| Author | Message | ||
     Wyckedflesh |
Its Superbowl Sunday and there I sat quietly perusing the net when I read this post over in the AZ buellers section about a get together that day for the big game. Being tired of the four walls I quickly don my leathers, make a couple of calls, jot down some directions. A quick jaunt to switch to my black knight, stop at the fuel pump to give her the juice and then GONE! A riding we go. I roll out of Phoenix at a casual 85/90 along with all the other traffic around me. So I am zipping along and moving through traffic easily, just going a hair quicker to stay out of trouble til I get to a long stretch of open road then of course its a little shift of throttle and the bike surges forward the road does its magic and the traffic ahead comes up nice and quick. Let off the throttle to bring it back down to sane speeds, casually work my way through the patch of traffic and then do the ritual again. My sacrifice to the goddess of speed, I open her up again, careful to keep it around the ton mark til I catch up on the next patch. Again squirm my way forward, tossing the occasional thumbs up to people waving and pointing and all around enjoying the ride...mmm...the ride...Well about 4 packs down the road, maybe an hour and a half into the ride it happens. A cruiser all clad in white with flashy flashy lights atop sets in behind me in a pack and proceeds to rain all over my ride. I had been setting in the pack at the same pace as everyone else but alas it is me he is stopping. Flip on the signal, raise my arm, carefully pull to the side knowing I was in excess, but feeling confused since of the 10 or so cars I was the one getting stopped. WE were all cruising nicely at a sedate 90, that is til the lights went flashy flashy, then of course everyone slowed right down to the posted 75... All pulled over, I reach down and turn off the key, pull off my gloves and lay them on the bars, and start undoing my helmet. What can I say I knew with my earplugs I wasn't going to hear a damn thing he said. So a young Johnny Law does his strut, a strut I can see in my mirror. Grin on his face as he steps up to me still astride my black steed. "Liscence and registration please," he grins at me. "Its in my jacket officer," I reply as I make a show of opening my jacket. Hrmmm...to much time in the big city I think cause he looks alittle confused at the fact I am making sure he knows what my hands are doing but hey, you can't blame a guy for being safe. Another cruiser rolls up and parks in front of me. Pull out my little Invader Zim wallet from my kids which gets a smirk from the new Trooper but he just grabs one wrist with his other hand and does the "I am BAD" look. Pull out my liscence, my reg and my insurance card. "So you are from out of state...long ride here isn't it?" Asks the officer. "Here for some classes officer" I smile back still unsure what exactly I am facing. At which point I was enlightened as if he could read my mind..."You understand that we pulled you over for speeding don't you?" he says, his grin seemingly getting more wide and feral all in the same instance. "I was moving with traffic sir, I hadn't noticed the actual speed." Was my simple reply. "Oh no you weren't. Air patrol clocked you at 160+ miles per hour not to far back there." CHOKE! "Uhm..excuse me?" The confusion had to have been obvius because he stopped his turn as he was getting ready to walk back to his cruiser with my paperwork. "Air patrol tagged you at 160. Black sportbike, black leathers doing 160 no don't play dumb with me..." Dont ask me what came over me, I plead insanity...temporary shoick syndrome...160......no way..uh huh, nope not gonna happen...But while my mind was trippign over his words my hand of its own volition moved forward like a mongoose on a snake. It snatched the keys and pulled them from the ignition, then my mouth took over. Before I knew what was going on it opened and spewed forth "here, you try it..." The words echoed through my head as I held the keys nice and steady out to the trooper. Young Johnny took his hand from his side arm as he realised I was just handing him the keys..."Try what?" he asks with narrow eyes. "You try and do 160 on this thing..." I clarify for him..."Its only geared for 130 maybe 140 with a good backwind" I tell him. The sight before me is priceless as he looks at the other trooper who is till doing his "I am BAD" impersonation. The sheer look of suprise at the thought that there were more then one black leather clad rider rocketing through the desert on a black steel horse with no name. "Well I have to check this anyways" he says as he recovers his composure. My mind replaying the look of shock over and over as he calls in all my info and everything. A few minutes later he walks back and waves the other trooper off, who hadn't moved the whole time. "You have a good day sir, it seems we stopped the wrong rider. Just try and keep the speeds down ok?" he says with a smile as he hands my paperwork and liscence back... As I pulled back onto the road I shook my head at the thought of my stock motored 12 doing 160 and damn if it didn't start a reaction that made the front of my leather jeans damn uncomfortable...damn wood... | ||
| Bartimus |
Hey Wycked, Padding on the gas tank will cure that wood problem...  | ||
| Jonsbuell |
WAS THAT 160 KMH? LOL! |
