Props for the foolish!

I just logged on and saw FK's post. Props for wrestling the Guzzi in this sloppy winterland mess! I have a decidedly easier task in hoisting the 150 pound (with lunch, coffee pot and a full tank of gas under the seat) scoot around! I managed a slide this morning too - but it was not a groin pullin affair. I just needed to stop a bit quicker so I hopped off, grabbed the bars and luggage rack and slid for a bit using the wee scoot as a make-shift snow plow. I used the passenger dingleberries to get a little traction and stopped a good 5 feet short of the intersection. Man in Subaru waves, smiling as he trundles slowly through the intersection. Also had to pass a few sliding cars going uphill on the way in... there's much better traction to be had on the sidewalk!

Ahhh what fun.

Slippery when Wet or How I learned to Love the Snow

Well, I'm getting ready to head to Vail this afternoon. I rode into work for a half day fully expecting no snow until 3ish. Wrong. It started coming down in big fluffy clumps downtown around 10:30am. So I decided to take the Guzzi out on its first snow run. Been through this with the CB a few times and it was a lot like riding a really heavy mountain bike. But the guzzi, well its just a wee bit bigger.

I got her going and on my first turn I started thinking of Pebbles motorcross demo at the bike show where he put his foot way out in front of the front wheel to pivot through a turn. I wasn't exactly hanging off the bike, in fact I was just barely creeping through a turn and had my leg out as an outrigger, but sure as sh*t, the thing started to slip and slop away from me. Fortunately this was a low speed incident and I managed to keep it from really sliding. The bike did go down, but ever so gently like a loving mother laying her infant to bed.

Mind you I had done a 180 on a one way street. But I got lots of respect from the peds and autos for even trying to ride in the slush.

Anyway, after that it was no worries. Going straight was easy. Stopping, now that was the hard part. I managed to make it home and am just getting ready to call a cab to the airport.

Hope you guys have a good week. FK

Cycle World Motorcycle Show
Washington DC Convention center
Jan. 2005

So it had been decided that the intrepid Exit3DC crew and friends would attend the 2005 International Cycle World Motorcycle show at the new DC convention center. Noon, Gordon Bierche, brunch and then a few hours of jumping around on all the latest machines and ogling all the gear that we cannot afford.

At about quarter-past noon I buzzed my way over to GB on the trusty ZUMA, passing my little 'sis along the way (who did not look at all distressed as I buzz around menacingly in her passenger side window - "I know its you stoopid" she sayz). We get in and find Andy and Dallas (www.catspit.net) waiting punctually at a table. There is no sign of the rest of the crew... nor would there be for some time. Father Kevin arrived soon afterwards and we had some brunch and coffee. Having woken up hungry - I had eaten a colossal breakfast. I asked for a muffin with marmalade... this was too much to ask - it took about an hour for that blessed muffin to arrive!

So the roster went like this: CJ - broken down in B.F. Maryland somewhere with a used Subaru (test drive gone wrong), R2B2 hungover, C.Fault hungover, Paul & Alycia hungover. Snorre - made it mid-brunch. You'd think that this crew partied really hard (you'd be right)!


wurd to ya' Snorre...

So after farting around at GB for a while and listening to FK's lesbian biker chick story - we made our way over to the convention center... Cassie met up along the way. Once inside we began the natural "ooh, lemee sit on this one" routine and made our way over to the Yamaha camp to drool all over Rossi's MotoGP bike... mmmmm.... delicious carbon fiber.... shiny machined fiddly bits.... must... touch ... aaaaaaahhhh. oh. yes. Where was I? (Andy - where's those pics)?

To my dismay - Yamaha had not brought the MT-O1 V-Max-esque badass machine for us to look at, and some weasly little corporate guy informed be that there was "no way we are going to see that - its just not going to work here". Um, yah... okay. Thats whatcha' said about the FJ when it debuted in Europe and Asia - and you sell every stinkin' one of those things (on pre-order in most places)! So I will have to wait until next year then...

