Motorcylce Journal 2
I had a pretty decent ride today, but my fingers are sore. I barely took a lap before heading out to the gas station. It was busier than I expected for 8am, but not anything like a rush hour epic. I buzzed around the neighborhood for about an hour, then went back home to check the maps of where else I could go.
Things were going quite well, and I had gone about 19 miles when I decided I would try to turn on a hill. You know, because it's hard. Too hard in fact. Now I have a nice GOUGE on the left cowl, and a smashed left mirror. It's all my fault, but part of whats my fault is also due to the mold release still on the tires. Sharpish turn on a hill means you roll onto the sidewall a bit...which is basically covered in oil, and down you go. When faced upon lifting my bike on a 35% incline, I turned to a California water resource manager, as anyone would. The two of us lifted the bike and after a brief exchange we were on our separate ways.
I took some "wrong" turns and ended up at Stanford, which was great because I actually know most of those roads (I had been riding for about 25 miles at that point). I turned onto the El Camino for lack of a better option, but it's really just a low speed freeway... Plus stop lights. It's 4 lanes out of necessity, and the speed limit is from 35 to 45.
I'm accustomed to people trying to race me in my car on occasion, but it seemed like every light had some punk trying to out accelerate me. This allowed me to work even more on my shifting. I may have the hang of it now, but I'll have to take a nap first to figure that out.
Excuse me, I need to go betadine my knee.
Things were going quite well, and I had gone about 19 miles when I decided I would try to turn on a hill. You know, because it's hard. Too hard in fact. Now I have a nice GOUGE on the left cowl, and a smashed left mirror. It's all my fault, but part of whats my fault is also due to the mold release still on the tires. Sharpish turn on a hill means you roll onto the sidewall a bit...which is basically covered in oil, and down you go. When faced upon lifting my bike on a 35% incline, I turned to a California water resource manager, as anyone would. The two of us lifted the bike and after a brief exchange we were on our separate ways.
I took some "wrong" turns and ended up at Stanford, which was great because I actually know most of those roads (I had been riding for about 25 miles at that point). I turned onto the El Camino for lack of a better option, but it's really just a low speed freeway... Plus stop lights. It's 4 lanes out of necessity, and the speed limit is from 35 to 45.
I'm accustomed to people trying to race me in my car on occasion, but it seemed like every light had some punk trying to out accelerate me. This allowed me to work even more on my shifting. I may have the hang of it now, but I'll have to take a nap first to figure that out.
Excuse me, I need to go betadine my knee.