My little ADVENTURE by Justin
My little ADVENTURE by Justin
About two or three months ago Jason and I started talking about motorcycles. Well, he started talking about them. Jason started doing a bunch of searching and showed me a few. I never really even thought about it. I’ve had a few bikes and have been riding since a child. Heck, I thought it was all out of my system. Then, a few months ago, I watched a movie called A Long Way Around, a documentary about two dudes who take a long long trip on bikes, a crazy trip, through like Siberia and stuff. I mean, some of the best roads they traveled down looked like and arena moto-cross coarse. One of the dudes was Ewin McGregor by the by. Anyway, something set a fire under my bump and I started searching for a bike. I searched for days and finally found what I wanted. What, wait a minute, it’s in Nash Vegas, just pictures, brief discription, and service manual copies. I contacted the sales person about 300 times and my uncle, a beamer owner, about 400 times. All was set, this looked like a fantastic bike, just what I wanted. Angelica, my girlfriend, booked an early plane ticket out of KC and I left at 4 in the morn. Things went well and I had the deal done by 12. I left the dealership loaded with my belongings by 12:30 and headed out onto I-24 into Nashville traffic with just a respectable clue of how to ride this bike. Trucks changing lanes without a signal and corvettes on speed cutting me off, man it was great. Traffic relaxed and I became comfortable with the bike and the road. Then, about 200 hundred miles into the ride, the skies darkened and the temp dropped twenty degrees. The fuel gauge dipped quickly below the empty line and the fuel light flashed red. Great, my first tank of gas in a new bike and I’m going to have to leave it stranded on I-24. I think to myself, how long do you think it will take for someone to load that thing up, it’s pretty heavy? No need to worry, I can’t do anything about it; just keep going till the bike shuts down. I travel on hoping/praying for a gas station. Then just below a hill I see salvation, a sign with gas, at exit 44. I pull in just as the bike runs out of petro. I fill up, add all my winter linings to my riding jacket and press on. The temp has dropped, clouds have thickened and the rest of the ride looks cold and wet. I make some great time, even after being hit by wind, rain and miles of road construction. I roll into St. Louis just after rush hour. I was about to take a short cut that would divert me around town but then I thought, wait I won’t go by the arch. It was so awesome crossing the Old Man and seeing the arch on the bike. Wet and even colder I pushed on, only to finally stop in Booneville Mo, yep that’s right Booneville, for some coffee and grub. Not much there, but a gas station and an inviting Super 8 sign. I thought, with a little rest I could journey on but I had hit that wall of exhaustion that tells you it is time to get off. I got a room and kicked back in a recliner with my riding coat still on and fell asleep. Later I woke up sweating, covered below all of the hotel blankets including the bed cover. I wondered why it was so itchy. I woke up early, warmed up the bike and traveled on. The sun broke through the clouds with a much-needed warmth. But not for long. Soon, a front moved in, and the wind fired up to about 30 or 40 miles per hour. It was a tough four hours of riding, with the wind and overcast skies. I arrived at home, took a long hot shower and just relaxed. Tired, sore and exhausted I looked back and reflected my trip, some advice from a friend who said I should just trailer it home, and all the near misses I had along the way. I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Besides, what kind of story would that have made. Ya, I bought that bike. The dealer is bringing it up on a trailer tomorrow. Boring!
About two or three months ago Jason and I started talking about motorcycles. Well, he started talking about them. Jason started doing a bunch of searching and showed me a few. I never really even thought about it. I’ve had a few bikes and have been riding since a child. Heck, I thought it was all out of my system. Then, a few months ago, I watched a movie called A Long Way Around, a documentary about two dudes who take a long long trip on bikes, a crazy trip, through like Siberia and stuff. I mean, some of the best roads they traveled down looked like and arena moto-cross coarse. One of the dudes was Ewin McGregor by the by. Anyway, something set a fire under my bump and I started searching for a bike. I searched for days and finally found what I wanted. What, wait a minute, it’s in Nash Vegas, just pictures, brief discription, and service manual copies. I contacted the sales person about 300 times and my uncle, a beamer owner, about 400 times. All was set, this looked like a fantastic bike, just what I wanted. Angelica, my girlfriend, booked an early plane ticket out of KC and I left at 4 in the morn. Things went well and I had the deal done by 12. I left the dealership loaded with my belongings by 12:30 and headed out onto I-24 into Nashville traffic with just a respectable clue of how to ride this bike. Trucks changing lanes without a signal and corvettes on speed cutting me off, man it was great. Traffic relaxed and I became comfortable with the bike and the road. Then, about 200 hundred miles into the ride, the skies darkened and the temp dropped twenty degrees. The fuel gauge dipped quickly below the empty line and the fuel light flashed red. Great, my first tank of gas in a new bike and I’m going to have to leave it stranded on I-24. I think to myself, how long do you think it will take for someone to load that thing up, it’s pretty heavy? No need to worry, I can’t do anything about it; just keep going till the bike shuts down. I travel on hoping/praying for a gas station. Then just below a hill I see salvation, a sign with gas, at exit 44. I pull in just as the bike runs out of petro. I fill up, add all my winter linings to my riding jacket and press on. The temp has dropped, clouds have thickened and the rest of the ride looks cold and wet. I make some great time, even after being hit by wind, rain and miles of road construction. I roll into St. Louis just after rush hour. I was about to take a short cut that would divert me around town but then I thought, wait I won’t go by the arch. It was so awesome crossing the Old Man and seeing the arch on the bike. Wet and even colder I pushed on, only to finally stop in Booneville Mo, yep that’s right Booneville, for some coffee and grub. Not much there, but a gas station and an inviting Super 8 sign. I thought, with a little rest I could journey on but I had hit that wall of exhaustion that tells you it is time to get off. I got a room and kicked back in a recliner with my riding coat still on and fell asleep. Later I woke up sweating, covered below all of the hotel blankets including the bed cover. I wondered why it was so itchy. I woke up early, warmed up the bike and traveled on. The sun broke through the clouds with a much-needed warmth. But not for long. Soon, a front moved in, and the wind fired up to about 30 or 40 miles per hour. It was a tough four hours of riding, with the wind and overcast skies. I arrived at home, took a long hot shower and just relaxed. Tired, sore and exhausted I looked back and reflected my trip, some advice from a friend who said I should just trailer it home, and all the near misses I had along the way. I wouldn’t have done it any other way. Besides, what kind of story would that have made. Ya, I bought that bike. The dealer is bringing it up on a trailer tomorrow. Boring!
posted by The Nadas at 10:06 PM
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