my695

Night Riding

Well I had a chance to do some twilight rides and wound up riding home in the dark.
Yes I have become a "night rider" if only in moderation.

I cruised out into the extreme glare of the sun headed west. At this time of year the sun is in a direct line with most west facing streets so the glare is extraordianry. One more reason to ride extra safe and stay within limits.

I should have tilted my head down a bit as I found out on my next sunset ride. That would have kept me from seeing sunspots for a couple days.

I made my way down the open boulevards and my favorite cafe. You can see why like it so much, below.

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The day quickly dipped into night. I finsished off my snack and mounted my "trusty steed" in the evaporating twilight. The night beckoned and the full glow of things in the city reminded me of walking down the strip in Vegas, Times Square or the Champs Ellesse at night for the first time it was WOW.

 

 

 

 

Now with the traffic at a minimum I really zoned into my riding. Feeling every nuance and taking in the night breeze, open air bar-b-ques and late summer scents.  I got off the main drag and breezed through a simple route of local neighborhoods.

I flicked my high beams at cars turning at intersections. This really helped draw their attenetion and they proceeded more cautiously.

As I neared my destination I could not help but think how quickly it had all gone by.

Yes oh yes, my first Night Ride.

Saturdays Just got Better

I had a chance to take a longer ride this past Saturday after some small jaunts during the week.
It was a ride filled with friendly faces, allot of riders including Harleys, buses and of course cafes!

I headed out and got warmed up in the neighborhood first. Warmed up the tires and did some turns in my "safe" zone before heading into the real world. The previous week I had headed out like a car to my destination and it didn't;t feel right -too much too soon.

I took the back roads to the nearest gas station, going around the block so I would approach from the least busy and/or crowded entrance. I felt much more relaxed yet still alert as a pulled up to the pump.

After gassing up I still took some back-roads to continue my ramp up into the days adventures. As I was waiting to turn right at a stoplight in the south end of the city -two Harley riders passed in front of me, one waving back after my initiating wave. (I once read the "Harley Riders" don't acknowledge other bikers/riders but these guys proved the cliche wrong.

I took the right and fell in behind them for my first "unofficial group ride". I stayed with them trough some stop and go traffic magnified by the new Metro crossing that they had decided not to put underground. Yes the one a quarter mile away was underground but this one at a very busy and pivotal intersection had been left up-top creating 2 miles square of havoc.

I crossed my second second set of rail lines with the Harley guys straight on rolled right over, no slips or squirming.

The Harley guys turned right and now I was back in my own zone. I was headed over an old bridge and up a steep hill that I knew since I was a kid but had never rode on a motorbike. Basically this was the one of only ways to the neighboring town. Steep uphill, steep descent. The Ducati manual says to vary the load, so I was just following directions.

I ascended the hill in 2nd gear still with my revs at 'recommended levels" with two cars behind me. As I reached about a 50 yard plateau I put my turn signal on and pulled over to the right.

I was happy to let the cars go by and wanted to descend the hill at my own pace not worrying about tailgaters, etc.

I road down the steep in 2nd gear and then shifted up to 3rd as I approached the base. I bumped my way along an old "concrete" road and up yet another ascent that was tree-lined with beautiful patches of sun and shade. I was all by myself on my side of the road. I reached the crest, this time with no stop and descended an even steeper grade. My experience in descending fire roads kicked in and I felt in control but aware of the weight of the bike and the rock hard surface underneath.

I was now back in the Matrix twisting down an open blvd. "Hey there's that cool cafe with some people still outside", I said to myself. I thought they closed early on the weekend!  With no one riding my rear it was time for "fuel" and a quick pit stop and I came to well defined emergency stop.

The owner was there and she was glad to see me and "I didn't know you rode". "Neither did I", said I as I was having "deja vu" from two weeks prior. A young couple was sitting outside and before I took my first sip of espresso, I was engrossed in conversation about bikes. It turned out he worked for a Moto supplier and we hit it off real well. Just then, the two Harley Riders passed by. I guess I had taken the shortcut, "the road less traveled".
                                                                                                                                                      I finished up and the couple went strode off arm in arm. It was a good day.

I took some pics with the camera phone, courtesy of the Treo 650 and continued on.

Before I knew it I was on the other side of town headed for my destination cafe # 2 the one they call the "paradise".

As I rode by side streets I spotted a yellow monster waiting to turn, we traded waves and I continued on. Wish I could have stopped but the pace of traffic and density pushed me several blocks before it dissipated. Catch you soon yellow jacket-

I was more bold on the open blvds this time but not cocky. I led the pack and kept a safe pace staying out of blind spots.

