Silver Penguin
Silver Penguin
There's been a lot of water under the bridge for us just lately. Life issues have gotten in the way of riding. For one reason and another, I gave up on my regular motorcycle commute, and learned to enjoy sitting in line, warm and cozy in the car, with coffee to hand.
But then my renegade spirit took over, and I got geared up for a ride to work. I was going to take the Ninja, which is easier for me to heft out of the garage and a lot less top heavy. Something told me to pass by the Ninja and roll the FJR. As usual, I was out of breath by the time I'd pulled the bike out and turned it around. Once again, I was able to do it without a ZSD, which was reassuring. The FJR fired up first time and just purred at me, beckoning me to come play. That has to be one of the most seductive sounds ever.
With practiced technique, I threw a leg over the bike and allowed the slippery riding pants to let me slide over the seat until my right foot hit the ground. That way, I have a firm(ish) footing and can reach the side stand with pointed left toe. With the bike in gear and rolling, I'm able to slide back into riding position. Oooohhhh! this is going to be good. Take it easy now - engine is cold. Tires are cold.
The I-Pod is entertaining me with a playlist so eclectic that I would be embarassed to list it. Variety is the key word here, and I have lots of that. The music is set at a gentle, background volume so that it doesn't interfere with the concentration too much.
A few gentle weaves here, to get the feel of the bike again. What have I been missing here? I could have been riding this bike every day, when I wussed out and took a car to work instead. Now it's time for the puddle avoidance. I know that my bike will go through puddles, but it's a challenge to get between them, on a poorly drained piece of road near my house. Not only will I stay out of the icky water but I will improve my control skills.
Now onto the main road. It's time for a little throttle action. The FJR glides up to obscene speeds with no warning. Surely it wasn't ME that gave it that much throttle? Gotta back it off here. We're out to enjoy the ride rather than get a performance award, or worse.
Pacific Coast Highway is always a treat to ride. There's the beach and the ocean to look at, the quirky beach houses, the varied collection of businesses and then the smell of the sea air. You don't get that part in a car (other than a convertible). I love the subtle waves from fellow riders. We're acknowledging each other momentarily, bound together by our common choice to ride.
The challenge of the traffic circle is looming. I'm from England, where there are roundabouts all over. Drivers use them daily and know exactly what to do. That's not the case here. There are so few roundabouts that people freak out and their driving skills deteriorate. (I know that's a stretch for some drivers, to get even worse than they already are, but they manage it). The challenge, should a rider choose to accept it, is to safely navigate the circle, taking responsibility for your own actions at the same time as managing your space cushion. There is little pattern to the random attacks here. Adversary forces can literally come from any direction. It's unlikely that they will come at you head-on, but not impossible. Obviously, I've made it safely around each time, so far. Daily, I learn more about the tactics of the enemy and develop new and improved strategies to counter them.
Closer to the hospital, there are kids walking to school. Some of them wave at the motorcyclist and their faces light up when their wave is returned. That makes me smile too. Will they spread the word to the community that riders are really human people under their disguise? Probably not, but it costs nothing to make that child smile and it does feel good.
Sixteen short miles later, I'm in the employee parking lot, in the newly designated Motorcycles Only zone. It's perfectly flat and level so with a lot of effort, and sliding left and right across the seat, I can back my own bike into my space. Yeahhhh! The long hike from parking to the entrance gives me time to reflect on the ride. Here I am, arriving for my shift with a big grin on my face. While others have 'suffered' their commute. I've been out for a ride on my bike before work. No matter what this day throws at me, I get to go for a ride on my bike after it's done. Why doesn't everyone ride an FJR? Perhaps we know something that they don't.
Jill
But then my renegade spirit took over, and I got geared up for a ride to work. I was going to take the Ninja, which is easier for me to heft out of the garage and a lot less top heavy. Something told me to pass by the Ninja and roll the FJR. As usual, I was out of breath by the time I'd pulled the bike out and turned it around. Once again, I was able to do it without a ZSD, which was reassuring. The FJR fired up first time and just purred at me, beckoning me to come play. That has to be one of the most seductive sounds ever.
With practiced technique, I threw a leg over the bike and allowed the slippery riding pants to let me slide over the seat until my right foot hit the ground. That way, I have a firm(ish) footing and can reach the side stand with pointed left toe. With the bike in gear and rolling, I'm able to slide back into riding position. Oooohhhh! this is going to be good. Take it easy now - engine is cold. Tires are cold.
The I-Pod is entertaining me with a playlist so eclectic that I would be embarassed to list it. Variety is the key word here, and I have lots of that. The music is set at a gentle, background volume so that it doesn't interfere with the concentration too much.
A few gentle weaves here, to get the feel of the bike again. What have I been missing here? I could have been riding this bike every day, when I wussed out and took a car to work instead. Now it's time for the puddle avoidance. I know that my bike will go through puddles, but it's a challenge to get between them, on a poorly drained piece of road near my house. Not only will I stay out of the icky water but I will improve my control skills.
Now onto the main road. It's time for a little throttle action. The FJR glides up to obscene speeds with no warning. Surely it wasn't ME that gave it that much throttle? Gotta back it off here. We're out to enjoy the ride rather than get a performance award, or worse.
Pacific Coast Highway is always a treat to ride. There's the beach and the ocean to look at, the quirky beach houses, the varied collection of businesses and then the smell of the sea air. You don't get that part in a car (other than a convertible). I love the subtle waves from fellow riders. We're acknowledging each other momentarily, bound together by our common choice to ride.
The challenge of the traffic circle is looming. I'm from England, where there are roundabouts all over. Drivers use them daily and know exactly what to do. That's not the case here. There are so few roundabouts that people freak out and their driving skills deteriorate. (I know that's a stretch for some drivers, to get even worse than they already are, but they manage it). The challenge, should a rider choose to accept it, is to safely navigate the circle, taking responsibility for your own actions at the same time as managing your space cushion. There is little pattern to the random attacks here. Adversary forces can literally come from any direction. It's unlikely that they will come at you head-on, but not impossible. Obviously, I've made it safely around each time, so far. Daily, I learn more about the tactics of the enemy and develop new and improved strategies to counter them.
Closer to the hospital, there are kids walking to school. Some of them wave at the motorcyclist and their faces light up when their wave is returned. That makes me smile too. Will they spread the word to the community that riders are really human people under their disguise? Probably not, but it costs nothing to make that child smile and it does feel good.
Sixteen short miles later, I'm in the employee parking lot, in the newly designated Motorcycles Only zone. It's perfectly flat and level so with a lot of effort, and sliding left and right across the seat, I can back my own bike into my space. Yeahhhh! The long hike from parking to the entrance gives me time to reflect on the ride. Here I am, arriving for my shift with a big grin on my face. While others have 'suffered' their commute. I've been out for a ride on my bike before work. No matter what this day throws at me, I get to go for a ride on my bike after it's done. Why doesn't everyone ride an FJR? Perhaps we know something that they don't.
Jill
