Tweet
Really it wasn't my fault...
Some guy on sporty with lots of patches and straight pipes was messing around with a kid and his girl on a 250 bullet bike. Causing all kinds of trouble and the kid never bit. I wheeled up next to the crotch rocket and said "Maybe if we had ape hangers and some assless chaps we would be cool like that." The guy on the sporty was behind me and I guess overheard our private conversation. When the light turned, he tried to pass me on the right, when I was already abreast the little crotch rocket. Being the inconsiderate jerk I am, I had to show him up. Somewhere around 80 (in a 20) he let up, and I was faced with the back of a mustang or an extended tail gate on an old F250. As I grabbed some brake and down shifted, the back end of the bike started bouncing and making a hell of a chirping sound as the tire squeeked repeatedly. I just kept my line and firm pressure on the front brake, missing the tail gate by mere inches, at which point the Sporty was doing a flat track type turn where it is half laid over and the rear tire is locked up. I may be an inconsiderate jerk, but if there is pain to be inflicted, I want to be the one inflicting it, so I switched lanes and let him contemplate the finer points of an extended tail gate. I guess it gave him enough room, and he got squared up again.
He pulls up next to me at the next light, and what do you know that Harley would idle with out constantly whacking the throttle. He looked over and grinned and said "I'll bet that got your heart going." At that point, I couldn't restrain my self any longer and burst into a snorting laugh that drown out the straight pipes, and promptly left him in the dust once again.
I am an ass.
Some guy on sporty with lots of patches and straight pipes was messing around with a kid and his girl on a 250 bullet bike. Causing all kinds of trouble and the kid never bit. I wheeled up next to the crotch rocket and said "Maybe if we had ape hangers and some assless chaps we would be cool like that." The guy on the sporty was behind me and I guess overheard our private conversation. When the light turned, he tried to pass me on the right, when I was already abreast the little crotch rocket. Being the inconsiderate jerk I am, I had to show him up. Somewhere around 80 (in a 20) he let up, and I was faced with the back of a mustang or an extended tail gate on an old F250. As I grabbed some brake and down shifted, the back end of the bike started bouncing and making a hell of a chirping sound as the tire squeeked repeatedly. I just kept my line and firm pressure on the front brake, missing the tail gate by mere inches, at which point the Sporty was doing a flat track type turn where it is half laid over and the rear tire is locked up. I may be an inconsiderate jerk, but if there is pain to be inflicted, I want to be the one inflicting it, so I switched lanes and let him contemplate the finer points of an extended tail gate. I guess it gave him enough room, and he got squared up again.
He pulls up next to me at the next light, and what do you know that Harley would idle with out constantly whacking the throttle. He looked over and grinned and said "I'll bet that got your heart going." At that point, I couldn't restrain my self any longer and burst into a snorting laugh that drown out the straight pipes, and promptly left him in the dust once again.
I am an ass.
Comment