The worst: slow in the curves, like 10 or 15 under the limit, then speed up to 10-over on the straights. You can't pass without begging for your license to be suspended.
Great descriptor for a majority of Pirates on the road. Worse than the 10 over on the straights, sometimes they turn it into an all out drag race, that given a safe place to pass, they always lose!
Since we're Pirate busting... I'll relate a little story about an experience I had and will never forget, it was so amusing.
I was going to see my son compete in a college track meet in Troy, NY, which is on the east side of the Hudson River from Albany. I left early and took a ride out on Rte 2, aka The Mohawk Trail thru Mass, as that can be quite a fun ride early in the day without any traffic. After the meet I ran back east across Rte 9 through VT as there are more slow cage passing opportunities (passing on double yellow is OK in VT) and that turns into Rte 101 in Keene, NH. There are a couple of good sized hills between Keene and Manchester, and they split the one lane to two to get around the slow trucks and such lumbering up those hills.
When I rolled thru Keene I came up behind a goodly sized cluster of
Weekend Pirates, doing that
Pirate ride thing that they do (i.e. riding closely together, side by side, in the same lane) at their
Pirately pace (i.e. the speed of an ancient Man o' War frigate). At the first truck lane passing zone I wicked up the FJR and zipped by the entire gaggle, and then resumed my ride home at nominal, solo FJR cruising altitude, not giving them a second thought.
When I reached the top of the
second rise, where you go past the Pack Monadnock State Park entrance, I slowed down considerably because it is a blind rise and there is often traffic exiting from the state park. Just then, I suddenly hear a crazy loud piped bike blow by me
on my right side and then chop the throttle at the top. It was one of the Pirate ass-clowns who had been chasing me on his Dyna-Bob-Low-Rider-Heritage-Glide-Classic-Bagger and had been trying to overtake me for miles, and I hadn't even had the decency to notice. I think he thought I was trying to outrun him, but I was really just riding along and enjoying the day, completely oblivious to his life saving loud presence.
I laughed out loud, but gave the Goofus a big thumbs up for his efforts. Then he dropped back to wait for the rest of his bad ass posse cluster, probably to regale them with his manly accomplishment, and I continued along at my nominal FJR pace to home.