08-19-2014, 06:51 AM
Dear reader,
Some of you, I know followed my exploits in the run up to CB ownership.
You may recall my narrow escape from the Kawasaki sales babe, the Clearing Of The Garage, my traumatic test ride, the total failure of my negotiating skills with the Honda salesman, and the warm glow of ownership mirroring the little red glow in the centre of the Honda badge.
So, you may ask, how's the squid getting on?; has he, as Cager would say, been giving the beans to it?, are there scuffed patches on his leathers at knee and elbow?, has the Institute of Advanced Motorists been clamouring for his advice in a consultancy role? Do police motorcyclists bow down and proclaim "we're not worthy" as he glides past?
No, gentle reader, let me tell you what the squid did on his second day of ownership.
He dropped it.
Surely, you proclaim, he must have been on the very edge of the envelope, gonads dangling in the slipstream, steely eyes fixed on the vanishing point, rear end squirming and juddering under power.....
No.
Sadly, he was pulling out of a junction onto a completely empty road when, at walking pace, he stalled it, and failed to pull the clutch in.
The bike which was practically stationary by then, did a passable imitation of a felled redwood tree, with pretty much the same terrible unstoppable momentum.
That didn't stop the squid from trying to stop it though, oh no, never let it be said that the squid was ever put off by trifles such as the laws of physics.
The bike suffered a few, barely noticeable scratches on the mirror, brake handle, engine cover, and exhaust (and I'm sure the brake pedal was always at that angle).
Sadly, all that energy had to go somewhere, and the squid suffered a torn hamstring, and pulled muscles in his arm.
(Not too painful, but the bruising that came out a week later was biblically spectacular in colour and extent)
Needless to say, there were bystanders who saw the whole sorry incident and rushed over to help.
None of the inconsiderate so and sos had the grace to turn away and let me die of embarrassment in peace.
On the plus side, I can report that the 'bum against the seat, back to the bike, hold grip and pillion handle, and walk backward' method of lifting the bike works a treat, as does the 'engine cutout on falling over'.
Ho Hum.
Some of you, I know followed my exploits in the run up to CB ownership.
You may recall my narrow escape from the Kawasaki sales babe, the Clearing Of The Garage, my traumatic test ride, the total failure of my negotiating skills with the Honda salesman, and the warm glow of ownership mirroring the little red glow in the centre of the Honda badge.
So, you may ask, how's the squid getting on?; has he, as Cager would say, been giving the beans to it?, are there scuffed patches on his leathers at knee and elbow?, has the Institute of Advanced Motorists been clamouring for his advice in a consultancy role? Do police motorcyclists bow down and proclaim "we're not worthy" as he glides past?
No, gentle reader, let me tell you what the squid did on his second day of ownership.
He dropped it.
Surely, you proclaim, he must have been on the very edge of the envelope, gonads dangling in the slipstream, steely eyes fixed on the vanishing point, rear end squirming and juddering under power.....
No.
Sadly, he was pulling out of a junction onto a completely empty road when, at walking pace, he stalled it, and failed to pull the clutch in.
The bike which was practically stationary by then, did a passable imitation of a felled redwood tree, with pretty much the same terrible unstoppable momentum.
That didn't stop the squid from trying to stop it though, oh no, never let it be said that the squid was ever put off by trifles such as the laws of physics.
The bike suffered a few, barely noticeable scratches on the mirror, brake handle, engine cover, and exhaust (and I'm sure the brake pedal was always at that angle).
Sadly, all that energy had to go somewhere, and the squid suffered a torn hamstring, and pulled muscles in his arm.
(Not too painful, but the bruising that came out a week later was biblically spectacular in colour and extent)
Needless to say, there were bystanders who saw the whole sorry incident and rushed over to help.
None of the inconsiderate so and sos had the grace to turn away and let me die of embarrassment in peace.
On the plus side, I can report that the 'bum against the seat, back to the bike, hold grip and pillion handle, and walk backward' method of lifting the bike works a treat, as does the 'engine cutout on falling over'.
Ho Hum.
. 
