My 2nd Motorcycle

After Ed's Last Resort Rally 2009, I know I had to get another motorcycle.  But with 2 kids in daycare, the money was just not there to buy and maintain a bike.  I already had to sell the boat, so I knew I was going to have to wait.  Plus, I really didn't have a place to store a bike, since the single car garage was full of fish... The Clown Hatchery is a side business of mine.  I breed and sell 4 different breeds/color variations of Nemo.  Every year I hope to retire off of the little guys, but just about the time things get going really well, something happens and I still have to keep my day job.  But sometimes, jobs come my way in my real profession... computers, that I can earn a lil bit of cash on the side.  I just never seem to get enough lined up to save any.  Summer of 2010, we moved to a bigger house, with a bigger garage, with more room for the fish, and a spot for a motorcycle :) 

Santa brought a pocket rocket for my 4 yr old, and this made daddy really jealous.  Luckily that was mommy's idea.  Our son loves grandpa, and grandpas motorcycle.  So that was his big present for Christmas.  He couldn't ride a bicycle without traing wheels, but he learned to ride the motorcycle in a few minutes.  Finally, Dec 2010/Jan 2011, 4 side jobs were lined up that put enough money in my pocket that I started looking for bikes!!!  I figured with the cash on hand, it would be a 30 -50% down payment on a used bike.  I picked a bike, put a hold on it, called the bank, and.....  a week later I called back, long story short, they laughed!  Now I had to re-plan this bike thing.  I had to find one that cost the same as I had... which wasn't a lot.  My options just dropped way down.  I knew I needed a rally bike, and they are on the upper end of the cost scale.  I knew how much dad paid for his Concours, which is a sport touring bike, so I started looking at them.  OLDER versions of them.  The good thing about touring/sport touring bikes is they generally have large saddle bags and comfortable riding postures so you can ride them long distances.  The bad thing about touring/sport touring bikes that are comfy to ride, is people like to ride them a loooong way, many times!  So finding a rally bike with low mileage is a needle in a haystack.  Most have 50,000-100,000 miles on them after only a few years.  But most long distance riders maintain their bikes pretty good.  So I looked, and looked, and looked.  Too expensive.  Only needs a $100 part to be road worthy.  Only dropped once in the grass ( translated to - flown off a cliff).  No test rides... But I finally found on Craigslist, a 1998 Concours, 5 miles from dads, test ride allowed, ready to ride.  He drove it, liked it, couldn't find anything wrong with it, plus it had a brand new rear tire and Givi top rack/trunk.  But it had 72,000 miles on it.  After reading 1000s of posts on the COG forum, I felt comfortable that the bike should last to 150k with not too many issues.  OR it would blow up on the first ride.  What the hell.  So I deposited the cash in Dads account in Tallahassee, he paid for it and drove it home, and I headed down to pick it up that weekend.  I'm the proud third owner of a 98 Concours!  

 I left work at 11 Fri, picked up the U-Haul bike trailer, and headed South.  I needed to get there early enough to register it at the DMV for tags and title.  There was no way I was going to wait to take it out on the roads.  Plus, if any issues popped up, who better to help fix it, than someone on their second Connie.  I drove straight to the DMV in Daytona, met dad and his wife there with the title, and got it all registered up, titled up, and grabbed a tag.  Luckily dad had an extra helmet, jacket, chaps, gloves... all the stuff I still need to buy!! It was cold, but off we went for a real shakedown. ride. 

This time, it'd only been 2 years since I'd ridden a bike, so no crazy moments.  Drove it straight to Pep Boys for carb cleaner to run through it just in case.  Then some hwy riding, and back road riding.   The hand brake light switch was apparently a bit dirty because the brake light was not coming on except with the foot brake on the start of the ride, but it was working by the end.  I'm good at this mechanic-ing stuff!!  She rode like a dream... a rough buzzy dream... but no issues, no leaks, no problems.  Score!  We took the twins out again the next morning, met up with a crotch rocket friend of mine, and did a little bit more riding before I had to strap it down and head home.  I'm liking this thing.  So far. 