I was doing about 40 in the far right of a 3 lane when ahead I could see a parallel parker. I had left on "out" next to me and eased off the throttle as I took a quick glance over my shoulder and then switched left and left a wide birth for the parking car. Smooth, cool and onward I rode.

I made it to the cafe and settled in for some lemon cake. I parked at the upper end of the block just before the red zone leaving ample room for parking cars and good visibility.

It was getting late now and I wanted to be back before dark. I took my time putting my gear back on and stuffing my pockets with cookies I had boughtfor friends and family.

As I rode off I came up next to a large bus at my next stop. The noise from the bus drowned out the sound of my bike and I felt as though one of my "senses" were missing. The bus took away one of the key ingredients I use to ride! As the light turned green I relied totally on the feel of the engine and 695 as I released the clutch, I revved it a bit more as I jumped to 2nd still deaf to the sound of that awful bus. Its might be cleaner burning but whisper quiet it is not!

I finally came to my senses as I was out in front and finally pulled to make a left. I rolled up on another biker, Kawasaki and rode behind him for a mile before he turned into a Starbucks parking lot. As he parked and stopped I passed his view in the street, he shot me a thumbs up and I couldn't help to think how synchronized it felt. I guess it was that kind of day.

I made my way back to hometown, old-town filled with Saturday, restaurant eaters, moviegoers, shoppers and revelers. The warm dry wind wafting in from the foothills proclaimed that Summer was not quite finished. The shop entrances glowed a warm hue as the sky turned to a lazy shade of purple.

At the next red light my poetics were interrupted by the sound of sirens. As you know most of us bikers are perched a little further forward when we are at the front of the pack. It has become a natural habit to maintain visibility and remain safe. As the light changed an I could finally see the approaching fire truck. I knew at this point no other car could see it coming. I honked my horn and raised my right hand in a stop formation and all the cars followed my signal and remained idling. The fire truck passed swiftly without hinderance. The light turned backed to red and I lowered my arm.

I glanced over to the car on my left and the driver gave me a big thumbs up and a head nod. A big smile came over my face as I had done my good deed for the day. I headed down the street a few more blocks before stopping before a red. A gentleman and his wife/girlfriend pull up next to me in a convertible pull up next to me. He asks "where did you get one of those?" "Pro Itlalia", I reply " the best shop around. He says " I used to race those in the 60's when they were 250's." I gave him the thumbs up and he rode off to the right as the light changed.

What a great day it had been, I thought as I cruised down the densely tree lined street almost like a tunnel in the twilight hour.

A I reached the top of the drive way I cut the engine and just sat there for a moment. Crickets in the background, dust passing though my headlight beam, my content breath underneath my helmet. All so vivid, so just right. I guess that's what owning a Ducati is all about.

 

 

 

Breaking the 100 Mile Barrier

No it's not breaking the 100 mile an hour barrier, simply topping over 100 miles on the Ducati 695. Somewhere between mile 90 and mile 130 I became a true rider.

As I seem to be posting every other time I'll take you back just a bit.

I was on a quick jaunt to the local Peet's again and something happened. Everything fell into place. All the thinking, the training and accumulated miles just flowed through me into the bike and stuck to the road. I was one with my surroundings, the cars, the trees, sky and my shifting leg were in an unspoken unison of speed and movement.

Everything that I had thought riding would be fell into place in those few miles. I knew what I had seen and heard as Motorcyclists road by - I was now experiencing as it is - as it should be.

The ride was short sweet and to the point and proved an great appetizer to what would be this weeks Saturday 37 Mile ride.

I had been working up North and had no chance to ride for a week and I couldn't wait for today.

I felt great and did a quick jaunt again in the morning, surprised to find out nothing had been lost since the day I became a true rider. I skipped out of the sun for a few hours and then headed back into the streets in the afternoon hours.

The sweet spot was back as I headed through a dozen stop signs and worked my way across the quiet part of town. I had told myself, if all felt well I would finally attempt a ride to the neighboring city to yet another cafe-bakery. along out with all the espresso, cake cookies deli and the best Armenian coffee in Los Angeles.

I felt mentally alert, nothing cloudy I knew I was ready as I would ever be. I headed "out of town" across the old bridge with it's own easy "S" turn. I stopped just short of a crested plateau. I was behind about 5 cars in single line of traffic. I was so happy to be headed to "new" territory that the realization I was on a slight slope came a bit late. When I came to I realized my acceleration would have to be swift and smooth. No time for stalling on this one. I rocked back as I released the brake, clutch engaging, I was off. Smooth and cool.

I took up space and was cruising about 38 MPH. I descended into the neighboring city down a steep wide street that was now turning into a boulevard. I got into the right lane and let the cars blur by. As I entered the green light intersection my antenna was way up. Opposing me was a car ready to tun left I slowed a bit engaging in a lower gear but still keeping pace. He saw me and accelerated out of the intersection and into a long right banking turn.

