September 19, 2012

Plenty of Man for me

I don't know why I think it's so cool that I did my very first track day on a 250. Maybe I should have felt inferior. After all, my company included an RC8, a Daytona and a Panigale S Tricolore. Leather everywhere, and a reasonable amount of testosterone considering the 50+ crowd.
Me and my pit crew.

I was fortunate to have been invited along for a private day by a friend who's a member of The Club atPutnam Park, and, so, yes, there was just the four of us on the track. (And some guy in a Porche, but not at the same time, and who cares about him, anyway).

I got passed multiple times on the 1.9 mile course - in a 20 minute session. I got passed in turns, and of course in the home straight. (I saw a top speed that day of 80mph*, and I heard stories of 157). So, yeah, I got passed.

I'm never going to impress anyone else on a motorcycle, and the best thing is, I don't want to. I impress myself with the way my leather suit feels, the sound of my bike, getting just a little on the edge of my tires, and staying upright**. Oh, I did get progressively faster coming out of turn 10 (45 mph when I got the bike stood up, thank you very much). But who's counting.

'Lil Trip is mad at me, but I think he's better for staying in the garage today. If I have a chance to get to the track again some day, and something tells me I will, I think I'll stick with my little CBR for a pretty long time. Like Ashley always says: power comes in small packages. And I've got a pretty long way to go before I master everything he has to give me.

'Lot's off good advice at the track.
*I would like to note that there was a reasonable headwind that day, the first part of the straight is slightly uphill, and I don't have a pipe. Ok, ok, I was flat on the tank, but give the little guy a break.

**I did have a little moment coming out of turn 10 during one stint. I hit the rev limiter, lost my senses momentarily, and shifted down instead of up. The little CBR gives a pretty good jiggle when the suspension gets thrown in the wrong direction, but it wasn't anything near a close call, and the little guy righted himself just fine and kept moving forward.

July 10, 2012

New Addition to the Family

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Well, I didn't get the big rock I wanted for my birthday/anniversary. Nope. We pulled into the garage after our 6-day, 1,600-mile romp through the high desert, and there he was, waiting in the garage for me: a 2012 Honda CBR250R!

My first single. My second bike. My third love.

Apparently I have a penchant for love at first sight - and my instincts haven't let me down yet. Numbers 1 and 2 are still in my life, and I think my new little love will be, too.

I've had him in for his first service (valves still nice and tight after 962 miles), I've buzzed around town, hit a few back roads, and zipped down I65 to Louisville and back in one afternoon. So far, he seems to do it all, although I am going to have to get used to lower revs, easier parking, a reachable rev limiter, and more men stopping me to talk.

But I think I can live with all of that. Besides, rocks are overrated.

May 11, 2012

Prescott to Nowhere

321 miles - a good day!
People make a huge deal about the road south from Jerome. Yeah, it's twisty and crazy. Kind of like a cirque du soleil. All twisted up, but who can do that? And, if you can get there without a Buick-driving tourist from Georgia taking pictures of the rocks, good luck.

I had a long day planned, and by the time I got to Jerome, I was itching to go. Most importantly, I was going to give my new spring a real test. Lot's of curves ahead, and I was determined to scrub a little bit of freshness off the edges of my new tires, while I was at it.

There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and the saguaro's were bloom. If I thought last week was hard, well, this one was harder. So I went for a ride. Good choice. Nothing like a beautiful day and the need for concentration on fun to take away the edge.

Up through Payson (with a stop at Dreamy Draw for a run and Laura's Small Cafe for breaky), Jerome and beyond was my true objective. Remember, I was told to check my ass for wiggling with my new spring, and I desperately needed some curves for that test. Well, the Buick was there most of the way past Jerome, as well as a fresh coat of pavement, and I wasn't impressed. (Except for the guy on the side of the road selling photos of passerby. Genius! Hope to find myself there!). But, what I really needed was curves and bumps, and the curves needed to be faster than 15mph.

Isn't he cute?
Anyway, I had a great day and felt a little disappointed by the curvy road that was supposed to be the big draw. I cruised through Prescott, stopped for a cream soda, and was on my way. Lil' Trip was taking good care of me. He's always ready, and I like that.

I was ready for a cruise south and to enjoy the feeling of temps rising from 70 to 100. But I totally forgot what waited form me south of Prescott on 89. Curves, a little run-off to make me feel good, changing camber and an uneven surface. Wow. Prescott to Nowhere is my favorite 20-mile stretch of road in Arizona. It straightens out now and then, just long enough to make you think it's over, and then suddenly you're changing down again and holding on. And, amazingly, the vehicles on the road used the run off to pull over and let me pass. It was beautiful. (Yes, Nowhere is a town).
Pretty sure I deserve this.