I bought 2 jackets, 2 helmets, rain gear, and some gloves.  After a few more rides, I was getting neck aches, which turned into headaches after about an hour of riding.  This is not good.  I plan on muti-hour and multi-day rallies for this bike.  After searching the COG forums even more, and common sense, I figured out the wind was hitting me straight in the middle of the face shield.   It was causing some horrible buffeting of my head.  I had to do something.  So I ordered a new Cee Bailys wind screen that is about 5 inches taller than stock to direct the air over my helmet, and it has a vent to help with the buffeting.  WOW what a difference!  But I do have to look through the glass unless I sit up as straight as I can, then I can see over it.  Its really not an issue... or so I thought.  More on that in the next blog.  I ended up having to replacing the oil cooler due to a cracked thread causing a small oil leak, and there is still a tiny leak coming from the bevel gear housing seal, which so far is not worth the down time to replace the gasket.  But its on the list of major repairs for a minor annoyance.  Changed the oil in the motor and rear drive just to be safe a few hundred miles later.  I bought some RAM mounts for the GPS, and beverage holder in time for Eds Last Resort Rally 2011.  I've finally got all the essentials for a rally bike.  Time to Rally!

My First Rally

Still not owning a bike, I entered Ed's Last Resort Rally 2009.  I (at the time) still had very little knowledge about rallies, how to plan a route, or most importantly... how they are scored.  But dad is loaning me his Victory, a GPS, and a map.  All I need :)  I took a computer to try the 'pro' way to plan a route, but that was more learning than the amount of time I had.  Luckily, Ed's rally is a return to origin rally... you start and end at the same location.  I borrowed a pop up camper from the mom-in-law, bought some Wally-World motorcycle gloves, a 6-pack of 5 hour energy,  3 diff types of pain relievers for a planned sore ass, and some Starbucks canned coffee.  That should be enough to keep me awake 12 hours on the bike.  Off to my first rally.

I get to Ed's Last Resort... which Ed has turned into a nice little campground with power hook ups, a stocked fishing pond, and IIRC, the house his mother grew up in, or the house he grew up in.  Either way an old country cabin that he had moved to the location.   Its a real quaint set up, right in the middle of hundreds of acres of farm land in Surrency, GA.  There is also a covered carport/barn/outdoor diner where all the festivities take place.  Since its all on location, and not a hotel... and the food is primarily cooked on site.  The entry fee covered dinner on Fri, doughnut breakfast on Sat, BBQ dinner and live music Sat night, and a pancake breakfast on Sun... All hand made right there.  Some people just come for the food and entertainment for the weekend, and don't actually ride in the rally.  They call that in the culture, an RTE.. or Ride To Eat.  This year there were 11 bikes that started, but about 30 people onsite for the event.  I got there a bit early to set up the camper, then waited for everyone else to show up.  I met Ed Tillman for the first time, face to face.  Then I met the special guest this year, who was John Ryan.  Hes the one I mentioned in the last blog, who had just completed his 84 hr, Alaska to Key West trip.  He was well know before that ride, and is now a Legend.  Ed keeps good company! Everyone started showing up on bikes, in campers, trucks pulling bikes, bikes pulling trailers...  There were Harleys, BMWs, Hondas, Kawasakis, Yamahas, and others I couldn't identify. Cruisers, Tourers, Dual Sports, and maybe a rocket in there.  All kinds of bikes, and all kinds of people.  Most were seasoned rally veterans,  since most only heard about the rally at other rallies.  It was only me and one other newbie getting our feet wet for the first time, in our first rally.  I got to meet and talk to a few more people, and everyone was free to offer advice.  My issue was, I didn't know what to ask.... so mostly I just listened to other people talk and soaked up what I could.

