Ego
Why do I DO that? One moment, I'm purring along, enjoying the road and the beautiful blue sky. Then it happens; a beaming headlight grows larger in my
mirror, and young road warrior on his Bandit 600 approaches swiftly, too close to my rear tire. Little brother wants to play. I remind myself that
being big brother and being married with children, puts me in a position to
be more responsible and give good example. We remain like that for a mile or so, grudgingly observing the speed limit, but you KNOW what comes next. Like
two gunfighters of the old west, we watch each other with steely eyes, waiting for the other guy to make the first move.
I can't discern which gear he's in over the silky growl of my v-twin, only that he's turning lots more revs than I am. Do I downshift and lose that
split second advantage afforded me by my position, one bike length ahead, or do I depend on my SV's torque to pull me up to a speed where little brother
will back off and admit defeat? Ego. So difficult to resist, especially when
one receives messages that one looses his edge with age, younger generation is sharper and has better reflexes. But we get wiser and acquire more
knowledge right? That should balance things up nicely? Only one way to find out. All thoughts of letting piccolo fratello howl off into the distance is
not an option any more.
I downshift to fourth, twist the grip to the stop, watch the tach needle climb and wait until we get into a section where his eventual top end rush
will be stymied by curves or traffic, lest I am left in his wake like a bag of trash thrown overboard. Blowed-up-Bandit-boy just enters his power band
about there. Sun Tzu, the ancient Chinese strategist, counseled that one
should choose one's battles wisely to take advantage of one's strengths and to exploit the enemy's weaknesses. I scan the road ahead: sparse traffic and
hills that hide unforeseen menaces. I know the twisties are coming up, so I bide my time...
Mr. Bandit is getting impatient with me. He draws even then falls back. He glares at me through his tinted visor. I smile and maddeningly continue on
at the speed limit. Over the next hill the road begins to wind in a series of 30-45 mph sweepers. Does he know this? As we approach the bottom of the
hill, I make my move. Clutch in, down two gears, match revs as I release the lever (Here he comes!) and I am catapulted about four bike lengths ahead.
Cresting the hill, my front tire leaves the tarmac and claws for the sky. Preloading the shift lever, I blip the throttle and snick fifth without
disturbing the clutch and interrupting my momentum. That's worth another bike length.
Well over "The Ton" now, we approach the first right hand sweeper. Weighting the outside peg, I shift my butt over to the right and hang off a bit to
maintain traction through the turn. Clipping the apex, I snap sixth gear briefly down the straight. Down shifting again, I take the next series of
left, right, left sweepers, still in front and gaining. Back up through the gears, we enter a medium straight-away, and here he comes again! Things
could unravel, if I don't do something quick. I back off the throttle, and,as he draws even, I give him the "slow down" hand signal.
I am not psychic, but once in awhile I get lucky. Over the next rise, lies a police car checking traffic. We are just a tad above the 65 mph limit, but
he lets us go by without lighting us up. At the cafe, near a sandy beach we stop. Both of us have this goofy grin on our mugs, and he says, "What have
you done to your SV now! That thing is FAST! "Thanks," I say, "the clip-on
conversion I just did gives me more confidence in the curves, but I think you might've had me if we hadn't slowed down for that cop." We remove
helmets and gloves and get some coffee.
What I did was wrong. It was immature, irresponsible, and potentially fatal. But then again, so is crossing the street against the traffic light, and how
many of us do that from time to time?
Ego is an adaptation of a short story, 'Temptation' written by a fellow
rider, Mr. Gary Charpentier.
Zunkus