’m content, I’m full of pie and I’ve had a good run. I finish up and set off on the 40 miles back home. These are roads I know well. I must have done this route a hundred times. It makes a big difference to the way you ride. Instead of having to see and feel your way round every unknown bend you have a vision of the layout and the road surface. It’s more like on a track, you can go faster! Only problem was that the sun was setting and I had a clear visor so the road surface was hard to read. Pissed me off big time! Stopped at Epping at the bike park there and pulled up next to this fantastic 50’s Triumph. Loved the two of these bikes meeting, I reckon this was the stealth bike of it’s time. It was like a reunion. Home now. Put the bike under it’s covers, washed the bugs off my helmet, had a pizza and a bottle of wine and I feel better. So. The moral of this story is. If you find yourself depressed, disillusioned, worn out, or otherwise disenfranchised. Get out on you bike and sort your self out! It worked for me. Thanks for reading." | ||
| Thumper74 |
I think we all get it... Marriage woes, depressed, stressed out, etc. and the Buell helps. My stress level is directly proportionate to how much I've ridden the bike. | ||
| Chauly |
I know exactly how he felt; thanks for posting this... | ||
| Brumbear |
GAWD I wanna ride!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! | ||
| Bolthead |
The truth is some of us are hardwired to only be happy when they get an adrenalin boost every day or two. Our ancestors got shots of adrenalin hunting large game with sharp sticks. These prehistoric adrenalin junkies probably hunted more than the more placid guys. Consequently they provided more food to their families, and more of their children survive to adulthood to pass-on the genes for adrenalin addiction. As for me I don't know how I could have made it these past few years without my XB21R. | ||
| M2statz |
I work with 23 women. My stress level is usually a little high when I leave work. Nothing against the female sex mind you, but when you get that many together it is estrogen overload. My M2 is my stress relief. The several times that I have had opportunity to chat with Erik and some of the Elves, I thank him and them for making THE best stress reliever the I can have. My long way home is one of several different routes that totals around 30 to 45 miles. My wife doesn't care because she knows that I am in a much better place when I get home. | ||
| Trackdad |
Throttle Therapy DOES work!!! | ||
| Mr_grumpy |
I know the part of the world he's talking about & he's spot on the money too. |