Everyone floated around chatting until dinner was served.  Ed used a paddle to stir the stew of ingredients that were sometimes questionable.  It would be my first time eating pigs feet that night.  A lil chewy, but not bad.  It had fallen off the hoof, so you never knew what was in each bite.  REAL southern cooking.  ( I found out in the 2011 rally that the paddle I assumed came from a boat store 50 yrs ago, was actually purpose made for cooking... from a reclaimed board...  from an old outhouse. ) But that is the charm of Ed's rally.  No 4 star hotel banquet hall and dinner at a restaurant.  Ed is a country man, and this is how its done in the country...
After dinner, the long awaited drivers meeting happens.  This is where the Rally Master... also affectionately known as the Rally Bastard... hands out the rally packs.  In your pack is all the bonus locations and wild card bonus info.  They go over a few rules, answer any questions,  and clarify any misunderstandings in the pack.  There is also a white envelope in the pack.  We had to put  our license and insurance card in the envelope,  seal it up,  and the rally bastard initialed the envelope.  One of the wild card bonus is extra points for not getting a speeding ticket.   So if you get back w the envelope intact, the points are yours.  This is to discourage speeding.  When all the questions are finally  answered, everyone scattered like cock roaches!  I knew then these guys were serious... off they went with the packs and computers back to hotel rooms or far corners of the carport to blast the bonus location into the computers, optimize the route, and upload it to their GPS units.  I had a map and post it notes.  My dad helped as best he could, but he was planning his own route.  So me and the other newbie, Ernie, sat together w our maps and plotted the locations as we found the cities.  The locations were all the way up into North Carolina, over into Alabama, and as far south as Key West.  But most were in GA.  We spent a few hours laying out the locations and trying to figure the best routes to get to them, as well as pick up the wild card bonuses.  Around 11pm, I think I finally had a good route picked, so time to MANUALLY type them into the GPS.  Now again, Ed is not technically savvy.  But he had a crap load of 'off the beaten path' places he's been to over the years and gotten their GPS coordinates.  And some he's gotten from other people.  If you know true GPS coordinates... not just entering an address, but the N34.51179 W83.52669 coordinates... then you might know there are 3 ways to write a location.  And Ed had collected all three types of coordinates, and had them mixed in the different bonus locations.  The GPS I had only took one kind.  I tried to get some in there... but it wasn't working.  The other issue was, I was tired and the GPS was hard wired to the bike.  So I was sitting on the bike trying to program it, just getting frustrated.  So after about an hour...  FK it!  I had my map, and I knew where I was going.  I would program the next town I was headed to from each bonus stop, and search the town when I got there.  Off to bed.

I don't sleep well when not at my house.  Especially in a pop up camper where you can hear every noise outside around you.  I may have gotten to sleep around 2 am and back awake at 5.  Dad, Ernie, and I unload the bikes off the trailer, crank em up, and drive em to the starting location.  Now this short, 100 yd drive, was the only warmup ride I got on this beast of a motorcycle.  I'm sure I drug my feet most of the way praying I don't drop it.  But I got it there and shut it off.  This also was my only warmup ride on ANY bike in the last 5 years.  A whole 10 seconds...  And I'm about to take off on a 12 hr ride.  No problem.  I popped an aleeve and tylenol for precationary measures, and drank a 16oz can of coffee.  Over to breakfast we went.  Got to talk a lil bit of strategy, and listened to a lot more.  I already knew I was nowhere near able to win, and all I wanted was to NOT finish last.  Ate a few donuts, drank some juice, downed a 5 hour energy, and waited for the start.  The Rally Bastard walked around and got everyone's starting odometer reading, since you have to track your ride to each bonus and put your odometer reading on the rally scoring sheet at each bonus.  I took my last potty break, and donned my gear.  My plan was to let everyone start ahead of me and be the last to leave...  A) Because I hadn't ridden a bike in 5 years. B) Because the Resort was down a mile long dirt road (did I mention I hadn't been on a bike in 5 yrs) and C) I was not here to win it, so to give everyone else a minute or two head start and not be in their way.  I said my good lucks, and see ya's to dad and Ernie, got on the bike, and waited for the go signal.

