Well, when that road gets to the bottom of the canyon, it crosses the GrandRhonde and starts up the other side, known as the Rattlesnake grade.
Same program, 25-30 mph curves. I had been taking it fairly easy. There'd been some marbles on the road in places. After a few turns up the other side, however, it seemed clear. Nice pavement, no marbles, a little faster, dayum this bike is awesome,....little faster, gawd! this thing is powerslidin out of these corners!....WOW, this is fun!
Ya know, its funny how adrenaline can block out logical thought. I have told many people that ya keep the real hard riding for the track. Don't ride to the edge on the street. It'll bite ya! It did.
I was runnin hard enough that I left no room for error. Came around a blind right hander to see a boulder the size of my helmet in my path. Oh SH*T! Hard pull on rh bar, slip past the rock, uh-oh....messed up balance, changed line....no room to tuck back in for that sharp lefty in front of me...on the brakes....hard.
Almost gathered it back in.....almost. Put 'er in the ditch. It spit me off on the side of the bank and everything stopped.
I said some very discriptive words. With the help of a passing motorist, I got her stood up again. Pulled it out of the ditch and off to the side. dirty, covered with weeds, and looked like someone used a cheesegrater on the side.
All the damage is cosmetic. My old buell lid is done. Oh well, wanted a new one anyway.
Rode it the rest of the way into Lewiston and then the 145 miles home.
So she's a little scuffed but I am OK and it isn't mortally wounded.
The moral of this story;
1.) Don't rip it alone.
2.) Save the really hard riding for the track.
Hope I can see through the adrenaline next time and remember my own words.