|Blue skies? I almost forgot what they look like!|
At lunch, instead of heading out to grab some Scooby Snacks, I hit the gym...anything to avoid going outside and suffering for the remainder of the day working when I should have been out riding. I was thankful for no window seat. I couldn't see the bright sun, the wonderful blue skies. Work or play? Work or play? Play?
Finally around 1:00 I asked my co worker if it was actually warm outside or just blue skies of deceit. He reported it was warm and beautiful. Damn. Now what? Around 3:15 PM I thought, Oh geez. You only have so many days of sunshine in April! GO!
Cross (Formerly SquidBike, which was also not his real name, though that would have been funny) and I rode west of Eugene to Lorane Highway on roads that were awesome. Curves, minimal traffic, beautiful scenery. It was perfect riding. The kind of riding that makes you forget about everything but the music coming through your iPod..."I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends... I know better..." (Crap. Meiko is a buzz kill.)
Somewhere along the way Cross suggested I ride his Honda CBR and although I couldn't think of a WORSE idea, finally, I gave in and chattered, "I hope I wreck it." After getting on I realized either my pants were slippery on the seat or I had just peed myself.
At this point I was wondering if I would have time to actually ride away before Cross changed his mind...
Once on the CBR I proceeded slowly so the voices in my head would have time to stop screaming, "Stop you idiot! Stop! You'll poke your eye out! You'll be in a wheelchair! They'll have to scrape your body off the asphalt!" I finally took a moment and let positivity's warmth roll over me (maybe it was the pee dripping down my leg).
I think the CBR is a lot like what I would assume riding on a rocket would feel like...legs way back, arms so far forward you may as well be laying on the tank, holding on for dear life...where's the damn shifter? I gave it a little gas and thought, HOLY SHEET this thing sounds GOOD!!! (Cross's comment at that point: "You just wasted five bucks worth of gas." Oops!)
Ok, he asked for it. I mean, it's not like I've been pressuring him to let me ride it. I'm totally taking this beotch out for a spin and we'll see who survives. It's a slow start as I rev it up too much and the clutch is so far from being let out...and then I'm off. I'm on the road. (And thinking, "I DIDN'T stall it! Hot darn!) I'm cruising along like I know what I'm doing. (Which is dangerous, if you know me.) I give it a little throttle and SURPRISE! This bike is nice. It's not what I expected. The seat isn't bad, the position isn't that terrible, and the power...oh the power is like an old friend who you never realize you miss until you see them again after a long absence. At this point I'm a little pissed I told him to ride in front of me (I mean, just how big does one's arse look on one of these??) because I'm wanting to hit the throttle and see what this bike can do. Of course, I know if I do that I'll take a corner and be eating trees but that doesn't mean the urge isn't there. Cornering on this bike is something totally different than cornering on the BMW GS. There is no fear, there is simply pure cornering bliss.
There is something spectacular about this bike...perhaps it is the fact that my expectation was to hate it and instead, I loved it. I should know by now that I'm usually wrong. But still, squid bikes are for boys and men. It is my firm belief that they were manufactured purely so chicks can dream about who is riding and what joyous adventure is under that helmet. Regardless of the truth.