The Rally Bastard said go, blew a horn, something... I don't remember, and off everyone went.  As I watched them pull out on the road, I hit the starter button on the Vic.  Nothing.  Not one turnover, or even a click... Nothing.  I turn it off, rock it a bit (maybe the starter is hung), turn it on, hit the button... Nothing.  Awesome.  Now remember... I just cranked it up and drove it over here an hour ago.  WTF!  Now its dead.  Ed and another guy come over and try taping on the starter, rocking it again... nothing.  So now we have to figure out how to get to the battery.  We manage to get the seat off, and jiggle the battery wires.  One it slightly loose, we tighten it... Nothing.  So Ed finally grabs a battery pack - jumper cable thingy, hooks it up, and she fires right up.  We put it back together, and I'm ready to go.  Ed reminded me his cell # was in the rally pack and to call him if I need any more help.  I told him my first bonus stop was 20 miles away, so if it doesn't start there, then he'd be hearing from me, and I'd be out of the rally.  And off I went... 15 mins behind everyone else.

Now this was 2 years ago, so I don't remember the details of the entire ride.  But my path took me from Baxley, Ga, up into South Carolina, followed the state line north a while, came back into GA, across into the middle of the state, and circled back down and around.  I learned real quick that having the exact GPS coordinates saved A LOT of time.  I was driving around the towns (thankfully most were teeny tiny) looking for the desired landmark.  I probly spent 20 - 30 mins on the first 3 or 4 locations until I found the locations... but I was seeing a pattern.  Nothing was really hidden, and most were on the main drag, near the courthouse.  So common sense started to set in and they got easier to find.  I was also trying to figure out the new-to-me GPS.  I'd type in the next town, it'd say 1 hr, off I'd go, and 35-40 mins later I was there.  I was always gaining time.... and a lot of it.  The GPS in my car... I was lucky to gain one minute running 85mph in 35 zone, let alone 15 - 25 mins like this one.  And I was not speeding.  Most of the time.  But I was able to settle into a rhythm,  I followed my route, and found just about all the bonuses I went for.  I had already planned a conservative route, but the GPS was not allowing me to accurately calculate just how far North-West I could go and still get home in time.   I dropped 3 locations off my original plan just in case.  No point in coming in late and loosing all the points due to late penalties.  Around noon I stopped, got something to eat and drink, and stood up for a while.  Put a call into dad's voice mail to let him know I was fine (and the bike too), and called the wife to say I wasn't dead on the road somewhere.  I was feeling really good still, not tired, not really sore... a little bit, but that was to be expected.  Took some motrin and more tylenol, downed another 5 hour energy and was off again.  I kept on my planned route and the closer to home I got, I was still dropping a lot of time off the clock.  I should not have dropped the northern most locations!  So I added a few more lower point places not far off the lower leg of the trip.  Still I had plenty of time... but no more places to go in range.  So about 9 hours in, I only had 2 more places to go.  But now I was starting to get tired.  I couldn't find the next to last bonus... Screw it,  off to the last one... couldn't find that one either... FK! And I had all the time in the world to look!  Nope.  Not gonna happen.  It was 10 miles from Eds, and the last wild card bonus was "a 6 pack of your favorite beverage"  the politically correct way to say bring some COLD BEER.  I stopped at a CVS, got the beer, and just knew this was going to be the time the battery is dead again and won't start.  I waited to put the beer in the saddle bag, until after it started... just in case I needed it while waiting for a jump start.  But she started right up... just like every other time except the beginning.  I put the resort in the GPS and headed to the farm... almost 2 hours early.

