Two Sundays back, my wife and I were headed into the mountains north of Atlanta and I had a real Mr Toad Experience. I have been breaking the wife into the idea that I am getting a bike... and sort of aquainting her with the differences between sport bikes and cruisers. Up GA 400 I pointed out the differences between each bike coming our way (See, that's another cruiser (spit). Look! Look! Here comes another beautiful sport bike (Huge grin)). Yep. Un-huh. Un-huh.
Well, I played that game all through the flat land and when we turned onto the 2-lane US 19 I pulled us into the gas station and, lo and behold, there were six sport bikers, all leathered up; topping off. We finished first and hit the road ahead of them and, pulling out, I was twisting and turning in the seat like a little kid, "That's a Ninja! Oooh look, a GIXER!" and so on.
Anyway... I figure they are probably going the other way (my general luck) and began to concentrate on my own thing. We have a VW Jetta with a 5spd and V6, so it likes to do "carving" in its own way and I am hanging it out till, of course, we catch up to an old fart in a huge brand new Caddy going around the curves at about 5 mph. That puts a cork in the carving but I figure soon this guy is going to pull off because of all the traffic he is holding up behind us. WRONG! Mile after mile this guy blocks everything. (My wife senses the building frustration and decides its a good time to field strip the SIG.
Then I notice that slow but sure, the six sport bikes we left behind are working their way up to me and "Old Fart". Soon, it's him, me and six bikes. Well, I've been riding this guy's bumper, waiting for a hole big enough to punch through, for what seems like a 100 miles (probably 10 or so), but I figure maybe it's time to leave a space big enough for the bikes to land between us because they can get past him a hell of a lot easier than I can. Anyway, I back off about 50 yards from him, start hugging the right shoulder and try to communicate with the lead bike via some rudimentry hand signals (not yet, not yet, not yet...) so he knows for sure that I see him.
Then it happens... we pop around a sharp right and there is at least 200-300 yards of clear straight road ahead. I do the old "Forward Hoooo!!" arm signal and the bikes just explode around, not just me, but him too! Waa..Waa....Waaa... Waa.. Waa... Waa... The short straight ends in a good left and the lead guy just leans it over and sweeps through... then five more do the same thing and they are ...gone. I let out a Rebel Yell that scares hell out of my wife.
By damn! Just watching that made me roar! That has to be the finest thing short of flying. I gotta get some of that!