So, Marilyn and I took the FJR out Sunday with a plan to meet brothers Lib and Scott in Three Forks, Montana, for a Sunday ride. As we pulled up the ramp onto I-90 at Cardwell that morning, a very tight pack of very loud Harleys went sailing by going in the same direction. They were doing about 80, me about 85 so I gradually reeled them in.
Amazing! These guys were riding in two rows of six, just one, maybe two bike lengths between each rider. Their movements were as precise as a Marine drill team - just perfect unison. When one hit the throttle, they ALL hit the throttle - at the same time, every time (tremendous roar). When one rolled off, they ALL rolled off; when one moved left to pass, they ALL moved left to pass. At first I thought they might be some kind of precision motorcycle drill team (stupid me - hey, it's Sunday morning!).
Only as I began to pass the whole group did I see them flying the colors of the Hells Angels! Er... big surprise (they were wearing helmets, fer chrissake!)! I wicked it up to about 90 and just kept on a'goin', not willing to wait around to see if my offense (Jap bike passing Angels) was grave enough to be run down and beaten, stomped and chain whipped within an inch of my life. I was also glad they had plenty of fuel and didn't need to stop at the Three Forks Town Pump where we waited for our partners. The Angels had just conducted their annual summer pow-wow at Missoula, about 150 miles up I-90 and this group was likely heading to Sturgis. And, of course, they couldn't have run me down unless I let them.
A lot of Harley riders (I know, there are many, many exceptions) I see are not very skilled riders. Well, I think I can safely say, these Angels can ride! Any other group of bikers trying their extremely tight formation at 80 mph would soon wind up in a massive twisted pile of motorcycles and bodies. These guys were impressive! Not my style at all, but impressive!
As an aside, as my brothers Lib and Scott pulled in, I inspected my rear tire. I (once again! dammit!) saw cords beginning to show through the rubber in the center even while plenty of tread remained. Thus, Marilyn and I were unable to accompany them on what turned out to be a very nice three hundred mile loop through Ennis, Virginia City and Twin Bridges. Dang! This was a Pirelli Diablo - went 2,900 miles! And yes, I pay close attention to inflation. Must have been the 1,000 miles we did over the Beartooth and Bighorns of Wyoming last week.
Also as an aside, Lib is riding a brand spanking new '08 FJR AE (had just under 100 miles on Sunday). He rode my '03 awhile ago and was impressed. Much reading and research and he pulled the trigger last week. He is ecstatic, to say the least. He has registered here as "Rusty," short for a derisive nickname - "Rusty Licks" - given him because of his guitar playing prowess, which is really quite extraordinary - Strat Clapton Special. He opted for the AE because of troublesome arthritis in his hands and wrists, which doesn't seem to impede his tasty guitar chops but, he says, causes him some awful pain and requires lots of meds. He called last night to report that after 300 miles - no pain! I think he has just become a hard-core ST rider.
Big Sky
Amazing! These guys were riding in two rows of six, just one, maybe two bike lengths between each rider. Their movements were as precise as a Marine drill team - just perfect unison. When one hit the throttle, they ALL hit the throttle - at the same time, every time (tremendous roar). When one rolled off, they ALL rolled off; when one moved left to pass, they ALL moved left to pass. At first I thought they might be some kind of precision motorcycle drill team (stupid me - hey, it's Sunday morning!).
Only as I began to pass the whole group did I see them flying the colors of the Hells Angels! Er... big surprise (they were wearing helmets, fer chrissake!)! I wicked it up to about 90 and just kept on a'goin', not willing to wait around to see if my offense (Jap bike passing Angels) was grave enough to be run down and beaten, stomped and chain whipped within an inch of my life. I was also glad they had plenty of fuel and didn't need to stop at the Three Forks Town Pump where we waited for our partners. The Angels had just conducted their annual summer pow-wow at Missoula, about 150 miles up I-90 and this group was likely heading to Sturgis. And, of course, they couldn't have run me down unless I let them.
A lot of Harley riders (I know, there are many, many exceptions) I see are not very skilled riders. Well, I think I can safely say, these Angels can ride! Any other group of bikers trying their extremely tight formation at 80 mph would soon wind up in a massive twisted pile of motorcycles and bodies. These guys were impressive! Not my style at all, but impressive!
As an aside, as my brothers Lib and Scott pulled in, I inspected my rear tire. I (once again! dammit!) saw cords beginning to show through the rubber in the center even while plenty of tread remained. Thus, Marilyn and I were unable to accompany them on what turned out to be a very nice three hundred mile loop through Ennis, Virginia City and Twin Bridges. Dang! This was a Pirelli Diablo - went 2,900 miles! And yes, I pay close attention to inflation. Must have been the 1,000 miles we did over the Beartooth and Bighorns of Wyoming last week.
Also as an aside, Lib is riding a brand spanking new '08 FJR AE (had just under 100 miles on Sunday). He rode my '03 awhile ago and was impressed. Much reading and research and he pulled the trigger last week. He is ecstatic, to say the least. He has registered here as "Rusty," short for a derisive nickname - "Rusty Licks" - given him because of his guitar playing prowess, which is really quite extraordinary - Strat Clapton Special. He opted for the AE because of troublesome arthritis in his hands and wrists, which doesn't seem to impede his tasty guitar chops but, he says, causes him some awful pain and requires lots of meds. He called last night to report that after 300 miles - no pain! I think he has just become a hard-core ST rider.
Big Sky
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