SeaCat
Hey, my Halo is smoking
- Joined
- Sep 23, 2003
- Posts
- 15,378
I took the bike out for a ride today. It's been acting up and I think I know what the problem is. (At idle number four cylinder doesn't fire, but it does fire at higher RPM's. I think it's a plugged low speed jet.)
The ride isn't anything special, ten miles out and ten miles back.
It's been raining a lot lately.
As I'm coming up on the turn into my Park I grab the brakes and downshift as usual. I'm doing maybe 45 MPH. I lean the bike into the turn when I notice not one but two problems. On the inside of the turn is a nice pile of sand deposited there by the rains. On the outside of the turn are a couple of people standing there talking.
I don't have time to think, just react. (Here's where training comes into play.) I come off the brake and straighten up enough to kick the bike over a couple of feet. I lean harder into the turn as I feel the back end braking free. It's like riding on grease. To hesitate now is to end up high siding the bike at speed. Instead I roll on more throttle as I lean even more. I can feel not only my pegs but the engine gaurds scraping as the back tire grabs and shoots me through the turn. I glance to the right as I blow through the stop sign into a parking lot even as I grab the brakes and ride them hard. The front of the bike drops and I can feel both tires sliding as I scream through the small parking lot.
Finally I stop and I just sit there for a minute catching my breath. Six inches away from my front tire is the curb, eight inches of concrete. Glancing in my mirror I see the two guys just standing there in the middle of the road staring at me. They just didn't seem to notice they had almost been run over, nor did they realise their standing in the middle of the entrance had almost killed me.
After catching my breath I backed the bike up a bit and wheeled it around. I wanted to get home and check my drawers. I knew there just had to be a brown stain. As I motored up to the end of the parking lot a car came into the turn off. It caught the sand and skiided right at these two idiots standing there. When it stopped these two guys started yelling at the lady driving, right up to the point where she asked them why they were standing in the middle of the driveway.
I just shook my head, kicked the bike into gear and motored home.
It's not just the idiots driving that make life interesting.
Cat
The ride isn't anything special, ten miles out and ten miles back.
It's been raining a lot lately.
As I'm coming up on the turn into my Park I grab the brakes and downshift as usual. I'm doing maybe 45 MPH. I lean the bike into the turn when I notice not one but two problems. On the inside of the turn is a nice pile of sand deposited there by the rains. On the outside of the turn are a couple of people standing there talking.
I don't have time to think, just react. (Here's where training comes into play.) I come off the brake and straighten up enough to kick the bike over a couple of feet. I lean harder into the turn as I feel the back end braking free. It's like riding on grease. To hesitate now is to end up high siding the bike at speed. Instead I roll on more throttle as I lean even more. I can feel not only my pegs but the engine gaurds scraping as the back tire grabs and shoots me through the turn. I glance to the right as I blow through the stop sign into a parking lot even as I grab the brakes and ride them hard. The front of the bike drops and I can feel both tires sliding as I scream through the small parking lot.
Finally I stop and I just sit there for a minute catching my breath. Six inches away from my front tire is the curb, eight inches of concrete. Glancing in my mirror I see the two guys just standing there in the middle of the road staring at me. They just didn't seem to notice they had almost been run over, nor did they realise their standing in the middle of the entrance had almost killed me.
After catching my breath I backed the bike up a bit and wheeled it around. I wanted to get home and check my drawers. I knew there just had to be a brown stain. As I motored up to the end of the parking lot a car came into the turn off. It caught the sand and skiided right at these two idiots standing there. When it stopped these two guys started yelling at the lady driving, right up to the point where she asked them why they were standing in the middle of the driveway.
I just shook my head, kicked the bike into gear and motored home.
It's not just the idiots driving that make life interesting.
Cat