Well, my spring held up, Lil' Trip held the turns tight, and I'm looking forward to the man inspecting my tires for signs of wear on the edges. It was a fantastic ride. That little 20-mile stretch out of 321 total miles made my day. Me & Lil' Trip felt like one, and I was leaning the with him rather than wrestling. I might go there again tomorrow.

May 6, 2012

Chic on a Liter Bike

Ridin' Dirty
So, I think this is supposed to be a big deal. My first ride on a liter bike. Ok, in the pic to the left I'm ridin' dirty. We left the 'Ville on a friend's FZ1 because, apparently, we didn't have any other way to get home.  I'm wearing his coveralls and helmet, and her boots. They could be the only couple we know who are smaller than us, and she's definitely the only friend I have who wears the same shoe size that I do! It was a pretty good ride home, but we had to get the FZ back to the 'Ville at some point. That's where I come in.

I'm nothing if else, I am deliberate, direct, decisive. So when I woke up the following Sunday and decided I was riding this thing 120 miles south, it was a done deal. I did my run, did some work, and informed the man that I was riding the bike back. Done. Besides, when I told him, he was going out for his second ride for the day, so it was only fair.

I'm not really sure why I wasn't worried about this. Usually I'm more cautious. But it had been a hard week and I decided it was time to have some fun. So I put on my old gear (since everything else is in Phoenix), jeans and my Doc Martens, which I wore for my first 6 months of riding because I was afraid of boots that are too constrictive. (If you're a newby rider, I still think Doc M's are a great place to start).

I told myself I'd go up the street and if I hated it I'd turn around and drive my diesel. By the time I changed to second, it was done. This bike was easy as pie. I thought liter bikes were supposed to be bad-ass? This was a kitten. What was all the fuss about? It was just as tame as my 675, and didn't feel heavy or overbearing.

I cruised through the 'ripple with a cop right behind me. Thankfully the man changed the expired KY plate to one of his many now-legal IN plates, so once I made it through the first couple of turns through the 'hood and didn't get arrested, I knew it was going to be a good trip.

I had two plans for getting there--one back roads and one freeway the whole way. I decided I'd see how the bike felt on I65 and decide as I was riding, and it took me about 2 minutes to figure out that the highway was the way to go. As I65 broke from 3 lanes to 2, I did a little wrist twist to get around some traffic, and looked down to see myself doing 97. Ok...now I know what all the fuss is about.

My little Street Trip squeals at 97 (which is nice, don't get me wrong), but this was a whole other animal. It soon became my mission to do the ton on the liter bike ASAP. I found myself looking for opportunities. Car driving slow in the left lane? No problem! I could have ridden the whole way without stopping, but I did stop once in Austin, just to hydrate and get fuel.

This bike was a blast. I don't think it would be necessary for me to have one, but the liter bike was pretty sweet. So, wow, what's next? Am I becoming jaded?

April 19, 2012

Super Sonic

Ok, this is all about my new spring, but first, I have to say how much I love GoAz Motorcycles. I've never had anything but the very best experience there, whether I'm getting a service, buying apparel, picking up a new controller for my heated gear, or getting my new spring installed.

So, today the new spring was installed by Sonic. Last year he set my suspension up for me, and at the time told me that he did about all he could do with the spring that came on the bike. See, it's made for a guy who weighs about 175, and I'm a good fity cent shy of that.

I think he might have been more excited than I was about this spring, and if he wasn't, he put on a good act. Possibly best of all, though, was his hair. Not only was it died to match my bike, but the stripes were racing fast, clearly a sign that I have "the will to win".

Seriously, everyone there is so nice and professional, and not once have I been treated as anything less than a motorcyclist. Well, maybe Allejandra takes advantage of me every time I walk into the apparel area, but that's probably my fault more than hers. And Brett who gets everything going in the service department is fabulous.

Anyway...back to my spring. So it's in. I was a bit sheepish because I didn't know what to expect, and when Brett and Sonic came out and had me climb on the bike, I felt like I needed to tell them what I wanted, but I had nothin'. The had me bounce up and down, and nodded to each other and said it was bouncing evenly. They told me to be careful on it starting out, and I asked them what to look out for. "It doesn't hold corners very well" or "the ass just wiggles around and doesn't feel right".

Got it. So, if you see me out on the street with my ass wiggling, you'll know that I just have a new spring, and everything's going to be just fine. Just need to get that suspension dialed in.

Wish me luck!

"The Will To Win"

Apparently, now that I'm getting an Eibach spring installed on my 2010 Street Triple R, I have the will to win. That's what the slogan on the box tells me, anyway. Yep, definitely me. I'm getting a new spring because I want to win!

