John_Dumke
Well-known member
[SIZE=12pt]It all started last night with a pre-pissing contest. The debate over who was the fastest. Fairlaner or FJRonamission. The debate was really two fold. First a contest of ego and ability, but secondly a contest of physics, philosophy, tire choice, and whether a car tire for the rear was anything other than just a hideous abomination. My thinking? A car tire could not be a proper choice for an enthusiast. More for a high mileage tightwad looking to link 4 corners of the continent in a straight line on one tire. It was clear that today's ride would prove to be exciting, and that history would be made, in one form or another. And I was poised to have a front row seat to watch the battle and scientific experiment unfold. My only hope was that I would not be the one to have to pick up any pieces, which I considered a real possibility, with all of the post game smack talk.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The dual, or maybe it was just an afterschool slugfest, was set for the morning. "Meet me in the parking lot at 9:00am"…. "I'll be there". The previous night I had done a little reconnaissance work, checking in with those in the "know", DCarver. I was led to believe that the complete setup, rider and tire (FJRonaMission and rear car tire) was a solid combination, but may not be able to hang with likes of Fairlaner or myself on God's chosen round rubber. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The group took off north on Hwy 101. Our first test would be route 299 east. A road with big sweeping high speed turns and lots of elevation changes. Usually when I ride with Fairlaner, he takes the lead and I dog him, like a fly on his ***, but from a safe distance, so I knew that my front row seat of the title fight would be firmly in place. FJRonaMission clearly had something to prove and wasn't going to wait, leaping ahead of me like a cattle dog getting ready to nip at the heels. As I watched FJRonaMission's bike cantilever up on to the corner of the tire, I just couldn't imagine how grip was going to be maintained. But the speeds kept climbing. As I mentioned, the sweepers were big gradual turns, so 60 mph proved nothing. But the speeds kept climbing, 60, then 70, 80, 90, now we were starting to make some time through these turns. And "holy crap" if that square car tire didn't stick. It pretty much seemed to defy the laws of physics. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Two other important details became apparent at the same time. FJRonaMission knew how to ride, and he might just be a little crazier than either Fairlaner or myself. Actually, revise the might be, to absolutely. Passes were taken with aggression and complete disregard for other motorists. Kind of like the front row at a prize fight getting sprinkled with sweat from the boxers as they exchange blows. Although, YNotRide, helping bring up the rear, said it wasn't sweat, it was single finger salutes from the motorists we had passed, getting pissed at him because they didn't have enough time to get pissed at the lead dogs.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]When we arrived at the first town, we were greeted by a quiet main street and the presence of two police cars, a stark reminder to throttle it back a notch. Everybody agreed that it got just a little out of hand, and going forward we would take it easy. And we did for the balance of route 299. What could be proved on route 299 had already been proved. While 90mph on 120mph sweepers does say something, it doesn't test the bike at the limit, because those speeds would be just too high. Round 1 was just a warm up with only a few jabs thrown.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]I then led the pack on out of town at a sane pace. I could tell the heavyweights had gone to their corners. Not done, just resting, and regrouping. When we turned on to route 3, we had a more appropriate venue to test limits. Route 3 consisted of turns with more appropriate speeds of 40 – 90mph. And the pissing contest resumed.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]I forgot how we got there, but once again I had a front row seat to the battle, with Fairlaner in the lead and FJRonaMission dogging Fairlaner. It was clear that FRJonaMission had something to prove. The speeds kept climbing, and finally both riders overshot a left hand turn, but both corrected well, and avoided any mishaps. But the incident pissed off Fairlaner, who for safety reasons, backed off. FJRonaMission kept the pace and I stayed in tow. My new Pirelli Angel ST's were now mostly scrubbed in and I was beginning to trust them. I stayed with FJRonaMission, and then saw him run a little wide on a right hander, putting him a couple of feet into a fortunately clear oncoming lane. Still not anything conclusive, because I was not sure if talent had beaten talent, or if crazy had beaten talent. Round 2 now complete.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]We took a quick break, during which I had to hear lots of grumbling from Sir Fairlaner about FJRonaMission's aggressive/dangerous moves. Then we continued on route 3 which turned in to the most glorious series of never ending contiguous turns, over perfect tarmac and with equally as perfect scenery. This section of road seemed to last for almost 60 miles during which the three of us flowed through turn after turn like a trio of high speed synchronized swimmers. Let me say, that I have race track experience, only weigh 165, have an aftermarket Penske shock set for aggressive two up riding, had removed my bags, hang off aggressively to preserve cornering clearance, and I was still touched my pegs a few times following the duo. We were movin', and corners seemed to last forever, one after another, after another.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]After this wonderful section of road which was attacked with perfection, we stopped for burgers at Mad River. I was thoroughly impressed with not only that rear car tire, I still don't see how it works, but also FJRonaMission's riding ability. He may have a few screws loose, but hey nobody is perfect. Fairlaner was fuming because, well I am not really completely sure why, he just was. And FJRonaMission was parking his bike, horizontally on the ground in the dirt. He chalked it up to hypoglycemic exhaustion, as to the reason why he stabbed the front brakes in the last few feet, sending the bike to the ground. Maybe that was why Fairlaner was hot and bothered, he didn't want to be taken out by the fastest hypoglycemic car tire in the west.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]At lunch it was clear we had lost the rest of the group. No surprise there. So for lunch, it was just myself, Fairlaner and FJRonaMission. The tension during lunch had more caloric content than my meaty 1/3rd pound Mad River cheese burger. "Can't we all just get along". Evidently not. Sensing the tension FJRonaMission took off for a solo ride home, knowing he had proven a point. That he can ride whether or not his tires are round or square.