Expecting to be the first one back, I was surprised to be greeted by my dad.  Apparently, about 4 hours into the ride, his GPS showed his next location to be in the middle of the ocean.  None of his other locations would show up right.  So he mapped it home with a dead GPS and waited for the rest of us.  Now I get to learn about the scoring process.  Its pretty cut and dry, and there are NO gimmies.  If it says write some thing down, it better be written down.  If it says get a receipt, you better have the receipt.  If it says bring it to the table for scoring... you cannot get up to go get it if you forgot it in the saddle bag.  Once you are in the chair in front of the Rally Bastard... you are there till the end.  I lost a good amount of points for forgetting stuff on my score sheet.  The worst was not writing down the points for the gas receipts to 2 states.  I had the receipts at the scoring table... but since I didn't write it down...XXXX. NO points.  And after driving that far out of the way to get it.  But this is how you learn.  I was tired, but still thinking this was a lot of fun.  The most fun I'd had in a while.  We watched the rest of the riders trickle in, most within the last 20 mins of the 12 hr window.  One guy cut it close so he was flying down the dirt road, hit the grass drive way to the area, and dumped the bike.  He was fine, the bike was fine as far as we could tell, and was listed as a few mins early.  One was about 5 mins late after driving the last 200 miles home around 90mph.  He got a ticket 15 mins from the end.  Late penalty, lost the no-ticket bonus, and has to pay the ticket.  Ouch!  But everyone made it back... no accidents, 1 ticket, no mechanical failures.... oh wait.  Dad decided to load the bikes up on the trailer before it got too late and too much beer was downed.  He hit the starter on the Vic, it cranked right up.... but the starter didn't turn off. He immediately drove it to the trailer, starter whirling away, and turned it off.  Starter motor still running.  He pulled the seat, and disconnected the battery... finally the stater motor turned off.  Ok, one mechanical failure.  I'm soooo glad it didn't do that while I was 200 miles from home!  But all in all it was a good day.  Ate some dinner, they added up the points for everyone, and I met my goal.  I did not finish last!  I actually ended up in 6th place!  Not too bad for my first attempt.  On a borrowed bike.  With no real GPS.   I was happy.  I was hooked.

Iron Butts and Rallys

Fast Forward a few years, and changing family dynamics.... my dad bought a new motorcycle.  His girlfriend didn't mind too much.  It was Vulcan 750 cruiser.  Neat little bike.  Fun to ride, looked like a Harley... w/o all the problems :)  He was back on a bike after a long time off of them.  Awesome.  Fast Fwd a couple more years... that lil 750 wasn't enough, and the newest girlfriend wanted to drive one, instead of ride on the back.  Along comes a Victory 1300cc... The Beast as I call it.  It is still the largest bike that I have ever ridden.  Windshield, saddle bags, shaft drive... Really Awesome.  This bike was made to ride.  And with bags, you could ride all day and carry stuff with you. So what do you do with a bike that is comfy, and you can carry stuff on it???

IRON BUTT Rides.  WTF is that?  Somehow my dad heard about the Iron Butt Association, and their sanctioned rides.  He decided this was something he wanted to try.  The "entry level" ride you can do, and get a certification is a Saddle Sore 1000.  SS1000 is a 1000 mile ride to anywhere, completed in 24 hrs or less.  He did one... and another.. then a 1500 miler... then a Lap Of Florida... 1850 miles in 32 hours or less,  touching Perdido Key (Pensacola), Amelia Island, Key West, Naples, and back to Perdido Key... he was the 4th person ever to do it.  Needless to say he's hooked on Long Distance rides.  I'd hear the stories of the rides and the issues that pop up, the paperwork nightmare they are to get them certified.... and wonder why would anyone do this.  Whats the fun in it?  There has to be a reason to do this!  Well there is.  The Iron Butt Association hosts, every 2 years, the Iron Butt Rally.  It takes place over 11 days, and is around 11,000 miles.  And to qualify for the IBR, you have to have completed a select few of the IBA rides, and/or competed in other multi-day rallies and placed well.  A typical rally, unlike the IBR, is 10 - 36 hrs.  Some start and end at the same place like Eds Last Resort Rally, and some start in multiple locations and end at the same place like the Cape Fear 1000.  How a Rally works is its pretty much like a scavenger hunt, but on a motorcycle.  The rally master hands out a list of places you can go see, called bonus locations.  Each location is given a different point value, generally based on how far away it is or how hard it is to get to.  Most bonuses are something like... "In Smalltown, Nowhere, on the corner of 1st and Main is the Courthouse.  In what year was the building built. " And generally the GPS coordinates are also given.  Your goal is to plan a route to drive to the most bonus locations, collect the required info, and get back to the end location before the time is up.  He who collects the most points wins.  Easy right.  Wrong!  They also throw in "Wildcard" bonuses like: get gas in 3 states, get a Vidalia onion in Vidalia, GA, eat a hotdog at three different hotdog stands in 3 different towns... stuff like that.  Those bonii make you have to think, and strategize a bit more than just drive 2000 miles to 50 places.  The fastest rider doesn't usually win.

