- Joined
- Feb 28, 2003
- Messages
- 51,246
- Reaction score
- 8,254
- Location
- Huntsville
- First Name
- Scott
- Last Name
- Friday
Howdy,
So this evening, I am sitting out in the garage cleaning the 98 VFR 800. The buyer is coming up this weekend and I want it to look pretty. After an hour or so, and half a can of Pro Polish, I start to realize that it is a really nice evening outside. I walk out into the middle of the street and stare up through the trees, stars cover the sky and the moon is coming up over the tree tops. It is crystal clear and about 60 F. Perfect for a midnight ride!!
Once I make the decision that I really am going, I start getting all my gear together. The rear tire on the GS is no longer up to the task, the headlights never really were to begin with. So I think I will ride the 01 VFR 800. Sitting here and rubbing all over the 98 has got me all emotional and sentimental. After waking Beth to let her know where I am going, I head back to the garage and wheel out the bike. I thumb the starter and notice that coincidentally, the clock reads 12:00am.
I am sure my neighbors are wondering what in the world that crazy guy with the bikes is doing at this time of the night?! I keep the revs low and putter out of the neighborhood and head for Hwy 30 to leave town. The air is crisp and cool. It's cold enough to be refreshing, but not enough to get through the gloves and make the hands stiff. There are very few people out and about at this time in Huntsville, small town and all that
It seems odd that I could do nearly 100K miles between the two VFRs, spend a week or so on the new GS, and then when I return to the VFR, it feels somehow foreign to me. It is not at all the intimately familiar feeling that I've known for so long. The controls all feel akward, the bike out of proportion, and somehow clumsy!? Have I lost my mind? The first few miles out of town I have to completely retrain my muscles and brain to work the controls. The clutch barely has to be pulled at all for up or downshifts. The brakes seem really grabby and take very little pull on the lever to haul the bike down from speed. The bars seem so narrow. The entire bike just seems so small and toy like.
I turn off Hwy 30 and start my run South on FM 1791 through the woods. There is no traffic at all. The moon sends shafts of silver light through the branches of the trees casting ghostly shadows on the road ahead of me. The blazing headlights of the VFR scatters them back to the darkness. The road appears as a tunnel leading off into the woods, the trees forming a wall to keep me focused on the road. Moments later, it all comes back to me. The VFR feels like home again after a long vacation. Shifts become effortless and silky smooth. The engine screams into the night as I twist open the throttle. Looking down from on high, the moon must wonder what madness has overtaken me?
I cannot help wondering if I lost my mind when I decided to sell the VFRs and buy a GS? This is just so much fun!! The V4 engine is so smooth and the power just comes on with such an urgent WOOOSH! The GS just doesn't have that same top end rush. Then there is that beautiful exhaust note, howling like a shrieking monster at the near full moon. It still gives me chills to hear the bike wind out to redline
Soon I am thinking of nothing else but the road ahead of me and those little reflections in the weeds Sure enough, Moma deer has already slipped up into the woods, but Bambi is sitting in tall grass wondering what this thing is that is bearing down on it, blindingly bright and shreiking like no predator it's ever heard! It simply freezes and I am gone in the next instant, slipping down through the river bottoms and a little ground fog. The trees avoid this area, leaving it wide open grassland and marsh. A faint haze hangs over the ground, glinting silver in the light of the rising moon. Scant moments pass by with a swirl of the mist and I leave it behind, returning to the woods.
With every curve, every crest of a hill, every dip in the road, I feel the bike become more and more of an extension of myself. I'm not thinking, push this, pull that. I am just moving down the road. I think turn and I just turn, faster and I go faster, slower and I go slower. The bike seems to know my slightest thoughts. Is it trying to reseduce me? Does it understand the fate I have in store for it?
When I reach FM 149, I stop for a brief moment and just sit. I am all alone. I am in the middle of the Sam Houston National Forest. There is not a single cloud in the sky. I should be camping!! Why can't weather like this stick around for the weekend? It is supposed to rain all weekend :angryfir: But hey, how many folks get to just take off for a ride at the stroke of midnight like myself and enjoy such an incredible night?
I head South on 149, deeper into the forest. Here the trees come right up to the road. The pavement is exceptional as a result of repaving last year. There is a faint haze of smoke coming from smoldering stumps and logs within the forest. The Forestry Service has once again begun their "controlled" burns. I catch a glimpse of the occasional flame out of the corner of my eyes as I stare up the road into the next corner. The road here has a lot of nice elevation changes in combination with the corners, which makes the result of good throttle control all the more satisfying. Slow in, look through the turn, fast out! WHOOOSH!! Man I love this bike!
