The forecast for today was for rain, I had been savoring my rides the last couple of days as the weather was good and my sportified T3 was running well, as I had finally sorted out the carburation and electrical issues that had left me limping home more than once on recent test rides. So when I awoke to blue skies I wasted little time in heading out for my usual one hour ride on the local twisties. It’s a nice ride on good pavement with views of 14,000 foot peaks next to desert panoramas; I live on the edge of the great basin and the east side of the Sierra Nevadas and the sky was full of gathering strato cumulus and lenticular clouds that gave a sharp focus to the landscape.
Usually when I go for a ride I’m looking forward to going fast, not stupid fast like I did when I was in my 20s and 30s, just fast enough to enjoy the fun of carrying just the right amount of braking into a turn, balancing counter steering with down shifting and carrying some exit speed and momentum into the next turn. But today it just didn’t feel right, I didn’t really feel like going fast, even 50 something year old fast. Besides, the pre frontal wind was blowing me around a bit and there was an
annoying debris of leaf litter from some road side mowing on some of my favorite turns. So I found my self going rather more slowly than usual, and enjoying it.
I found my self motoring along in 2nd and 3rd gear on largely unused roads, way below the speed limit and enjoying the bike’s torque and ability to accelerate, without actually having to goose the throttle more than a little to appreciate it, and just poking around the back roads at a snails pace and finding places that I hadn’t discovered before. And of course I enjoyed the ability to view the scenery; it really was a very fine day.
It’s raining now and the pellet stove is purring, I have a scotch at hand and I’m posting to a website full of people who, I hope, won’t think I’m completely nuts. Cheers, either way,,,,,,