Ok, really I'm getting it because my husband bought it for me. Right now my priorities lie in kitchen sinks and leaky faucets, but I will admit that I'm looking forward to trying out my new spring. He insisted that I need one, and he's paying, so I'm in!

The covers arrived before the spring. Since these items were too large to fit on my finger, I figured they weren't a ring, and yeah, the return address for Race Tech pretty much gave it away. Still a girl can dream, right?

While I'm acting all blasé about the spring, I did make a tell-tell choice when it arrived. I had recently ordered some new clothes from Lole, and they both arrived the same day. Wow. I had a laugh to myself as I decided which package to open first.

This is a little embarrassing, but I opened the box from Race Tech first. Looking at the spring wasn't going to tell me anything more than what color it was, and that was very important to me. I didn't want it to match my matte orange Lil' Trip perfectly, but I didn't want it to clash either.

So, now I'm the proud owner of an Eibach spring from Race Tech that is custom fit to my size and weight. I can't wait to try it out. Oh, yeah, and my clothes were really cute, too:)

April 7, 2012

Reunited

And it feels so good.

He'd been waiting for me under the cover. Still. Quiet. Patient.

The usual preparation went into the reunion. I chose leather. it was warm, but my leather feels so good. Sturdy. Substantial. Like I'm in control. Ready for whatever might come my way. I could have chosen something lighter with mesh, but leather just felt right.

I assembled the necessities. Liquid. Protection. Just the bare necessities, though, because you really don't need much. But one must be somewhat prepared.

As the time grew closer to start, there was the usual hesitation. Just a teeny, tiny small...doubt isn't the right word, because he's never let me down. But supposedly there is a first time for everything, and I didn't want to be disappointed. So I allowed myself just the small possibility that I'd be met with a good effort, a push, a pull, a crank, but no fire.

Ah, but he was there for me. Fired up. Ready. I couldn't remember what we'd done when we were last together, but a quick scan of his face told me that everything was in order and we'd be good to go until we were ready to take a break.

As I slid my leg over and climbed on top, I was met with the sweet feeling of familiarity. That's right, familiarity. Way underrated. There's comfort to be found in a certain amount of familiarity, knowing how everything fits, how it's supposed to feel. But I always know that the final experience will bring a few surprises, which just makes the familiar that much sweeter.

We got to know each other again for a while. Familiar, yes, but predictable, no, so it's a good idea to to play around a little bit with the controls, move around a bit, get everything just right. Once I got settled in I was reminded of the delight and pleasure I always feel when we're together, and the longer we went the better everything felt.

When it was all done, today was another amazing experience. For me, anyway. I hope it was just as good for him. No wild stories to tell, no near misses. Just the unbridled delight I feel every time we're together.

March 3, 2012

Good Fortune

There are a lot of positives here. I was only 15 miles from home. Our friend Stephan was home. We have a friend like Stephan. It wasn't that cold. For my first breakdown, it really wasn't bad.

I rode Ashley's Daytona to our Greenwood store this chilly March morning. 32 degrees. It was the only mode of transportation available to me, and I was having fun. Yeah, I could have taken the bus, but why would I do that when I've got 110 horse power sitting in the garage wanting to go for a gallop?

On I65 just south of the city the tachometer caught my eye. It was bouncing up and down like a seismograph registering The Big One on the Richter scale! It's not difficult to notice the tach on the little Daytona because my head is angled like a bullet speeding to its target. Ok, that may be a little bit of an exaggeration, but it is a sport bike and the riding position is, well, sporty.

So, the tach is bouncing up and down, and I figured that was not good. When the needle rested itself in the down position and didn't budge, I thought to myself, "Hmmm. This bike is going to die."

Fortunately for me I was born with a level head, and when things get a little questionable, I tend not to panic. I checked my mirrors, moved to the right lane as I downshifted and pulled off into the emergency lane. I made one little mistake when I shifted down to 3rd with the RPMs up a little to high and locked up the rear wheel, but a little sliding around in the back end encouraged me to stop trying to be cute, pull the clutch in and coast to a stop.

All in all it was an important learning experience without anything bad having to happen. I figure the more times I experience the feeling of a tire losing traction, the more I'll learn how to control both the bike and my reaction! And, I'm very, very fortunate to have a good friend, who has a truck and is competent. The absolute worst thing that I could imagine happening (other than hurting myself) is to have some idiot with a tow truck mess up my husband's bike. (I think hurting myself would be worse, but I'm not too sure about that).

And, I feel much worse for Ashley that his bike has an electrical problem than I do for myself for having to stand on the side of I65 for an hour. But, hey, I guess that's all just part of adventures in motorcycling!