Phalanx
.040 Over
I love when some little "my car is a whatnot with a so and so engine and a fart-pipe exhaust" pulls up, revs at me, and I just let him rip on past....Knowing full well that he wouldn't even be a breakfast snack to this monster. You go ahead and get that ticket, I could have peeled the paint off your doors with a flick of my wrist.
I look forward to that big open bridge that stretches on for ages and the feeling that old-man wind is having a tough time shoving me around because the monster on 2 wheels under me has bigger teeth and knows how to plow through him.
I love the 2 am back-roads where I can go hunting for that line, a little more lean here, a little less there and that anti-gravity feeling of whipping an uphill turn as you get back on the throttle.
I grin from ear to ear at the gas-stations, taking my time, not ripping through and racing to get from one box to the next...house box...car box...office box....food box....all full of processed air and mindless repetition.
I love when I get to a stop-light and a guy on a scooter pulls up, his eyes wide like saucers and rather than ripping off the line, I ease on out with him for just a little ways, slow and deliberate.....One day, that guy on that scooter may be another brother of mine on a real motor and I want him to remember this one when he goes to buy his!!
I hate getting home and knowing the ride is over for the night. Having to lock it up and turn off the lights on something that has a life of its' own, a full on dose of fire-breathing dragon, a chariot to Olympus, Valhalla and everywhere else the men of steel go when the candle goes out for the last time.
I want to ride this **** thing until they have to handcuff me to my walker and pry my gnarled angry little fists off the handlebars while I'm cussing enough to make the lot of them blush and God help 'em if they ever take their eyes off me for a minute because the last sound they're gonna hear is that triple spinning up and the ground begging for mercy.
Hell yes, born again riding the highways and backroads in the saddle of a modern day T-Rex in disguise.
I look forward to that big open bridge that stretches on for ages and the feeling that old-man wind is having a tough time shoving me around because the monster on 2 wheels under me has bigger teeth and knows how to plow through him.
I love the 2 am back-roads where I can go hunting for that line, a little more lean here, a little less there and that anti-gravity feeling of whipping an uphill turn as you get back on the throttle.
I grin from ear to ear at the gas-stations, taking my time, not ripping through and racing to get from one box to the next...house box...car box...office box....food box....all full of processed air and mindless repetition.
I love when I get to a stop-light and a guy on a scooter pulls up, his eyes wide like saucers and rather than ripping off the line, I ease on out with him for just a little ways, slow and deliberate.....One day, that guy on that scooter may be another brother of mine on a real motor and I want him to remember this one when he goes to buy his!!
I hate getting home and knowing the ride is over for the night. Having to lock it up and turn off the lights on something that has a life of its' own, a full on dose of fire-breathing dragon, a chariot to Olympus, Valhalla and everywhere else the men of steel go when the candle goes out for the last time.
I want to ride this **** thing until they have to handcuff me to my walker and pry my gnarled angry little fists off the handlebars while I'm cussing enough to make the lot of them blush and God help 'em if they ever take their eyes off me for a minute because the last sound they're gonna hear is that triple spinning up and the ground begging for mercy.
Hell yes, born again riding the highways and backroads in the saddle of a modern day T-Rex in disguise.
