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REPEAT PERFORMANCE

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    REPEAT PERFORMANCE

    While browsing through the archives of my computer, I ran across this little bit of prose I wrote a few years ago. As I reread it, I thought it may be worth reposting it for our new members consumption. I repeat this ride at least once a week to meet my brother John for breakfast and it is still just as exciting.


    I awoke at 4:45 A.M. on this Dec. 19th 2001 with great anticipation of my
    early morning ride to Oneonta to have breakfast with my brother John. I know

    this ride like the back of my hand, basically because it is a fantastic
    ride. I thought to myself ,I have got to share this with my brother's and
    sister's on Resources. I got up and dressed, put the coffee on, went down to

    the highway and got the paper. It is still dark but the morning is cool,
    clear and brisk, about 45 degree's. I came in and poured a cup and went down

    stair's, turned on the computer to check Resources for any new overnight
    post all the time thinking about the morning ride. Yes I thought, I will
    share this ride with everyone who will read it. So I will begin here-------I

    went upstairs, poured Linda a cup of coffee, took it along with the paper
    and put it on her night stand, leaned down and gave her a kiss
    and whispered, I'll see you later sweetheart. She sighed and said, please be

    careful. With that ,I went out the carport door out to the garage. As I
    walked in and flipped on the bright light's, there she stood, that black
    beauty, that "82" Gs 850 G, all clean and sleek with that snow white
    Windjammer faring on her nose. I turned to open the big double doors and as
    I did I though I heard a soft Winnie and a hoof pawing at the floor. I
    abruptly turned around and thought, no David you are imagining thing's. I
    opened the door's and turned and slipped into my cold morning riding suit. I

    zipped down my leg's and then my turtleneck. I then turned on the switch and

    opened the choke, hit the starter, and she came to life on the second turn.
    After a few seconds, I eased the choke back half way and let her warm. I
    stepped over and picked up the portable phone and went outside into the
    early morning light. I punched the number, it rang once, John said yeah. I
    said, riding out in two minutes. ET should be in about 25 minute's. Gotcha,
    he said and hung up. I walked over, put on my full cover and stepped up into
    the saddle, rolled off the center stand, clicked her in first gear, and
    eased out the clutch. I was off on my favorite morning ride.
    I loped down the 1000 ft. driveway to Hwy 174 and turned west for the two
    miles into Springville. I eased along at 45 or 50 letting the bike come up
    to temp. I flipped up my shield to feel that cold morning air in my face and

    I felt so alive and Black Beauty felt like she was straining at the bit. As
    I crossed over the interstate and in to the little hamlet, even as early as
    it was, out of the corner of my eye I could see people looking, and staring
    and gawking at this stranger, riding this big Black Beauty through town. I
    came up to the four-way stop, [the only one in town]. My turn. This is where

    the real ride starts. I accelerate briskly up the rise of the first knoll
    and over and down into the twist and curve's along Canoe Creek. The
    temperature drop's several degree's and it is invigorating. Across the
    bridge, a nice sweep left and then back to the right and into short straight

    away heading for the foot of the mountain. Ahead of me is a long sweeping
    banked, up hill left-hand 90 leading to a mile long straight angling up the
    mountain, ending with a 180 degree, hair-pin, switch-back corner and Beauty
    is chomping at the bit. I get her whoa-ed down at the switch-back and dropped

    a couple of gears and powered her out for the up hill run to the top of the
    mountain. Here, I kind of let Beauty have her head in these very slight
    curves, left and right and before you can blink twice, we are leveling off
    on the top of the mountain with a view that would be hard to match. I pull
    off at a wide spot. The sun is just breaking the horizon in a blaze of
    glory. It is coming up beyond the Cheaha mountain range some 60 to 70 miles
    to the southeast. It is absolutely beautiful. I hate to leave but I must
    meet John. I ease out on the clutch and head for the long sweeping up hill
    bend to the north rising to the top of the backbone ridge of Straight
    Mountain which looks out over a ten mile stretch of tomato growing plateau
    . As I head back down hill and swing back to the east on a two mile straight

    away, my Suzie GS is breathing easy and raring to be let lose. It's back to
    the north again,down in a swag and up cresting the next rise which leads to
    the two mile descent into the Highland Lake river basin. Across the river
    and into long twisting, curving grade, letting her hang out abit while
    rising to northern pinnacle of the plateau and ending at the stop of Hwy 29.

    Turning north on 29, it was a straight two mile shot ending at Hwy 231.
    Here, I turned west for the final run to my destination. As I accelerated
    briskly down through the gently curving narrows, my excitement of this early

    morning ride was nearing it's peak. As I reached the top of the hill looking

    down on the little town of Oneonta and began my descent, for some reason
    Marty Robbins and the song "El-Paso" came into my mine. Coming to the end of

    the two mile run, I turned back north for a few block's and then back left a

    block into the front parking lot of the Huddle House. As I stepped off my
    mount, I turned and glanced at the glass front of the diner and observed
    several people staring with their mouth's open. I wondered if it was this
    beautiful Black Beauty I was riding or, as I removed my full helmet, it was
    the site of this old coot with snow white hair. It was probably both. As I
    began to unzip my suit, I saw a single headlight coming down the highway. It

    was brother John. Good timing. As he pulled up beside me, he had a grin on
    his face the size of a chesser cat. Good ride I said? Great he said. AS we
    walked toward the diner, talking about where we would ride today, I thought
    how great it was to be alive right here in "SWEET HOME ALABAMA". Y'all come
    ye heah and Merry Christmas to all and to all a safe and happy riding year.

    David In Alabama

    #2
    Sounds like a great ride David.

    Thanks for reposting it

    Comment


      #3
      David, I seldom read longs posts as I have an amaisingly short attention span for reading. I was glued to every word of that. It isn't everyday that I find someone put into words the way riding feels to me. It is good to know there are others out there that like the same things

      Thx for sharing!

      Comment


        #4
        Thanks for sharing, David. It makes me eager for spring.

        Brad tt

        Comment


          #5
          It's nice to hear a good riding story. I can't wait for spring now. Unfortunately it's too cold to even think about riding in maine recently, it's been 20 below for a few weeks.

          Comment


            #6
            Thanks for the repost David. I really enjoyed it.

            Comment

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