Be Still My Heart!
Originally this was supposed to be a post about bicycling, and getting my ass handed to me in 80 degree weather yesterday morning. However, it rapidly became about something else altogether (and also took me a full day to write).
I finally got the Chicken Hawk out of the shop yesterday, after three weeks there (and almost 4 years in very large but separate pieces in several garages). It cost more money than I've seen in years. I could have (should have?) bought a new bike. But, regardless, I have the bike back, and it runs like a dream, and... and... I want to race it. (!!!)
This bike feels like home, and I can't describe it any other way. I have another, prettier, less weather-beaten "identical" one (Bluesette), which I don't like. Chicken Hawk once had a different motor, which I used for about... one day, and I didn't like that, either. MizzD, my race partner, has another of these (Blue), and I've ridden hers in practice, and almost broke my hip trying to wrestle it around Turn 3. I don't know what to say, except, I like *this* one, and none of those other pretenders.
The ride home went much too quickly. The thought of how much money it cost kept clamoring in my head, but couldn't maintain supremacy over, "MY BIKE! MY BIKE! IT'S PERFECT!!!!" Of course, it's not perfect. It looks like hell, and I gotta adjust the clutch for girly sized hands. :) Also, people always complain about how buzzy these things are in the handlebars, and I've never felt it, in 13 years of ownership, until now. Bummer. (Bluesette never demonstrated that, either, IMO.) In addition, the front suspension needs a serious refresh but that could be an excuse to ride down to Computrack in Connecticut, get that done, and pick up my fancy ZX-7 custom-tailored fairing while I'm at it.
The fact that it makes me want to race it surprised me. It made me feel like my old self again, which is rare. 95mph in 4th gear felt so good, but wanted to be more more more. Pushed me towards... things I don't feel like I can do anymore. My life used to be filled with striving towards the well-executed [insert difficult-to-achieve-thing here], and in the last couple of years, difficult has meant something very different for me. Managing stairs, driving, sitting still, sleeping, carrying my bag, etc., those are things I strive for now, and they don't feel very rewarding when accomplished. Not like the perfect kekomi, or the lap that was just that much better/faster than the last one, or snatching a bird out of the air, or crack medical care in an emergency, or pitting all my strength against something and coming out on top. But maybe, just maybe... I haven't lost all that? Chicken Hawk makes me feel like I haven't.
Anyway, the bicycle kicked my ass. I couldn't relax after I got off it after a short ride, and I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror when I'd been done riding and stretching and cooling down and phoning people for several minutes. My face had all the indicators of a coronary patient, and I slapped my hand onto my wrist and counted. Pulse: 120, and it took a full half hour before I felt like I'd ever be able to sit down or eat or breathe right again.
Contrarily, after getting off the motorbike, my pulse was 84. ;) For all the right reasons.
I finally got the Chicken Hawk out of the shop yesterday, after three weeks there (and almost 4 years in very large but separate pieces in several garages). It cost more money than I've seen in years. I could have (should have?) bought a new bike. But, regardless, I have the bike back, and it runs like a dream, and... and... I want to race it. (!!!)
This bike feels like home, and I can't describe it any other way. I have another, prettier, less weather-beaten "identical" one (Bluesette), which I don't like. Chicken Hawk once had a different motor, which I used for about... one day, and I didn't like that, either. MizzD, my race partner, has another of these (Blue), and I've ridden hers in practice, and almost broke my hip trying to wrestle it around Turn 3. I don't know what to say, except, I like *this* one, and none of those other pretenders.
The ride home went much too quickly. The thought of how much money it cost kept clamoring in my head, but couldn't maintain supremacy over, "MY BIKE! MY BIKE! IT'S PERFECT!!!!" Of course, it's not perfect. It looks like hell, and I gotta adjust the clutch for girly sized hands. :) Also, people always complain about how buzzy these things are in the handlebars, and I've never felt it, in 13 years of ownership, until now. Bummer. (Bluesette never demonstrated that, either, IMO.) In addition, the front suspension needs a serious refresh but that could be an excuse to ride down to Computrack in Connecticut, get that done, and pick up my fancy ZX-7 custom-tailored fairing while I'm at it.
The fact that it makes me want to race it surprised me. It made me feel like my old self again, which is rare. 95mph in 4th gear felt so good, but wanted to be more more more. Pushed me towards... things I don't feel like I can do anymore. My life used to be filled with striving towards the well-executed [insert difficult-to-achieve-thing here], and in the last couple of years, difficult has meant something very different for me. Managing stairs, driving, sitting still, sleeping, carrying my bag, etc., those are things I strive for now, and they don't feel very rewarding when accomplished. Not like the perfect kekomi, or the lap that was just that much better/faster than the last one, or snatching a bird out of the air, or crack medical care in an emergency, or pitting all my strength against something and coming out on top. But maybe, just maybe... I haven't lost all that? Chicken Hawk makes me feel like I haven't.
Anyway, the bicycle kicked my ass. I couldn't relax after I got off it after a short ride, and I looked at my face in the bathroom mirror when I'd been done riding and stretching and cooling down and phoning people for several minutes. My face had all the indicators of a coronary patient, and I slapped my hand onto my wrist and counted. Pulse: 120, and it took a full half hour before I felt like I'd ever be able to sit down or eat or breathe right again.
Contrarily, after getting off the motorbike, my pulse was 84. ;) For all the right reasons.