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Who is the fastest? Well there really is no way to tell within the confines of public streets. Both riders can push it to what is a reasonable limit (many would not call it reasonable), and only a head to head track day could safely offer conclusions. But one thing is for certain, neither skill, his mouth, nor square tires will hold back FJRonaMission.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The dual, or maybe it was just an afterschool slugfest, was set for the morning. "Meet me in the parking lot at 9:00am"…. "I'll be there". The previous night I had done a little reconnaissance work, checking in with those in the "know", DCarver. I was led to believe that the complete setup, rider and tire (FJRonaMission and rear car tire) was a solid combination, but may not be able to hang with likes of Fairlaner or myself on God's chosen round rubber. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The group took off north on Hwy 101. Our first test would be route 299 east. A road with big sweeping high speed turns and lots of elevation changes. Usually when I ride with Fairlaner, he takes the lead and I dog him, like a fly on his ***, but from a safe distance, so I knew that my front row seat of the title fight would be firmly in place. FJRonaMission clearly had something to prove and wasn't going to wait, leaping ahead of me like a cattle dog getting ready to nip at the heels. As I watched FJRonaMission's bike cantilever up on to the corner of the tire, I just couldn't imagine how grip was going to be maintained. But the speeds kept climbing. As I mentioned, the sweepers were big gradual turns, so 60 mph proved nothing. But the speeds kept climbing, 60, then 70, 80, 90, now we were starting to make some time through these turns. And "holy crap" if that square car tire didn't stick. It pretty much seemed to defy the laws of physics. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Two other important details became apparent at the same time. FJRonaMission knew how to ride, and he might just be a little crazier than either Fairlaner or myself. Actually, revise the might be, to absolutely. Passes were taken with aggression and complete disregard for other motorists. Kind of like the front row at a prize fight getting sprinkled with sweat from the boxers as they exchange blows. Although, YNotRide, helping bring up the rear, said it wasn't sweat, it was single finger salutes from the motorists we had passed, getting pissed at him because they didn't have enough time to get pissed at the lead dogs.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]When we arrived at the first town, we were greeted by a quiet main street and the presence of two police cars, a stark reminder to throttle it back a notch. Everybody agreed that it got just a little out of hand, and going forward we would take it easy. And we did for the balance of route 299. What could be proved on route 299 had already been proved. While 90mph on 120mph sweepers does say something, it doesn't test the bike at the limit, because those speeds would be just too high. Round 1 was just a warm up with only a few jabs thrown.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]I then led the pack on out of town at a sane pace. I could tell the heavyweights had gone to their corners. Not done, just resting, and regrouping. When we turned on to route 3, we had a more appropriate venue to test limits. Route 3 consisted of turns with more appropriate speeds of 40 – 90mph. And the pissing contest resumed.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]I forgot how we got there, but once again I had a front row seat to the battle, with Fairlaner in the lead and FJRonaMission dogging Fairlaner. It was clear that FRJonaMission had something to prove. The speeds kept climbing, and finally both riders overshot a left hand turn, but both corrected well, and avoided any mishaps. But the incident pissed off Fairlaner, who for safety reasons, backed off. FJRonaMission kept the pace and I stayed in tow. My new Pirelli Angel ST's were now mostly scrubbed in and I was beginning to trust them. I stayed with FJRonaMission, and then saw him run a little wide on a right hander, putting him a couple of feet into a fortunately clear oncoming lane. Still not anything conclusive, because I was not sure if talent had beaten talent, or if crazy had beaten talent. Round 2 now complete.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]We took a quick break, during which I had to hear lots of grumbling from Sir Fairlaner about FJRonaMission's aggressive/dangerous moves. Then we continued on route 3 which turned in to the most glorious series of never ending contiguous turns, over perfect tarmac and with equally as perfect scenery. This section of road seemed to last for almost 60 miles during which the three of us flowed through turn after turn like a trio of high speed synchronized swimmers. Let me say, that I have race track experience, only weigh 165, have an aftermarket Penske shock set for aggressive two up riding, had removed my bags, hang off aggressively to preserve cornering clearance, and I was still touched my pegs a few times following the duo. We were movin', and corners seemed to last forever, one after another, after another.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]After this wonderful section of road which was attacked with perfection, we stopped for burgers at Mad River. I was thoroughly impressed with not only that rear car tire, I still don't see how it works, but also FJRonaMission's riding ability. He may have a few screws loose, but hey nobody is perfect. Fairlaner was fuming because, well I am not really completely sure why, he just was. And FJRonaMission was parking his bike, horizontally on the ground in the dirt. He chalked it up to hypoglycemic exhaustion, as to the reason why he stabbed the front brakes in the last few feet, sending the bike to the ground. Maybe that was why Fairlaner was hot and bothered, he didn't want to be taken out by the fastest hypoglycemic car tire in the west.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]At lunch it was clear we had lost the rest of the group. No surprise there. So for lunch, it was just myself, Fairlaner and FJRonaMission. The tension during lunch had more caloric content than my meaty 1/3rd pound Mad River cheese burger. "Can't we all just get along". Evidently not. Sensing the tension FJRonaMission took off for a solo ride home, knowing he had proven a point. That he can ride whether or not his tires are round or square.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Who is the fastest? Well there really is no way to tell within the confines of public streets. Both riders can push it to what is a reasonable limit (many would not call it reasonable), and only a head to head track day could safely offer conclusions. But one thing is for certain, neither skill, his mouth, nor square tires will hold back FJRonaMission.[/SIZE]
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