It’s my fault really. After 4 hours of not-really-sleeping, we woke up at 3 and I proceeded to pump myself (and my bag and raingear, when my thermos barfed) full of coffee.
Met with the SFMC folks and I drank a little more coffee. There’s my mistake. When I realized that I ought to have gone to the bathroom before I left, I could only think that it would take me twenty minutes, with all the gear I was wearing. Ugh. So we just hop on bikes and start through the City. This is one of the best parts of the ride, because, really, there’s not a lot of traffic at 4 in the morning on a Sunday. But there are a lot of hills. A few years ago people thought my dirtbike lust was odd, but now it just looks like one of the pack. A big pack. A pack taking the hillcrest at every block as a wheelie or jump. (not me, of course) Wheeee!
On to the bridge, into Marin, off the freeway, stop at the gas station. I really had to pee, and last year we spent quite a while at the gas station before heading up the hill. So, yeah, I was in the bushes when the group I came with headed out. And so the sky was beginning to show light before we approached the top. We were going slow, but I’m not so interested in passing on a ride like this. With all those riders, it could easily become a clusterfuck, and to what end? It’s quite beautiful, the darkness with a line of red lights twisting up through the hills.
So, yeah, by the time we got there the sun was already coming up. Just a few minutes of darkness, and then the people around us came into focus. Drank some coffee, talked some smack, and looked out over the fog and hills and cities below. This view is stunning, sunrise or no.
Two crashes that I know of coming up the hill, and probably more on the way down. We made our way down around 7am I think, and back into the City to the SFMC where we’d been invited to their pancake breakfast. After a few minutes there we decided to leave, because the last thing I need is to spend my day reeking of cigarettes. I do not understand why someone would want to smoke at 7am before breakfast. So icky. Breakfast at Bugaloo’s was OK.
Spent a few hours at my house, working on my dress (for my brother’s wedding next week) while Paul napped peacefully on the couch. Then to San Jose to see my family for Easter. My raingear was coffee-soaked, so I left it. Which was really dumb. The ride home Sunday evening ranged from sprinkling to pouring. And windy. Everyone’s favorite combination.
Sunday morning I spoke with a new SV owner, who ACTUALLY ADMITTED THE SV’s SUCKINESS. Incredible. I feel like everyone who buys one of these things is in intense denial. “It’s not that bad” seems to be a common sentiment. (imagine if people described their marriages that way) Well, if just saying that over and over makes it true, please explain why I see SO many SV’s with crash scars. Seriously, take a count. Matt had pretty much the same experience as me. “Great little engine, horrible handling.” He also freely admitted the whole headshake thing in corners and over bumps. This little headshake made me stack hard last year, and I’d at least like to know that people are experiencing this problem and making solutions. I know everyone likes to be in love with their bike, particularly one they just bought. I honestly wouldn’t have guessed that I could *not* be in love with my motorcycle, but here it is, and admitting the problem is the first step to a solution, eh? Something I need to deal with, AFTER China. Or at least after Italy.
Charles: >i'm sick of hearing your whining. SV. Set a price, I will sell it for you. You have already psyched yourself into a dislike of it, the only answer is to sell it. Sell it now. Stop whining, unload it. Get another bike.
Just like Jack and his XR. After his crash, he does not like it. Same Ting, sell it. Replace it with something elsePosted by Charles on Tuesday, March 29, 2005 at 11:40 AM
Rebecca: After you sell the girlfriend you keep whining about.
Posted by Rebecca on Tuesday, March 29, 2005 at 11:41 AM