Somewhere in here B and J roll up in the joint. B2 looks pretty haggard - but he lights up as we make our way to the Gerbing heated clothing booth. He picks up some sweet heated glove liners and we are all quite happy.

I was on a mission to try on an Arai Corsair, as I had my eye on an Ebay listing for a NewInBox XS - '04 manufacture - lid for probably under 300 beans. Sweeet! I just couldn't remember if the S or XS was the ticket when we saw 'em at VIR.

As we stroll up to the Arai booth, we are greeted by a guy who looks at me and says "look that way please" pointing to my side... "about a 57", "let me see" - pulling out his tape. - 56 1/2 - pretty damn close. However, he points me to the S - too big - I like my pea snug - so XS it is! whoopee! I must win that bid (and as I post this - I have! $265 - yaaaah).

Father Kevin gets all sesquipedalian on our asses when he breaks out with: "wow, this guy is a true phrenologist*". Try workin' that one into a sentence everyday...
I also find out that I can use all my Rx7RR visors that I never use (because it doesn't fit right) - so now I can look like space man spiff any day o' the week. J and I pick up swag at the Arai booth - new base plates, ear pods, breff deflecta' and some swank headwear.

Just across the way we run into the Triumphs - what temptation that new speed triple is! MMMMM-MMM good! Apparently they've crammed a couple more horses in there too! Looks absolutely deadly. The Daytona 955i (my old ride - circa 2k) is really disappointing though - looks all cheaped out, with nasty white hwa-fong style clocks and an unfinished and plasticy looking cockpit... like an early 90's late 80's japanese machine - but not as clean. phoo. The Bonnie looks nice though - I wonder how fast you could make that thing ;)


The latest space-age Asian taxi...
(you roundeyes - too laarge fo' seat)!

We all take turns hanging off the "cranked over" Buell and pile up like giggling idiots on various scooters (look! its a third world station wagon)! B2 buys some anti fog poo (I just use hak-a-loogie brand - works like a charm).


Father Kevin and Cassie Fault versus...

Team FELDMAN - no contest - the monkeys have it.
(whaddar u'z guyz - out fer a Sunday spin)?!

Andy and Dallas sneak off back to the burbs before we sit down and start swillin' beer. CF exclaims " I feel great again - that did the trick"! MMmmm hmmm... Houston, we have a drinking problem (see pic below - "HANGOVER TONGUE" - nice)!


say aaaaahhhEHCH-AACH ACH HAAACCKKK !!

Towards the end Paul and Alycia swing by and hang out as we fondle tires and poke at engine cutaways...

Countless hours have drifted by and Father Kevin looks at my 'sis with droopy black-bag eyes and says "we're never getting out of here... are we". Its not a question - its a fact... as I jump on a gunmetal RC51 "ooh ooh - whaddaya think of this one"... "mmm. looks nice in black and gunmetal dontcha think?"...


bbrrrrrrprppppp... caio'!
The cool new Stella scooter - I liiiike!

My sis has decided on the Suzuki 200 DP for herself, so we will have to keep our eyes open for that... an excellent 1st bike choice in my book!

As we finally make our way out... it dawns on me that I am no closer to deciding what kind of new road bike I'm aiming for next season! It sure is fun being indecisive though.

Can't I just have one of each?

* Phrenology - Phrenologist : (fr-nl-j) n. The study of the shape and protuberances of the skull, based on the now discredited belief that they reveal character and mental capacity. Based on Father Kevin's protuberances, Dr. Pebble concludes that if you are a father, you should hide your daughters from our father... amen.

How To Become a Name on Father Kevin's Hit List

Ok, so maybe I've got a ticket or two here and there...well fine, I get tons of them.

I have a small cottage industry fighting them by mail--hell I even set aside a portion of my annual income to pay for them.

Let's face it, parking tickets are just an off tax in DC. I didn't vote for them, but they hand them out so unreasonably, that they might as well be another freakin tax on top of the already ridiculous taxes we have in the district.

