.png "Powered by vBulletin")
The bug is really starting to take a deep hold. Not being satisfied with buying my GS1100G last year after a 20+ year absence from owning a motorcycle, I’ve been on the lookout for more. Well, a former co-worker that I recently contacted, informed me of his intention of selling his 1983 GS1100ES that I had originally given him the lead on a year ago. Long story short, I went, I saw, I bought, I fixed (replaced R/R and battery) and I drove it home. Now what have I done? Two vintage superbikes in my garage. Which do I ride?
Decision???…today I ride my “new” ES for the 70 mile roundtrip to work. Despite forcasts of rain and thundershowers, I couldn’t pass up a mild, sunny, 65 degree (unusual for NH) morning commute and packed the rain gear and laptop in my backpack and headed out.
As I headed south through the country roads of NH on my way to the city for work, I slowed to 50 mph behind a group of maybe 8 cars pooping along. What to do? Starting to mentally slip into past youthful driving habits, I plotted my escape. Mile after mile passed, with no reasonably safe way to blow by them, I waited for my opportunity to pounce. Sitting on 120+hp (rejetted,4 into 1 headers, and pods) of bike, biting at the bit to unleash, I finally saw my opening! A ¼ mile stretch of straight passing lane and yesireee, I nailed it and let her go. Not even dropping down to 4th gear, that old bike flew by car after car without hesitation. Seconds later, as I guided it back into my lane, zipping ahead of the lead slowpoke car, I looked down and realized the speedo was at 103 mph! Seeing the gap closing between me and the next group of “slow” cars I toyed with staying on it and putting them away, but I came to my senses. Closing the throttle down and touching the front brakes, I resumed my mundane role of being another mindless rummy in the procession of commuters plodding their way to work.
Again, mile after mile passed until I came out on Rt 3A, that winds south along the “mighty” Merrimack river.
Now my mind switched gears, not wanting to blast by pokey cars anymore, I started to take in my surroundings…the sunlight sparkling off the lazily running river water, the smell of the lilacs in bloom, the sun rays peeking through the gaps of onrushing trees, the rush of warm air up my pant legs and on my neck. Back to the past….young and many years ago…memories of drifting along the Swift river, way up in northern NH riding the old Norton 850 Commando. Sunlight sparkling off the rippling river, long winding curves on the pavement rolling under my front tire, trees snapping by endlessly. The backpack loaded with only a change of clothes, a towel, candy bars(Snickers and O’Henry’s to be exact), and other “refreshments” and “goodies”. Destination?….the river falls with ice cold river water, hot sun, sitting on the rocks…..no!…no!…wait!....too late….damn!….aaaagggggghhhhh…fast forward 30+ years...
I am back to the present, pulling onto the highway only a few miles from work. Now in my backpack was a laptop(what is that?), rain gear(never used that before?) and cell phone(how does that thing work?). Wrenched back from the past and back to reality!!!!! and end of this chapter.
Decision???…today I ride my “new” ES for the 70 mile roundtrip to work. Despite forcasts of rain and thundershowers, I couldn’t pass up a mild, sunny, 65 degree (unusual for NH) morning commute and packed the rain gear and laptop in my backpack and headed out.
As I headed south through the country roads of NH on my way to the city for work, I slowed to 50 mph behind a group of maybe 8 cars pooping along. What to do? Starting to mentally slip into past youthful driving habits, I plotted my escape. Mile after mile passed, with no reasonably safe way to blow by them, I waited for my opportunity to pounce. Sitting on 120+hp (rejetted,4 into 1 headers, and pods) of bike, biting at the bit to unleash, I finally saw my opening! A ¼ mile stretch of straight passing lane and yesireee, I nailed it and let her go. Not even dropping down to 4th gear, that old bike flew by car after car without hesitation. Seconds later, as I guided it back into my lane, zipping ahead of the lead slowpoke car, I looked down and realized the speedo was at 103 mph! Seeing the gap closing between me and the next group of “slow” cars I toyed with staying on it and putting them away, but I came to my senses. Closing the throttle down and touching the front brakes, I resumed my mundane role of being another mindless rummy in the procession of commuters plodding their way to work.
Again, mile after mile passed until I came out on Rt 3A, that winds south along the “mighty” Merrimack river.
Now my mind switched gears, not wanting to blast by pokey cars anymore, I started to take in my surroundings…the sunlight sparkling off the lazily running river water, the smell of the lilacs in bloom, the sun rays peeking through the gaps of onrushing trees, the rush of warm air up my pant legs and on my neck. Back to the past….young and many years ago…memories of drifting along the Swift river, way up in northern NH riding the old Norton 850 Commando. Sunlight sparkling off the rippling river, long winding curves on the pavement rolling under my front tire, trees snapping by endlessly. The backpack loaded with only a change of clothes, a towel, candy bars(Snickers and O’Henry’s to be exact), and other “refreshments” and “goodies”. Destination?….the river falls with ice cold river water, hot sun, sitting on the rocks…..no!…no!…wait!....too late….damn!….aaaagggggghhhhh…fast forward 30+ years...
I am back to the present, pulling onto the highway only a few miles from work. Now in my backpack was a laptop(what is that?), rain gear(never used that before?) and cell phone(how does that thing work?). Wrenched back from the past and back to reality!!!!! and end of this chapter.