There is a large size cult of motorcyclists that partake in these rallys.  Some just stop at the IBA rides.  And some get creative with the rides.  I talked to one guy that did a SS1000, 1000 miles in 24 hrs, all within the city limits of NY city.  One of the rides is 10 SS1000's in 10 days.  Enough people did that, so one guy got a bit more creative.  He did 10, 1000 miles rides in 10 days, each day on a different motorcycle (Richard Buber).  But the most extreme ride I know of, and met the rider (same that did the NY Ride) is a trip from Prudhoe Bay Alaska, to Key West.  To get the certification, you have 30 days (720 hrs) to complete it.  John Ryan did it in 84 hours (3.5 days).  Why?  Because someone else did it in 92 hrs and thought he could do better...  What did he get for it?  Nothing.  These rally guys are from all walks of life, electricians, lawyers, mechanics, computer geeks... but they all share an un-natural love to ride motorcycles.  For any reason... or no reason at all.  They just want to ride.

FWD a bit...  Once dad completed a few of these rides, he decided it was time to try his hand in a rally.  Then another.  Then decided the Vic was not a good rally bike.  1.  Its HUGE.  2. The gas tank is too small so it take a lot of gas stops.  3. Its V-Twin vibrates A LOT.   This means he needs something smaller, bigger gas tank, and a smoother ride.  So he bought a Kawasaki Concours, 1000cc, the largest tank on a bike, and somewhat smoother ride.  He slaps on a GPS and is ready to rally for real.  While at these rallies, he meets Ed Tillman, who hosts his own rally every year or so.  Dad asked for the web address so he could look it up, but he didn't have one.  Technology is NOT one of Ed's strong suits.  Lucky for him, my dad's son knows how to build and host websites... And does it pretty cheap!  So he contacted me about doing the web site and email stuff for Eds Last Resort Rally.  I took on the duties, long before I understood the rally stuff and Iron Butt stuff.  I needed diaper money, and I liked motorcycles, so why not.  I found a photo of a really cool chopper online and doctored it up,  made it look really sweet... showed it to Ed, and he laughed. 

"Well son... You don't quite understand what a "Rally" bike is.  Take a look at your dad's bike, and you'll know what I mean."  So then I Googled around for pictures of rally bikes, and started getting my feet wet in this crazy sub-culture.  And I asked dad to send my a picture of his bike to add to the website.


Bike Differences:

Basically,  choppers ( like most bikes at bike week I saw)  are low, loud, and really cool to look at. They have a speedometer, and maybe a tach.  But they SUCK to ride more than an hour or so because they are uncomfortable, and are probably needing gas already.  The rider has on cowboy boots, bandannas, black everything, and maybe a skull cap helmet.  They may have a map stashed somewhere.  Who cares where you are.  They can get directions from the next bartender. (I may be over exaggerating a bit just to make a point... I still want a chopper one day).

A rally bike is a taller bike, wrap around fairings, big gas tanks, windshields, and TONS of electronic gizmos.  1 to 3 GPS units, satellite trackers, satellite radio for weather and traffic.  Spare gas tanks, extra saddle bags, hydration systems. The riders (generally) have full body protective suits that are everything proof... rain, hail, snow...  Can have heated gloves, seats, grips, vests, pants.... for cold weather rides.  Helmets generally have Bluetooth earphones to listen to all the gizmos.  Some even have iPads and netbooks installed in water proof cases.  Knowing where you are and where you are going is king. (I may be understating a bit).

Ed liked the new rally bike picture, and was happy.  Then he invited me to the next rally to experience the rally culture.  Hey why not.  I told dad I'd probably go with him to see how it all operates and get some good photos for the website.  Then the light bulb came on.  Since dad still had the Victory... He offered it to me to actually participate in the rally. Sure!  Why not.  I haven't ridden a bike in 6 years, and my ass was numb after 6 hours on it (dads Vulcan 750).  Whats 12hrs on a Victory?   So I went.

