Wearyeyed
Junior Member
Well, not exactly.
Let me explain.
I'm coming home around 9:30 at night from work, traffic is light, roads clear and dry, air comfortable.
I kid you not when I say that I ride like I am afraid my bike will magically slip-out from underneath me...I don't *actually* think it will, but my riding style would bore just about anyone but the casual Harley cruiser...I like to go slow, with the rare exception of bursts used to put cars where I want them; to give me the greatest sense of security.
If not more room to just toodle...
You know, filtering cars so you are not a little bump in the middle of a big pack of ravenous drivers trying to protect "their own" piece of road real-estate, whilst trying to "steal" someone else's.
Escaping the pack because you just *know* someone is going to do some self-interest stupid maneuver with so many bunched-up in a small space...
Anyhow, so this white minivan starts pacing me, never quite leaving my blindspot to my right on a two-lane road.
I stop, he stops...back "there."
I accelerate, he accelerates...and stays back "there."
We manage to catch like every light on the 26 mile trip home, including some that were never there before, and I haven't seen them since...
Several times in my slow progress, a bunch of cars would catch-up to us, and I'd do a little burst to gain some space, to that point mostly from those stops where I can teleport from zero to ten-over, leaving them safely behind.
Until White Van catches up...back "there."
I get a little annoyed, and burst to about 80 on this two-lane, 45mph road, leaving him far behind. Back it down TO the limit, and proceed just happily onward.
Then White Van catches-up at the next light.
Another burst, another gap, another back-down-to-the-speed-limit.
Toodling along for a about a mile, I notice the headlights *again* sneaking into the right blind-spot.
Dammit. I lose my cool...102 indicated, lots of room, back down to the speed limit...headlights far in the distance. Happy now.
Doh! He's BACK!
Now we are moving into a construction zone, cutting down to one lane as a series of s-curves begin...he is creeping-up on the right - merge is to the left - no way Imma let this tool race-up and cut me off through construction zone...
(FYI - this is during "off" hours where no construction personnel are actually on-site.)
Burst to 89 indicated, safely negotiate the curves, leaving the headlights behind, only to get caught at the next light.
He catches-up again, and as I look at him in my mirror, it occurs to me this is no longer a mini-van, and that it has a lightbar...
20 second count, lights go on.
He gets out yelling at me to turn off the bike, which I do, and then through my helmet I explain I will roll it off to the right behind the construction barricades, given we are at the end of an S-curve, in a merged lane construction-zone.
He says, "You better not run, Goddammitt!"
Well, to make this already too long story a bit shorter, several miles back White Van and Mr. Ossifer swapped positions, and he had me clocked over 100 in the 45.
At one point he admitted letting me go, but traffic cleared in his favor.
And so, there we were.
I explained the situation, once everything from my ear-plugs to 7 layers of body armor were off, and he went so far as to say, "I can understand why you were doing what you were doing when I came-up on you before the construction zone. But man, there is NO excuse for how fast you were going before."
He asked for my license and secured my legally-owned weapon, was SUPER cool and professional, wrote me for 60 in a 45, and even stuck around for a friendly chat.
Even let me slide on my as-of-yet un-updated plates since trading the Honda for the Yamaha.
Which, BTW, I took care-of the next day...
So, first MC ticket ever, first ticket in 12 years of any kind, BEST ticket I ever got.
And I didn't even get busted for running from the cops...
Let me explain.
I'm coming home around 9:30 at night from work, traffic is light, roads clear and dry, air comfortable.
I kid you not when I say that I ride like I am afraid my bike will magically slip-out from underneath me...I don't *actually* think it will, but my riding style would bore just about anyone but the casual Harley cruiser...I like to go slow, with the rare exception of bursts used to put cars where I want them; to give me the greatest sense of security.
If not more room to just toodle...
You know, filtering cars so you are not a little bump in the middle of a big pack of ravenous drivers trying to protect "their own" piece of road real-estate, whilst trying to "steal" someone else's.
Escaping the pack because you just *know* someone is going to do some self-interest stupid maneuver with so many bunched-up in a small space...
Anyhow, so this white minivan starts pacing me, never quite leaving my blindspot to my right on a two-lane road.
I stop, he stops...back "there."
I accelerate, he accelerates...and stays back "there."
We manage to catch like every light on the 26 mile trip home, including some that were never there before, and I haven't seen them since...
Several times in my slow progress, a bunch of cars would catch-up to us, and I'd do a little burst to gain some space, to that point mostly from those stops where I can teleport from zero to ten-over, leaving them safely behind.
Until White Van catches up...back "there."
I get a little annoyed, and burst to about 80 on this two-lane, 45mph road, leaving him far behind. Back it down TO the limit, and proceed just happily onward.
Then White Van catches-up at the next light.
Another burst, another gap, another back-down-to-the-speed-limit.
Toodling along for a about a mile, I notice the headlights *again* sneaking into the right blind-spot.
Dammit. I lose my cool...102 indicated, lots of room, back down to the speed limit...headlights far in the distance. Happy now.
Doh! He's BACK!
Now we are moving into a construction zone, cutting down to one lane as a series of s-curves begin...he is creeping-up on the right - merge is to the left - no way Imma let this tool race-up and cut me off through construction zone...
(FYI - this is during "off" hours where no construction personnel are actually on-site.)
Burst to 89 indicated, safely negotiate the curves, leaving the headlights behind, only to get caught at the next light.
He catches-up again, and as I look at him in my mirror, it occurs to me this is no longer a mini-van, and that it has a lightbar...
20 second count, lights go on.
He gets out yelling at me to turn off the bike, which I do, and then through my helmet I explain I will roll it off to the right behind the construction barricades, given we are at the end of an S-curve, in a merged lane construction-zone.
He says, "You better not run, Goddammitt!"
Well, to make this already too long story a bit shorter, several miles back White Van and Mr. Ossifer swapped positions, and he had me clocked over 100 in the 45.
At one point he admitted letting me go, but traffic cleared in his favor.
And so, there we were.
I explained the situation, once everything from my ear-plugs to 7 layers of body armor were off, and he went so far as to say, "I can understand why you were doing what you were doing when I came-up on you before the construction zone. But man, there is NO excuse for how fast you were going before."
He asked for my license and secured my legally-owned weapon, was SUPER cool and professional, wrote me for 60 in a 45, and even stuck around for a friendly chat.
Even let me slide on my as-of-yet un-updated plates since trading the Honda for the Yamaha.
Which, BTW, I took care-of the next day...
So, first MC ticket ever, first ticket in 12 years of any kind, BEST ticket I ever got.
And I didn't even get busted for running from the cops...