I roll into Montgomery around 12:30am, the town is dead. I stop for gas at the Diamond Shamrock. While I am refueling, the local PD cruises by and slows way down to check me out. Then he starts pulling into parking lots, stopping, circling back, stopping. It almost seems like he is waiting for me to get back on the road. About the time I finish, he turns and heads up 149 the way I will be going. Topped off, I head back up 149 to see if he is waiting in surprise for me. I cruise out of town about five under the limit, not so much because I am worried about the LEO, but more because of the noise for the local residents at this time of night. Sure enough, he has turned around and I encounter him as I come over a hill. I just put on by and he drives back into town.
The run back up North through the woods is just as much fun as the trip down. I see a few more critters here and there but they always seem to get across the road before I get to them, "A good thing", as Martha would say After turning North on FM 1791 off of FM 149, there is a long straight section of road. On one side is woods and the other is open pastures. I pull over and kill the bike. For a few minutes, I just sit and soak it all in. The pasture is lit so brightly that seeing is effortless. The stars twinkle brilliantly. The moon has risen high from the East and the shadows it has been casting have shortened. Even with my ear plugs in and my helmet on, the sound of the frogs singing their songs reverberates from out of the woods. It is an almost hypnotic melody. I should be camping!!
I spot a headlight in the mirror. Not wanting to be stuck behind a car for the next part of the ride, I fire up the bike and WHOOOSH off into the night. The rest of the ride is a blur. Once again I quit thinking and just ride as if from reflex and instinct. I reach Hwy 30 and head back into town. The few neighbors that had been awake when I left have now turned out the lights. I tiptoe back into the garage and park my beloved machine. The smell of cooking bugs fills the garage. There sits the new GS, itself covered in splattered bugs. Even after such an incredible ride, I still find myself inexoribly drawn to the GS. It is not a better bike than the VFR, it does not shift so silky smooth, the engine is not so silky smooth, nothing about the GS is silkly smooth!! And yet...
I turn off the light as I head inside. I sneak into the bedroom and kiss Beth to let her know I am back home safe. Almost without realizing it, I am rationalizing ways to keep both bikes... My name is Scott. I have an addiction...
Adios,
So this evening, I am sitting out in the garage cleaning the 98 VFR 800. The buyer is coming up this weekend and I want it to look pretty. After an hour or so, and half a can of Pro Polish, I start to realize that it is a really nice evening outside. I walk out into the middle of the street and stare up through the trees, stars cover the sky and the moon is coming up over the tree tops. It is crystal clear and about 60 F. Perfect for a midnight ride!!
Once I make the decision that I really am going, I start getting all my gear together. The rear tire on the GS is no longer up to the task, the headlights never really were to begin with. So I think I will ride the 01 VFR 800. Sitting here and rubbing all over the 98 has got me all emotional and sentimental. After waking Beth to let her know where I am going, I head back to the garage and wheel out the bike. I thumb the starter and notice that coincidentally, the clock reads 12:00am.
I am sure my neighbors are wondering what in the world that crazy guy with the bikes is doing at this time of the night?! I keep the revs low and putter out of the neighborhood and head for Hwy 30 to leave town. The air is crisp and cool. It's cold enough to be refreshing, but not enough to get through the gloves and make the hands stiff. There are very few people out and about at this time in Huntsville, small town and all that
It seems odd that I could do nearly 100K miles between the two VFRs, spend a week or so on the new GS, and then when I return to the VFR, it feels somehow foreign to me. It is not at all the intimately familiar feeling that I've known for so long. The controls all feel akward, the bike out of proportion, and somehow clumsy!? Have I lost my mind? The first few miles out of town I have to completely retrain my muscles and brain to work the controls. The clutch barely has to be pulled at all for up or downshifts. The brakes seem really grabby and take very little pull on the lever to haul the bike down from speed. The bars seem so narrow. The entire bike just seems so small and toy like.
I turn off Hwy 30 and start my run South on FM 1791 through the woods. There is no traffic at all. The moon sends shafts of silver light through the branches of the trees casting ghostly shadows on the road ahead of me. The blazing headlights of the VFR scatters them back to the darkness. The road appears as a tunnel leading off into the woods, the trees forming a wall to keep me focused on the road. Moments later, it all comes back to me. The VFR feels like home again after a long vacation. Shifts become effortless and silky smooth. The engine screams into the night as I twist open the throttle. Looking down from on high, the moon must wonder what madness has overtaken me?
