shokdimn
Well-known member
It was a beautiful morning here in middle TN yesterday. 
It was early. We were on I40 west, at the western edge of Nashville, heading toward Memphis. When 3 GSXR’s passed us at a moderate clip. Taking note of the bikes and their speed, the rear bike was that “beautiful” black and orange paint scheme. I turned to Hun—wish I could use the term Fang but of course JB has first rights to it, and said, they think they’re in the clear now that they’re almost out of town--watch ‘em roll-on the power. Longing for the bravado of youth and the freedom of open air, I watched from my cage as the trio seemed to float up and down thru the hills and then quickly disappear into the unseen.
Perhaps they were just passing thru and were unfamiliar with the area. An area known by those who frequent it to harbor (probably couldn’t justify using the words infested with) “stealth-bears” for lack of a better term, who, while concealing themselves in the lush foliage that grows tall in the wide median, enjoy the refuge of cool shade while waiting patiently for unsuspecting award winners.
However, knowing the area, and with the trio now having vanished from sight, I say to Hun, “bet they get nailed”! She wondered out loud how fast they were going when they passed us? I offered a “guesstament”. She felt my “guesstament” was a bit conservative. We both smiled as we continued our journey toward Memphis and began to drift back into our own personal solitude while enjoying the tune Hotel California.
Just as I’m cresting another hill, the distance now traveled from whence we were first passed by the trio being about 10 to 12 miles, there, standing at the outer edge of the pavement’s shoulder was the trio. With heads held lowhwell: —one staring woefully at the ground as he stirred the gravel with his boot’s toe, their upper body gear removed, and trusted steeds parked. And yes, their days adventure was being memorialized with an unwanted but more that likely “well earned” award. As they were now in the company of one of those “stealth-bears” and he, with recognition book open, was busily preparing their awards. The extended and downward tilted brim of his hat did not cloak the huge SEG :triggerhappysmiley: on his face. Clearly, being forced to abandon his comfy hideout in the cool shade in order to officially recognize the trio’s accomplishments had not spoiled his day. On the contrary, in fact, he seemed rather pleased.
It was early. We were on I40 west, at the western edge of Nashville, heading toward Memphis. When 3 GSXR’s passed us at a moderate clip. Taking note of the bikes and their speed, the rear bike was that “beautiful” black and orange paint scheme. I turned to Hun—wish I could use the term Fang but of course JB has first rights to it, and said, they think they’re in the clear now that they’re almost out of town--watch ‘em roll-on the power. Longing for the bravado of youth and the freedom of open air, I watched from my cage as the trio seemed to float up and down thru the hills and then quickly disappear into the unseen.
Perhaps they were just passing thru and were unfamiliar with the area. An area known by those who frequent it to harbor (probably couldn’t justify using the words infested with) “stealth-bears” for lack of a better term, who, while concealing themselves in the lush foliage that grows tall in the wide median, enjoy the refuge of cool shade while waiting patiently for unsuspecting award winners.
However, knowing the area, and with the trio now having vanished from sight, I say to Hun, “bet they get nailed”! She wondered out loud how fast they were going when they passed us? I offered a “guesstament”. She felt my “guesstament” was a bit conservative. We both smiled as we continued our journey toward Memphis and began to drift back into our own personal solitude while enjoying the tune Hotel California.
Just as I’m cresting another hill, the distance now traveled from whence we were first passed by the trio being about 10 to 12 miles, there, standing at the outer edge of the pavement’s shoulder was the trio. With heads held low
hwell: —one staring woefully at the ground as he stirred the gravel with his boot’s toe, their upper body gear removed, and trusted steeds parked. And yes, their days adventure was being memorialized with an unwanted but more that likely “well earned” award. As they were now in the company of one of those “stealth-bears” and he, with recognition book open, was busily preparing their awards. The extended and downward tilted brim of his hat did not cloak the huge SEG :triggerhappysmiley: on his face. Clearly, being forced to abandon his comfy hideout in the cool shade in order to officially recognize the trio’s accomplishments had not spoiled his day. On the contrary, in fact, he seemed rather pleased.
