supertankerm60a3
Well-known member
I think this forum best suits this story.
The brand of motorcycle was never confirmed. I hope you find humor in it.
OK, so I am going to work the other day. It is a ride, just a short one, only 56.3 miles. It is very early, pitch black early.
I am going up a grade I have to go over every day, it is 7% for about 1.5 miles. I am rolling along at my Preferred Cruising Speed, which is 4 MPH slower than the highest speed that I was released with only a warning. I start to hear a weird noise, like a combination of tire cupping, hockey pucks and potholes, it starts to get louder. I look up and ahead of me, way ahead is a single tail light. Then I start to notice the smell, that old, now rare, smell of an engine running way richer than stoich, without a catalytic converter. YUCK!
I slow down a little and change lanes. Still gets louder and smellier, I slow down a little more.
This lasts about half a mile, this is INTOLERABLE. I speed up to 4 MPH faster than my PCS and go around, he should fall behind fairly quickly.
Nope, NOW it seems he wants to go fast, I REALLY don't want this machine in front of me. I speed up a bit more. He has sped up also, OH COME ON, GO AWAY YOU SLUG!! I speed up a bit more, same. He is a ways behind, just far enough that I cannot hear him but he seems to be closing and I am going faster than I would prefer.
I back off the throttle a bit, slowing to 80 (I said is was gong faster than I would prefer)...
And drop silver two gears...
Remember, my gears are named, CruiserPassingAngeryShowoffStarting.
I hear it at about 20 yards out, the machine sounds like it is being beaten, is out of breath and maybe coughing up blood, but still out running its tormentor. It seems to be closing at between 15 and 20 MPH.
As his front axle passes my rear I whack it WOT!
the results were comical.
Silver rears, kicks and accelerates, the loud smelly caricature to my left seems to bounce rearward as if someone had tied a stout bungee cord to his back fender, bouncing into, and out of my field of view in an insanely quick manner.
WHACK! ONE THOUSAND ONE ONE THOU (revlimiter interrupts!) SHIFT! ONE THOUSAND ATHOUSAND TWO ATHOUSAND THREE ATHOUSAND FOUR SHIFT! ATHOUSAND ONE ATHOU check speedo...
Holy cow!!! whoa Whoa WHOA! COAST Coast coast... Silver! Stop trying to get me thrown is jail! Resume PCS
Check for the loud smelly (and now) embarrassed annoyance, It should be all the way to the upcoming town before he catches me.
No sign of him.
I continue on to work feeling slightly guilty for acting the hooligan.
The brand of motorcycle was never confirmed. I hope you find humor in it.
OK, so I am going to work the other day. It is a ride, just a short one, only 56.3 miles. It is very early, pitch black early.
I am going up a grade I have to go over every day, it is 7% for about 1.5 miles. I am rolling along at my Preferred Cruising Speed, which is 4 MPH slower than the highest speed that I was released with only a warning. I start to hear a weird noise, like a combination of tire cupping, hockey pucks and potholes, it starts to get louder. I look up and ahead of me, way ahead is a single tail light. Then I start to notice the smell, that old, now rare, smell of an engine running way richer than stoich, without a catalytic converter. YUCK!
I slow down a little and change lanes. Still gets louder and smellier, I slow down a little more.
This lasts about half a mile, this is INTOLERABLE. I speed up to 4 MPH faster than my PCS and go around, he should fall behind fairly quickly.
Nope, NOW it seems he wants to go fast, I REALLY don't want this machine in front of me. I speed up a bit more. He has sped up also, OH COME ON, GO AWAY YOU SLUG!! I speed up a bit more, same. He is a ways behind, just far enough that I cannot hear him but he seems to be closing and I am going faster than I would prefer.
I back off the throttle a bit, slowing to 80 (I said is was gong faster than I would prefer)...
And drop silver two gears...
Remember, my gears are named, CruiserPassingAngeryShowoffStarting.
I hear it at about 20 yards out, the machine sounds like it is being beaten, is out of breath and maybe coughing up blood, but still out running its tormentor. It seems to be closing at between 15 and 20 MPH.
As his front axle passes my rear I whack it WOT!
the results were comical.
Silver rears, kicks and accelerates, the loud smelly caricature to my left seems to bounce rearward as if someone had tied a stout bungee cord to his back fender, bouncing into, and out of my field of view in an insanely quick manner.
WHACK! ONE THOUSAND ONE ONE THOU (revlimiter interrupts!) SHIFT! ONE THOUSAND ATHOUSAND TWO ATHOUSAND THREE ATHOUSAND FOUR SHIFT! ATHOUSAND ONE ATHOU check speedo...
Holy cow!!! whoa Whoa WHOA! COAST Coast coast... Silver! Stop trying to get me thrown is jail! Resume PCS
Check for the loud smelly (and now) embarrassed annoyance, It should be all the way to the upcoming town before he catches me.
No sign of him.
I continue on to work feeling slightly guilty for acting the hooligan.
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