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MOM! He Got Dead Bugs All Over Me! (RIde to Short Cut


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All right, so this is an RT BBS. There were plenty of RTs on the ride up to Short Cut’s... I just happened to be on a K12RS. On the BACK of a K1200RS. Master Yoda on the front, (did I say Master Yoda?, I meant Dick Frantz) leading the group, and making sure I never got a view of anyone else’s taillights.

What was I doing on the back? Well, let’s just say I wanted the education and experience. And geez, did I ever get it. All that, and a lifetime splattering of dead bugs.

Dick and Steve A were already waiting when I got dropped in Mojave. Barry K, Russell Bynum with his wife Lisa, and Brian T and Megan pulled up soon after. 9:30 hit and it was time to go.

And go we did. Next stop was (I think) McKittrick. At every stop I asked Dick “where are we”, and his answer was inevitably “Here”. This was where Gleno and wife Terri, Mensch, and Brant Hebert met us. If I left anyone out, please forgive me, when you’re having too much fun, you’re allowed to forget a few details, aren’t you? Besides, always being in front means you never get quite the same perspective on who’s back there. (Am I gloating? Sure, even though I had nothing to do with the fact that I was always in front!)

We continued on 58 into some of the most dense fog I ever hope to see. I‘m on the back, with almost no visibility, thinking that Master Yoda MUST be able to see more than I can. We went slowly and carefully, but ONE of us has to see where we’s goin’ doesn’t we? As it turned out, Dick said he couldn’t see any better than I could, but by the time I found THAT out, we were through it, so was there any use to worry?

After the fog cleared, there was still plenty (plenty enough for me, anyway) of the good part of 58 left. Time for me to sit back and watch like a good passenger. What a ride. You know Disneyland charges people a whole bunch of money for stuff that doesn’t compare with what I went though?

You know, these guys that love their RSs have a point. Smooth, wonderful, oh-sh*t -please-don’t-stop kind of stuff. No, I’m not going to trade in my RT. But I understand the point now.

When we got to Santa Margarita I was kind of liquid – silly, speechless, smiling, ready to sit down. Don’t ask me any more questions, just let me sit down and be brainless for a bit. I was. It was a ride to remember. I will.

Sadly, we missed Jonathan Multhlaup and another RT rider by just a few minutes.

After lunch, it was time to GO again. This time on to 198 and 25. I think. (“Where are we?” “Here.”) 25 was what made an impression on me. Mix the rolling hills, barely sprouting a fresh coat of soon-to-be brilliant green, cows, curves, ups and downs, and Yoda with the K12. Is there much else that could possibly be important in life? Are any of the other inconsequential details of living relevant at this point? Again, I just went along for the ride, watching the road, the scenery. the angles and the curves. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and from such a lazy place. They say cheaters never prosper, they’re wrong. Sat on the back. None of the real work and almost all the fun.

There was one straight stretch where Dick leaned far forward. It seemed logical that I should do the same. Images transformed into blurs as we slipped into another zone. When we finally slowed from Warp, Dick signaled 1-4-0. Lovely. Can we do it again? PLEEZE?

More of the sweet corners and curves, than onto 101. This was a bit more routine, so I zoned out, remembering what had been and could be again. Found myself dozing off waiting for the next wonderful set of twisting curves.

From there on the trip became more routine, somewhat straighter and tamer, but still lovely. Daylight faded as we started the straight stretch north, and confronted thickening Friday night traffic. Darkness fell, and the garlic scent guided us through Gilroy. Further up the road, Russell and Lisa turned off toward San Jose, leaving the rest of us to fight with more traffic. I got a new lesson on Lane-Splitting. Finally around 7 pm we found our way to the Courtyard.

Speaking for myself, I was tired and happy. Ready to get up and start the day over again tomorrow. But, OH NO, the K12 is protesting, and won’t start after we stop at the hotel. Did I do something wrong and offend this wonderful machine? I sure hope not.

Yeah, I gotta go. Time to wash my formerly yellow and black jacket. Darn thing is just COVERED with dead bugs. How DID that happen?




'01 Opal Blue "Big Blue"

'01 Red SV650 "(Naked) Jake"

[This message has been edited by Laney (edited 12-09-2001).]

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