Bubba's Bar 'n' Grill

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At any given moment during the course of my day, there will be something whispering. It may be a song (usually) or a memory of some thing, some place, some time, or someone. In the past week or so, I have heard all.
After becoming familiar with my new scooter, learning its quirks-or I should say, complete lack of quirks... I am now comfortable with its workings and have reached that place where I was for many years: At home on the bike.
My knee automatically swings outward and I crowd the tank in sharp corners. (I have located three in Oz) I am relaxed on the super-slab with my left arm crossed on the tank. My hands instinctively know now where the blinkers, blinker stop, horn and hi-flasher are. The fact that the bike is unaffected by winds-whether from nature or a cattle truck on the freeway. My left thumb knows exactly how much pressure that it takes to flic the Bell shield one-quarter or half way up, and at what speed it will automatically shut, depending upon what setting the bike's wind screen is set. These are all things that you have to know without too much thought. The cool stuff happens then; the stuff that you miss when away from riding for any real length of time.

The transition of rough to smooth roadway. Pockets of cool air that sweep over you out of nowhere. The smell of cut grass or a field being harvested. Perfume from the brunette in the convertible in front of you. Dogs next to you at stops, hanging out of their windows. And my favorite: People acknowledging you in whatever capacity that they choose. A nod from the guy in the stunning white Porsche Turbo Carrera. A double take from that brunette wearing Angel perfume. A smile and wave from the kid in the minivan as you soar past him. But-to be acknowledged as a bit outside the box is my favorite as far as this goes.

Thursday night / Old Town in Oz. I go through a roundabout and past a group of hyperbike riders sitting at a local watering hole. They are a mobile aurora borealis... their bikes lighted up with yellow, violet, green and red neon underlights. I hear one of them blast a (greeting?) through a Muzzy pipe as I go by. I cross the river into downtown, and sure enough-here they come. At the second light, they catch up and two pull up to my left. A bright yellow Honda sumpin-sumpin, and a beautiful, red Ducati Monster. (I think). At least they all wore helmets. I nod to the young Asian guy on the Honda and he nods back. He then turns to the riders behind me.
"It's a BMW!" he shouts over the growling snarls of aftermarket pipes. He turns and offers this info to the older Duc rider on his left as well, then turns back to me. "Very nice, man-very nice!" Duc rider offers a thumbs-up. I nod and turn right as they blast their way straight... stoplight to stoplight.

Headed to the east side this morning, I am sitting at a light in a "questionable" area of town. A 1970-something Ford truck with probably ten thousand pounds of used tires on it is turning from my adjacent position. He blows his horn twice and I flinch and prepare to bolt from my position. "Sorry brother," he says, holding up his hand complete with a stubby cigar. "That is a beauty," he says, stabbing the cigar in Kala's direction. "Just a beauty!" he says again. I nod and wave as my heart rate settles to normal. He smiles and flashes perhaps five teeth. Ah well...
All good.
Headed back home on the freeway... again, trying to outrun a storm. I spot a line of sport bike riders headed opposite... perhaps a dozen or so. Every single one offered the "hi-low" as they rocketed past in the eastbound lane.
Welcome back.
Well said. As a non-rider I am impressed, and you fuel my desire to learn how to ride. Thanks. Got it on the bucket list.
My pleasure, Brian.
Ahh...too bad you weren't able to make it to Gina's Open House today in Iowa City. Lots of cool bikes and people, with a good show and decent snacks.
Oh yeah. Totally relate to that. Nicely written.

"hi-lo" for you. Will have to get one in person next trip, sayin?
Bravo Muffy! Makes one yearn to ask the inevitable question...." Hun are the chores done so we can take a spin on Angus? I'm itching to go for a ride".
I have to say that even though Oz is not anyone's destination to ride to or in... this BMW still makes it a trip I want to take.
Of all the bikes I have owned, ridden and/or raced, I could always point to something about the bike and say: "It does 'that' very well. Most bikes will do "that" one thing well, and perhaps everything else is mediocre.
Not this one.
I opened it up through fourth gear this evening, North of Oz, out in between the miles of wheat fields. The wheat was low, so I had a clear view of anything (moo?) that could step out into my path and change my molecular structure. Good Lord. You wouldn't think that a 620 pound bike could pull this many Gs. Insert big, stupid grin here, somewhere near 128 mph in fourth. It felt like I was on an Atlas rocket burning silk for fuel... quickly.

This girl has Morgan horse power with thoroughbred speed and lines, the grace and stability of a quarter horse and the quiet nature of a friendly mare. It is not in that, "does one thing really well" category of so many other bikes. It feels like nothing I have ever ridden. Looking forward to seeing you this late Summer.
(06-15-2013 03:27 PM)Mufasa Wrote: [ -> ]My pleasure, Brian.
Can we start with a Vespa?
(06-19-2013 09:43 PM)BrianW Wrote: [ -> ]
(06-15-2013 03:27 PM)Mufasa Wrote: [ -> ]My pleasure, Brian.
Can we start with a Vespa?

Some of those Vespas are more expensive than a full-on motorcycle. Tongue
Brian, find an MSF class...most provide 250cc bikes for you to learn on. Minimal cost and no long term commitment, and a good way to spend a few days. Smile You'll either love it or hate it.

Life it too short to not explore your curiosities... Wink
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