I made my way across this smaller city down the boulevard keeping pace and making sure every one around could see me. This felt like a true adventure with new happenings and new biking territory opening up my world.

As I reached the 3rd city border I pulled into "you guessed it" a cafe's parking lot. I was in such a good zone, I just needed to pull over and pinch myself to see if I wasn't dreaming! After a 2 minute break I was back in action passing a few Police cars "representing" for the sane biker crowd.

The biggest treat was the final open, tree-lined boulevard on my way to the cafe. I led the pack of cars, setting pace and keeping a good rhythm in my shifting. It felt great to be out there and riding naturally.

As I approached the cafe, many cars were parked in front. I saw no spots and opted to go around the block,as to not hold up traffic. As I came around I found the sweet spot just at the end of the line up with a driveway entrance bordering the other end. The car in front was older model Camry and was low enough to have my bike in full view if he/she should back out of his space. If it had been a SUV with tinted windows I would have opted for another spot.

I got my Armenian coffee and treats and grabbed a seat in the air conditioned bliss. An older Armenian woman, one of the bakers at the cafe tuned from talking with her friend smiled, did a once over of my gear and said, "Superman". I replied, "...more like Batman". It is beautiful she said. I thanked her and was beaming as I recalled my great ride.

Espresso and the Real World.

I wanted to ride. I wanted espresso. I needed to finally deal with the "outer burbs" a.k.a. the "real world" and to put the two together into a cohesive whole.

I picked the route by the old high school with the wide boulevard and light traffic. I knew once I made that final right and descended into the business parks and village that things would change and rapidly.

I mentally rehearsed starting off the line and picturing myself with cars all around. Was I ready? Not really. Did I need a shot of espresso, my Peet's fix? Most definitely. + I knew it would be fun to show up at one of my favorite cafes as transformation of Ducatisti.

As soon as I was headed for the village I was dealing with lane changers, more abrupt stops - due to traffic backing up and smooth rolls on the throttle. I combined them all together. I could feel the adrenaline rush and minute by minute rewards of the skills I had been building up.

By the time I was in the village and turning right into the parking lot (a sharp right and high angle), I was on another planet. As I entered the parking lot a sigh of relief washed over me. Still scanning and on alert I pulled into a small compact space next to Peet's. I'd done it. WOW.

I slid a piece of aluminum between my kick-stand and the hot paved tar parking lot.

Slipping into the interior of the cool air-conditioned cafe, I rattled off my order about a half-caf double espresso. I was "half there" as I went over the ride in my mind, going through the motions of ordering and receiving my drink order as if I was floating in space. I had reached the oasis, safely and I was so proud.

Putting Espresso in the Cafe Racer

2-rides ago - I simply needed to get gas! I did a mental search of all the local stations close to my house and pictured the road ahead and the entry and exit of each station. Even though the 76 was my first choice it was me at avery busy intersection and the exit would not be so fun. The Chevron put me by a City College and that would be even more treacherous given my "newbie" status. I opted for he Mobil and realized I could take sweet side streets all the way with one last dash down a major though-fair to round out the event.

I mentally checked and went through details like how I would pull up to the station, approach, what side the pump would be on - cutting the motor, taking off my gloves how much gas I would be buying etc. Automatic details to an auto driver but a detailed list to the new Ducati rider.

It was nearing sunset in at least an hour and I wanted to take a short spin to the local station. I geared up, hydrated with some H20 and headed out into the Sunset. The visibility was still quite high as I headed out. A couple of straights, lefts and rights. I was at the Mobil.

I approached the sloped drive and eased the throttle in first and pulled forward to the pump. I came to a stop and cut the engine. Kick-stand up and properly dismounted. I took off my gloves and reached into my riding pants for that cool $3.50. As I strode into the min-mart I was real rider to the rest of the world. Everyone present - simply saw me a motorcyclist in a world of my own.

I snapped out of my Super-hero daydreams and put my money on the counter. $3.50 please, on number 6. I was extra polite- I am usually-but I went overboard just to "represent" for the rest of "us".
The "true riders".

Before I knew it I was back at the pump, pumping that first gallon ever so slowly. Bling, bling -$3.50 in.

I started my bike just as I would in front of my house following all the MSF instruction to the "T".
I throttled out to the exit drive and saw it was steeper then expected. With no one right behind me I waited a bit and then power-walked down the slope to street level while scanning the blvd. for anything unexpected. My hesitation and extra caution payed off. I was on flat ground. I know I could have made the dip and turn and have since but the extra time just felt right at the time.

With twilight settling I headed home. This was just enough of "night riding" for now. I had crossed a another hurdle and was one step closer to "real world" riding.