AJAY
Registered
So my Hayabusa riding "friend" is slugging through beltway traffic, bumper to bumper, 5 mph stop and go, finally coming up to the other highway that is only for HOV this time of the morning. Ahh, HOV on a bike is sweet release after 15 minutes of hell on a crawling freeway.
As my friend starts fighting his way across 3 lanes of nearly stopped traffic, he sees another biker just merging onto the highway (the stopped one). Looks like a bagger, some kind of Harley. So as he merges all the way into the right lane a dozen car lengths in front of the merging biker, he gives a friendly wave and a wish of "good luck" to his poor brother about to merge into this awful traffic that he is finally leaving.
The traffic in the right exit lane thins out as the last of the non-HOV traffic fights their way left onto the beltway, and my friend starts to upshift, up to 3rd, 4th, and so on into 6th. Finally onto the big curving ramp proper. He's had enough - just crack the throttle open, up to maybe 80 or 90, but he's busier looking at traffic on the HOV as he merges. A little jiggling, and into the leftmost lane for a bit to pass a big van before the highway shifts down from 3 lanes to just two. Now in front, he settles down to a sedate 75 or so, cruising in the crisp morning air.
A minute or so later he notices blue lights flashing in the mirrors.
Right signals on, start drifting to the right lane, onto the shoulder, full stop, key off. Harley dresser pulls up left. Peel off gloves, hands aren't shaking yet because the adrenaline hasn't quite kicked in. Unzip the stupid bright yellow vest and the armored jacket. Fumble for the wallet inside.
Wallet retrieved. Looking through it, the first card my friend pulls out is the military ID, cause that one gets used more than the drivers license. He leaves it out in plain sight while he searches for the license. It can't hurt. Finds the license and hands it over.
My friend puts his license away, but now the adrenaline is finally kicking in and his hands are shaking a bit. He calms down, zips up, gloves on, and moves safely back into traffic with the Harley behind. He doesn't know why he got off, but the officer probably expected some 22 year old squid on a bike like that. Maybe it was his obvious safety gear, his proper turn signals, a legal, inspected bike, the military connection, his age, or his attitude. Maybe it was the friendly wave before this all started, but whatever, he's grateful, on multiple levels. My friend would like to thank some unknown traffic enforcement officer and brother rider. Your words of advice have not gone unheeded.
And heck, you're his age.
As my friend starts fighting his way across 3 lanes of nearly stopped traffic, he sees another biker just merging onto the highway (the stopped one). Looks like a bagger, some kind of Harley. So as he merges all the way into the right lane a dozen car lengths in front of the merging biker, he gives a friendly wave and a wish of "good luck" to his poor brother about to merge into this awful traffic that he is finally leaving.
The traffic in the right exit lane thins out as the last of the non-HOV traffic fights their way left onto the beltway, and my friend starts to upshift, up to 3rd, 4th, and so on into 6th. Finally onto the big curving ramp proper. He's had enough - just crack the throttle open, up to maybe 80 or 90, but he's busier looking at traffic on the HOV as he merges. A little jiggling, and into the leftmost lane for a bit to pass a big van before the highway shifts down from 3 lanes to just two. Now in front, he settles down to a sedate 75 or so, cruising in the crisp morning air.
A minute or so later he notices blue lights flashing in the mirrors.
Right signals on, start drifting to the right lane, onto the shoulder, full stop, key off. Harley dresser pulls up left. Peel off gloves, hands aren't shaking yet because the adrenaline hasn't quite kicked in. Unzip the stupid bright yellow vest and the armored jacket. Fumble for the wallet inside.
How fast was I going?
About 85.
That's pretty fast.
That's 30 over.
Yep, I guess so.
About 85.
That's pretty fast.
That's 30 over.
Yep, I guess so.
Wallet retrieved. Looking through it, the first card my friend pulls out is the military ID, cause that one gets used more than the drivers license. He leaves it out in plain sight while he searches for the license. It can't hurt. Finds the license and hands it over.
Hmmm. Where's your inspection sticker?
Up there on the left fork.
(The officer gets off his bike, leans over and checks)
You just had it done this month.... I usually like to see it out in plain sight.
Maybe I could put it here on the swingarm next time.
That'd work. Some guys make a little plate for it so they don't mess up their bike.
Yeah, I should do that.
(looks at the license again)
You know, if I give you a ticket, you're going to get an automatic reckless driving citation and you'll lose your license.