My First Motorcycle

Growing up in Daytona, there are three things that set the town apart from most other towns.  The beach, Nascar, and Bike Week.  I started surfing as soon as we moved there.  I was already a fan of Nascar since my father took me there when I was 8 to see my first race.  And for one week a year, I oogled all the motorcycles that filled the place.  I always wanted a motorcycle since I was tiny.  Mom always told me the normal motherly stuff... "When you turn 18 you can do whatever you want.  Until then, no motorcycles in my house." Well, when you are 10, thats an eternity... for me and mom.  Fast fwd 8 years... I just turned 18, I've been borrowing the parents cars to get to work at night after school for a while, and its Bike Week 1994.  I took a ride one afternoon down A1A to see all the bikes, then back across the bridge near the "old" Beach St Harley dealership... way too many bikes and no parking, so I just continued on to US1.  Hey Look!!  The Yamaha dealership has plenty of parking.  Lets go in there.  An hour later I walked into my dads office, pushed some papers across the desk and asked for a co-signature.  He pushed them back and said "Your mother will kill us both."  I pushed them back with the follow up, "Mom said when I turned 18 I could drive whatever I want."  Still not selling it on him, he told me of a place in Jax that sold late model Vettes for about the same price.  So he called our Ins agent and ran it by him/her.  Ins on the Vette would be about $400 a month,  and only $68 on the bike.  He signed the loan paper work and off I went to the bank, who cut a check to the dealer.  As I got to the dealer, he told me it be a little while as they had to un-crate one in the back and get it ready.  Cool... plenty of time to call around to get a friend w a truck to pick us up, since I've never ridden a 'real' motorcycle before.  And NEVER on the streets.  He gave me a look when I asked for a phone to make those calls.  "Have you riden ANY motorcycle before?" he asked.  I told him I rode a 50cc a year or 2 ago, and a moped once.  "I'll show you.  You'll be fine" he smirked.  I'm not sure if he was looking out for me at this point, or just wanted the bike out the door.  But I picked out my helmet, and waited for the bike to be prepped.  I saw it take off down the road, then come back a few mins later.  Here we go.

I was now the proud new owner of a 1993 Yamaha FZR600, Navy Blue w Purple Wheels and trim.  It had about 90 HP, and redlined at 10,500 RPMs.  It would do 0-60 in 3.3 secs.  And I'm about to ride it home.  In traffic.  By myself.  Never riding a street bike before.  This is stupid.  But hey, I'm 18.  I can do anything.  The sales guy walks me around the bike, pointing out the 500 different parts to it and what I have to do with each one.  Thats alot of info.  "Maybe I should call and get a truck lined up?"  "Don't worry.  I'll show you what to do, and you can ride around the building as much as you like till you feel comfy." I think he is looking at the repair bills that he'll get a commission on too... the same day the bike is sold, and it never left the parking lot.... this guy is smart.  But hes a professional... So I trust him.  I crank her up and he again points out all the controls.  Brakes, clutch, shifter, throttle, blinkers, horn, waa, waa, waaaaaa, waa wa.  He gets me to feather the clutch few times to get a feel for the sweet spot.   Instructs me on braking... More on the front, the back is for emergency.  And off I go in circles around the dealership.  I'm sure there was a pool going on how many seconds it was going to take till  I dropped it.  Luckily... they all lost.  I drove around for about 15 mins... waved at the sales guy, and hit the streets.  I made it home w/o incident.  Mom asked whos it was... I said mine.  And that was it.  I'm not sure what happened behind the scenes w dad... but we didn't see mom for the next 2 weeks.  Didn't have a clue where she was! But she came back, and I drove the bike everywhere.  Work, school, the beach, Jax... wherever I felt like going.  I took me about a week to see how fast it'd really go.  145 slightly in the red zone.  Any faster and I think the bike would literally fly off the ground.  It was real light at that speed and kinda floated down the hwy.  It was as my dad put it... "Not just fast, but sudden."  In a car on the hwy, you pull out to pass at 60, it takes a while to get to 80, then pull back in line.  On the bike, 60 to 90 was 3rd gear and 2 seconds.  It was a dream.  But a few months later I bought a car, then joined the navy, moved around a lot and was always broke.  The Navy really doesn't pay the new guys very much :(  So I ended up selling it for what I owed, 2 years later.  But I always knew I would get another bike.  Some day... just didn't know it'd be 15 years later!