Usually its my aging LandCruiser that gets the brunt of the tickets:

and usually I deserve them at least to a certain degree...

But this time they hit me where it hurts. My motorcycle. Now it doesn't hurt because its a lot of money--only a $20 fine.

But it hurts, oh it hurts, because until now, its always been a sacred, uncontrovertable universal truth, or maybe better put, an understanding I have with the parking gods that thou shalt not ticket my motorcyle. I mean, motorcyles cut down on traffic and save parking spaces. There's a reason metered parking for motorcycles is a lot cheaper than for cars, the city has an interest in promoting more people to ride to cut down on congestion. And until now, they've never hit this sacred cow with a ticket unless I did something blatant--like park on the sidewalk overnight ($100--just b/c I was trying to save spaces for my neighbors by not taking up one with the bike).

But yesterday, the world changed. Fortuna frowned. The bastards struck. Hard. I parked my Guzzi by my office in a meter free spot between two legally parked cars. As I almost always do, I backed into the curb, put the bike on the center stand, locked it and left it. The bike was parked perpendicular to the curve, much like it looks in this picture.



I came back to my bike after work and found one of those pink and white, shiny, slimy strips of paper.

MCTik.pdf

Parallel Park my motorcycle?!?! This prick was stretching to reach his quota. He will burn in the depths of hell. I will fight. I will fight. I will fight, like a demon in the night!

MORRIS MUST DIE!!!
AMEN

Ummm yea. It was pretty freakin' cold. But what a great crew and what a nice ride.

Yes yes... its winter - and I suppose the Exit3DC crew is semi-hibernating. Since the last posting - I have managed to drop the SV again in a wash of Diesel... but this is a story for its own post.

The main reason that this needs to be mentioned is this: With the SV temporarily out of commission (bent rim-job) - B was kind enough to lend me his trusty 620 monster. While CF was having flashbacks of unyielding pavement - I was just happy to be on a bike pointed towards the mountains... Overcast skies and chilly wind be damned.

When we started out from The Diner - the weather looked promising. Sunny and warming nicely! By the time we finished coffee and grub - the skies turned steely grey and a damp chill was in the air. Temperature during the ride ranged from the low forties to a bit below freezing - as observed by Paul on his 999's fancypants outside temp gauge! I was very thankful for my long johns - which helped to keep my short john (and his brothers) from frostbite and irreversible shrinkage.

After a quick pre-flight tire pressure check and fuel fill we embarked on our ride. The 620's cold clutch honked in protest at the most gentle launch and the engine temp flashed "LO" for most of the ride... no need to worry about overheating on this run!

C. Fault, Father Kev, Crazy J and myself with Paul and Alycia out for a maiden voyage on a virginal 999. I have to admit, while Paul was testing one of the other bikes, I fondled the 999's lovely bits and pieces - I might have (yes, most certainly) drooled on the tank.

Having traded up (or down in Paul's case) at a gas stop, my first run up 211 was on the 999 - with CF riding pillion. J and I diced back and forth up the mountain at *warm up* pace. It was blissful. Thanks P!

Although it was chilly, traction wasn't all that bad - so there were some runs on J's R6 and we took turns burning off B's chicken strips and *lightly* beveling his pipes and/or footpegs.

FK made solid progress easing the battle-cruiser-Guzzi through the turns... until he froze. Solid. FK didn't complain, he just got quiet. The Guzzi was, by far, the chilliest ride - offering up an exposed groin to malicious wind chill. Leaving a large chest vent open for the ride's fist leg didn't help either!

The girls were troopers - riding with us for most of the runs on the mountain and generally staying alive for the long ride out and back!



We all stopped for a bite and some drink at a pub on the way back into town (see pics of bums being warmed by fireplace) - where we figured out that the ride could be summed up like this:

When you really enjoy something enough to suffer through some really gnarly shit - its not called a hobby anymore - its passion!

...Either that - or its just a nice way of saying "insane" or "twisted"!

Pictures &
A short vid of the frozen