Seriously. I'm not sure if I have or not.
I left Wednesday to do the scouting trip for our Curve Cowboy Reunion
. The ride was a blast and I enjoyed myself to the max. Did the 772 miles in 12 hours with and hour of that being stopped.
The next day I rode the local roads and had a blast, once again. The Ozark area of Tan Tar A is a different kind of riding. No spectacular stuff or scenery. But, it turns out to be spectacular. Instead of being "wowed" right away, you're kind of sucked into it. Verdant greens, rolling hills, old farmsteads with small lakes, real purdy country. But the roads.... they turn out to be roller coasters. No Dragon here, but still some good fun stuff to rip. You get air several times and then lay into some good sweeping switchbacks followed by more air. It didn't really dawn on me till I got back to the hotel how much fun I'd had. Jaded by Colorado I reckon.
But, that's not the problem, nor the point of this thread.
About six hours into my ride home yesterday, having a blast, once again and enjoying the goat snot out of the ride, I got pulled over. Just inside Sherman, TX, which is a leetle south of the TX/OK border, I was threading traffic. Been riding about 15 over all day. I came to a real jam of 18 wheels, saw a hole and took it with an abandoned frenzy. Coming around the last 18 wheeler, and in front of the line, was the pickemup of the Grayson County Sheriff, T. Thompson, and his faithful deputy, whom I had just passed at least 40mph over the speed limit. They immediately commence to pull my ass over. I slow down to the legal speed limit, points to the exit sign I was going to take and end up landing at a convenience store.
After all the proper documents are presented, Sheriff Thompson asks me if I was declaring a medical or otherwise emergency.
Looking as innocent as I could, I replied, "Why, no officer. No emergency here, I was just plain and simple hauling ass without an excuse."
He looked like I had just slapped him. They ended up LETTING ME GO with a verbal warning.
Another 4 hours later I get to Austin. I hate riding thru Austin. It is the constipated asshole, bottle neck of I-35. We plan trips to make sure we don't hit Austin rush hour. Every mouth breathing, text messaging, brain dead, lobotomized, drug addled asshat (get the picture?) is coming thru Austin at any given time of the day. It is a traffic jam nightmare and I detest and dread going thru it every steenkeen time. There are alternative routes, but it adds a few hours to your travel time.
So, I get to the north end of Austin take a look at the pigs in the left hand lane taxing the shocks of their mini-van while having a picnic in the left hand lane while breathing thru their fooking, food filled mouths and I snap.
While usually I try to be an ambassador of motocycling good will there was no more. I ended up splitting lanes, sliding across three lanes to make a pass and then back across three lanes, shifting thru the gears and bouncing off the rev limiter. I showed no mercy, was a total non caring prick and rode within inches of vehicles while threading thru them as fast I could go. One tap of the brakes, or jig of a steering wheel would have ended it.
On the other hand, there was a clarity, almost a psychic connection, as if I could tell what a car was gonna do. Some folks even got out of my way.
I ended up riding down another 25 miles of I-35 like that before I exited onto a country road to finish the ride to my house and came up onto a whole pack of Harleys rumbling down the road at 10 under.
On this nice and tweest country road there is exactly on long passing spot and as fate would have it, it was clear as I came up behind them. 120mph indicated on our bikes is 117. A few tried to break away and catch up. As if.
Last night, sitting in my gearage and smoking ceegar, I pondered on the insanity of that ride. I've seen kid's ride like that thru traffic and think they're nuts. I think I was nuts.
Has the intoxicating power and lightness led me down a path that could have no good end? I'm having thoughts like these, thoughts that are a lot like, and with a similar and disastrous ending, of Hilary becoming president.
But, dayem, what fun, but, dayem, have I lost it?