Day one (proper) of the tour. The bikes were tested yesterday and I have to say, a few old boys seemed a bit pale when they came back (lots said they had ridden bikes before, but I think they weren’t prepared for the size/ weight and speed these beasts can get up to). As an aside to this. I walked to a seven eleven for some cash but helped a guy from Ohio change his wheel instead! (Bus mans holiday?) then it was out for a beer or two (well four to be exact) they were necked, laughs were had and photos of one of the guys girlfriends “Bumping Fuzzies” were shown !!!! Then it was back for a briefing (the word briefing having the opposite meaning for this briefing) and pizza and wings! (There was the start to a healthy diet)
As I said, day one (proper), another (non brief) briefing and eventually we hit the road. I say eventually, I had been awake since four o fucking clock and it was now half seven/ eightish!!! So my dummy was chewed! But then it all went great! Out onto the interstate (6 lane highway with two lanes added for carpooling) only a couple of things went wrong really, nothing to write home about (although I AM doing that aren’t I) first off, at our very first rest point, the guys in front came in a little too slow and promptly lay their bike down (not gently, but promptly) with the rider trapping his leg in some god awful position under the feet rests, as the pillion fell on his arse with a thud (he’s a bit of a big guy, hence the thud). Bandages, strapping systems and a hug or two later, they were separated from the carnage and put on separate bikes for the rest of the day.
Meanwhile, on the widow maker, (yup, that’s mine) my rider decided to take a left hander without trying to lean, but by dragging the handlebars in the general direction. Now anyone who knows, knows this ISN’T the way to ingratiate yourself with the author (ME). He let out a little squeal as he saw us heading towards the tree line, I close my eyes and wondered what sort of wood I would have for my casket. At the last minute I gave him a dig in the ribs (to show my annoyance) and a yelling into his shell like. Death averted, we carried on but with a rather reticent attitude to anymore left hand bends. (The right handed ones he hit perfect every time) all was gong well through the “Death Valley” type places, I even saw a sign for “Joshua Tree” then for a split second he lost concentration and we nearly ended up riding over the bike in front, and I mean OVER the bike in front. As I watched, we hit Mach 3 with another Harley only touching Mach 1 about 16 inches in front of us.