I cannot help wondering if I lost my mind when I decided to sell the VFRs and buy a GS? This is just so much fun!! The V4 engine is so smooth and the power just comes on with such an urgent WOOOSH! The GS just doesn't have that same top end rush. Then there is that beautiful exhaust note, howling like a shrieking monster at the near full moon. It still gives me chills to hear the bike wind out to redline
Soon I am thinking of nothing else but the road ahead of me and those little reflections in the weeds Sure enough, Moma deer has already slipped up into the woods, but Bambi is sitting in tall grass wondering what this thing is that is bearing down on it, blindingly bright and shreiking like no predator it's ever heard! It simply freezes and I am gone in the next instant, slipping down through the river bottoms and a little ground fog. The trees avoid this area, leaving it wide open grassland and marsh. A faint haze hangs over the ground, glinting silver in the light of the rising moon. Scant moments pass by with a swirl of the mist and I leave it behind, returning to the woods.
With every curve, every crest of a hill, every dip in the road, I feel the bike become more and more of an extension of myself. I'm not thinking, push this, pull that. I am just moving down the road. I think turn and I just turn, faster and I go faster, slower and I go slower. The bike seems to know my slightest thoughts. Is it trying to reseduce me? Does it understand the fate I have in store for it?
When I reach FM 149, I stop for a brief moment and just sit. I am all alone. I am in the middle of the Sam Houston National Forest. There is not a single cloud in the sky. I should be camping!! Why can't weather like this stick around for the weekend? It is supposed to rain all weekend :angryfir: But hey, how many folks get to just take off for a ride at the stroke of midnight like myself and enjoy such an incredible night?
I head South on 149, deeper into the forest. Here the trees come right up to the road. The pavement is exceptional as a result of repaving last year. There is a faint haze of smoke coming from smoldering stumps and logs within the forest. The Forestry Service has once again begun their "controlled" burns. I catch a glimpse of the occasional flame out of the corner of my eyes as I stare up the road into the next corner. The road here has a lot of nice elevation changes in combination with the corners, which makes the result of good throttle control all the more satisfying. Slow in, look through the turn, fast out! WHOOOSH!! Man I love this bike!
I roll into Montgomery around 12:30am, the town is dead. I stop for gas at the Diamond Shamrock. While I am refueling, the local PD cruises by and slows way down to check me out. Then he starts pulling into parking lots, stopping, circling back, stopping. It almost seems like he is waiting for me to get back on the road. About the time I finish, he turns and heads up 149 the way I will be going. Topped off, I head back up 149 to see if he is waiting in surprise for me. I cruise out of town about five under the limit, not so much because I am worried about the LEO, but more because of the noise for the local residents at this time of night. Sure enough, he has turned around and I encounter him as I come over a hill. I just put on by and he drives back into town.
The run back up North through the woods is just as much fun as the trip down. I see a few more critters here and there but they always seem to get across the road before I get to them, "A good thing", as Martha would say After turning North on FM 1791 off of FM 149, there is a long straight section of road. On one side is woods and the other is open pastures. I pull over and kill the bike. For a few minutes, I just sit and soak it all in. The pasture is lit so brightly that seeing is effortless. The stars twinkle brilliantly. The moon has risen high from the East and the shadows it has been casting have shortened. Even with my ear plugs in and my helmet on, the sound of the frogs singing their songs reverberates from out of the woods. It is an almost hypnotic melody. I should be camping!!
I spot a headlight in the mirror. Not wanting to be stuck behind a car for the next part of the ride, I fire up the bike and WHOOOSH off into the night. The rest of the ride is a blur. Once again I quit thinking and just ride as if from reflex and instinct. I reach Hwy 30 and head back into town. The few neighbors that had been awake when I left have now turned out the lights. I tiptoe back into the garage and park my beloved machine. The smell of cooking bugs fills the garage. There sits the new GS, itself covered in splattered bugs. Even after such an incredible ride, I still find myself inexoribly drawn to the GS. It is not a better bike than the VFR, it does not shift so silky smooth, the engine is not so silky smooth, nothing about the GS is silkly smooth!! And yet...
I turn off the light as I head inside. I sneak into the bedroom and kiss Beth to let her know I am back home safe. Almost without realizing it, I am rationalizing ways to keep both bikes... My name is Scott. I have an addiction...
Adios,