clapped out bike,
no side panels'
1/2 bald rear tire
rear fender?? who needs them??
bill said if you can start it have at it...
oh now that's a challenge if I've ever heard one..
he grinned at my sneakers and didn't believe I was
going to do what I set to... 1st I looked in the tank
ewe... so I turned on the petcock and tipped
the bike on it's side until I strapped on the white
open-faced helmet & tucked in my shirt..
next I tipped the bike back up and gently
fluffed the kicker thru 2 times, choke on 1/8 throttle
& kick it like I mean it and a pop fluff, ran the kicker
thru two more time slow the top dead center
and kicked it again to have the maniacal ring a
ding of an open class monster bike sprung to life..
the bike made those I'm not quite warmed up
gargling noises and thunked into gear noisier
than a 1940's Harley..... the bike lurched forward
and I dragged my toe as I made my way towards the
back 40.... the cows looked up to see what the ruckus
was all about and then went back to munching cud
I on the other hand had the choke off and was
blipping the throttle in sweet anticipation of rototilling
the sweet corn field.. yep this bike is a menace to society
women ran to the window gathering up their children and
warning of the horrors of open class bikes the wee tiny
boys peering around their mother skirt making burraaapp
noises much to the glee of their little sisters.... the beast
from within takes over and I let a gear rip, mud arcs in
a cascades 40 yards in a thick brown rainbow. before the rear
gains traction I run it thru the gears trenching my way to the
tree line at warp ten (Scotty: "I'm giving it all she's got")
it then I remember the brakes from the 80's and decide
pucker squeeze & pray was the order at hand & the corn
stalks provided a whappedty whap noise now that the
exhaust was no longer summoning Thor & Zeus to come out & play
a gap magically appears in the forest opening into a sap trail,
I ease up on the front brake and point the infernal beast
to the gap, it is then I realize the cr500 is not really noted
for tight single track prowess... that noted I fear no issue
will become me because I'm on the finest steed
known to mankind, the suspension soaked up the ford 8n
swallowing galleys' & spat me out the other side of the trail
near the gas lines.................... oh gravel & long straights
sweet momma jambalaya... wheeeee a mere second later
I'm in the next state and thinking about the 1/4 tank of fuel
and point myself back towards the stable.... a chip & tar
road hay field & apple orchard later I'm back all in one piece..
bill says you're missing a bit of pant leg, I say that's okay
I gained a ear swallowing grin, thanks, I owe you a beer
or three, he said no worries just park it in the 1st stall
cause I'm going riding later....
john
nutball
XML Sitemap