I broke all the rules that day. New bike, unfamiliar road, excessive speed, riding alone...you get the picture. The bike was a beauty, though. Teal blue and chrome with custom pipes and the tell-tale rumble of modified carburetion made her a Biker Mama's dream. Her 1200 cubic centimeter engine was a huge step up from my old, second-hand 750, and accounted for about 250 pounds more heft. I had the world between my legs and felt like I was ready for anything...
Except a 90 degree turn at 45 miles per hour.
I was actually congratulating myself for slowing down in obedience to the "sharp turn" sign when I saw it. I had been doing 60. Who would have thought that somewhere in the coastal ranges of California "sharp" means 90 degrees?
Did I mention it was wet?
Everything happened fast, and slow. I know that only seconds passed, but I had time to think through every decision a ridiculous number of times before I realized that most of them had already been made for me by the bike, the pavement, and that 90 degree turn. So much time to consider so many things that made so little difference! It went something like this:
Whoa! Where did that turn come from? "Sharp" is hardly an adequate term!
Well, you're into it now. Just ride it out.
I can do this. I can ride this out.
Remember those practice turns when you first learned on your old Virago? You could have laid that baby down so many times! You know just how far to go. Your Virago would've taken you through this. This beautiful lady will take you through this.
I can do this. I can ride this out.
Counter steer...Counter steer...A little more. Push that handle bar down! Don't be such a coward!
This isn't the Virago. She's top heavy.
Then counter balance her, Fatty! Push right, throw your weight left. Do it!
I've got to slow down. I'm going too fast!
Don't brake now; you're halfway there. Don't brake, I said!
No really, I have to!
No you don't. Braking will take you down. Lean her over a little more and accelerate. Your tread will grab. It will. I promise. Accelerate out of the turn!
I think I over-inflated the tires.
They'll still grab. Accelerate!
Ok, Ok! Oh, man! That pavement is almost hitting my knee. I've got to pull out of this.
Not yet! Keep leaning.
No, really, I have to. It's right there. I'm going to be painting the road with my knee in about two seconds.
Shut up!
You know what? I'm going to pull my leg up on top, lay this baby down, and ride her side-saddle until she stops. That's what I'm going to do.
Too late, Dummy. You tires are skipping sideways. If you pull your leg over now she'll flip.
I thought you said the tread would grab.
Well you're the one who over-inflated the tires!
Grrr!
Grrr!
Whoa. This feels weird. It's kind of like a rock skipping across the pond. I wonder how long this goes on before my whole right side kisses asphalt?
This is hardly the time to wax poetic.
Okay, forget this. I'm going to straighten this thing up and lay it down on something soft.
Like what?
Well, before I had to focus my whole attention on the present crisis, we were sailing through green spring countryside. Should be something soft off to the side there.
Maybe.
What do you mean, "Maybe"? You know it as well as I do.
Hey, I don't want to lay her down at all. I'm still riding it out.
Can't. The tires are slipping, remember?
Oh, yeah.
So, we're agreed. I can't possibly make it around this turn, and I can't swing a leg over and sled it out without flipping, so I'm going to straighten her up and run off the side of the road into something soft, right?
And just how were you planning to straighten her up?
Hey, I'm a big girl. I'll pull her up by the handlebars.
Brute force?
Yeah. Brute force.
This bike is too heavy for that.
I'm doing it anyway.
* * *
Was that "pop" I heard my collar bone breaking?
Yeah, I think so.
Did it hurt?
Um, yeah.
Can't steer now, can you?
Not at all.
Crash.