Sigh.
Heck, you're my age. (50) You really shouldn't be riding like that.
Yeah, I know. I guess it was the freedom of finally breaking out of that traffic back on the beltway.
I've pulled a lot of guys out of ditches, and from under cars. I don't like doing that. You really shouldn't be riding like that.
Yeah, it was stupid.
You've been riding a long time.
(looks the gear up and down, full face helmet, armor pants and jacket, and the yellow safety vest)
Over 30 years. What do you ride for yourself?
I had a (some kind of Harley). Stroked to 106 inches with S&S cams.
Nice bike. I’ve still got a Sportster at home. And this.
Yeah, but I sold it. I ride this 10 hours a day and it’s not much fun for myself.
Know what you mean. I used to be a mechanic. Liked it, but all my friends kept bringing their bikes over for work. Who wants to keep working in their off time?
I was a parts manager for 10 years at an auto dealership after I got out of the military. But I got tired of it. So now I ride this and write tickets for traffic enforcement.
That’s important, too. And you get outside more. That’s a nice bike.
Once you get used to one of these, you'll never want to ride anything else.
(my friend stifles the urge to say something similar about the Busa).
Yeah, I should look at something like that next. It sure would be nice to have some bags.
I’m gonna give you a warning. Shoot, you’re my age. You really should know better.
It was stupid of me. If you pulled my file, you’d see my record is clean.
I don’t need to. You handled the bike fine through that turn back there. But it’s those cagers I worry about. They don’t know how to handle it when you go by them that fast. They do stupid things. (hands back the license).
I really appreciate this. I appreciate your advice, too. It won’t happen again.
Just be careful. Ride safe.
You too.
Up there on the left fork.
(The officer gets off his bike, leans over and checks)
You just had it done this month.... I usually like to see it out in plain sight.
Maybe I could put it here on the swingarm next time.
That'd work. Some guys make a little plate for it so they don't mess up their bike.
Yeah, I should do that.
(looks at the license again)
You know, if I give you a ticket, you're going to get an automatic reckless driving citation and you'll lose your license.
Sigh.
Heck, you're my age. (50) You really shouldn't be riding like that.
Yeah, I know. I guess it was the freedom of finally breaking out of that traffic back on the beltway.
I've pulled a lot of guys out of ditches, and from under cars. I don't like doing that. You really shouldn't be riding like that.
Yeah, it was stupid.
You've been riding a long time.
(looks the gear up and down, full face helmet, armor pants and jacket, and the yellow safety vest)
Over 30 years. What do you ride for yourself?
I had a (some kind of Harley). Stroked to 106 inches with S&S cams.
Nice bike. I’ve still got a Sportster at home. And this.
Yeah, but I sold it. I ride this 10 hours a day and it’s not much fun for myself.
Know what you mean. I used to be a mechanic. Liked it, but all my friends kept bringing their bikes over for work. Who wants to keep working in their off time?
I was a parts manager for 10 years at an auto dealership after I got out of the military. But I got tired of it. So now I ride this and write tickets for traffic enforcement.
That’s important, too. And you get outside more. That’s a nice bike.
Once you get used to one of these, you'll never want to ride anything else.
(my friend stifles the urge to say something similar about the Busa).
Yeah, I should look at something like that next. It sure would be nice to have some bags.
I’m gonna give you a warning. Shoot, you’re my age. You really should know better.
It was stupid of me. If you pulled my file, you’d see my record is clean.
I don’t need to. You handled the bike fine through that turn back there. But it’s those cagers I worry about. They don’t know how to handle it when you go by them that fast. They do stupid things. (hands back the license).
I really appreciate this. I appreciate your advice, too. It won’t happen again.
Just be careful. Ride safe.
You too.
My friend puts his license away, but now the adrenaline is finally kicking in and his hands are shaking a bit. He calms down, zips up, gloves on, and moves safely back into traffic with the Harley behind. He doesn't know why he got off, but the officer probably expected some 22 year old squid on a bike like that. Maybe it was his obvious safety gear, his proper turn signals, a legal, inspected bike, the military connection, his age, or his attitude. Maybe it was the friendly wave before this all started, but whatever, he's grateful, on multiple levels. My friend would like to thank some unknown traffic enforcement officer and brother rider. Your words of advice have not gone unheeded.
And heck, you're his age.
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