defixione » Tue Sep 11, 2012 10:42 am
Well . . . this thread has certainly rained on my parade and contributed to the demise of my ego. In the early 80's I was taking a long weekend camping trip with about a dozen buddies, traveling from San Francisco to Bakersfield (for a Brit bike swap meet) then on to the Sequoia National Forest for camping. My group left the city very early--before sunrise--and my girlfriend and I, heavily laden with tents strapped to the handlebars and duffle bags/sleeping bags strapped to the rear grab bar, were wide awake and excited to begin the trip. As was our group's habit, the Nortons led because we always ran out of gas first and, after a lengthy time on Highway 101 and a fill up or two, my girlfriend locked her fingers together with her hands around my waist and fell back to sleep, somewhere between Salinas and San Miguel . I'll never forget the feel of her helmet bumping my left shoulder and my helmet. Anyway, I was in the lead of the pack when all of a sudden, two BMW K100RSs screamed past me. I had no idea how fast they were going, or I, because my guages were covered with camping gear. As they got smaller and smaller on the horizon, and knowing my girlfriend was asleep, I decided I would try to catch them. I gave my 850 Commando full throttle and about twenty or thirty minutes later I was beginning to get closer to them. A little longer and I was a hundred yards behind them but staying up with them, finally. It was at that point I decided I had accomplished what I didn't know if I could do and backed off the throttle. They took the next exit and I followed, thinking I should refill after my lengthy use of a full throttle. They, too, pulled into a gas station and filled up. When my girlfriend left to use the bathroom and get us some coffee, one of the bikers came over and admired my Norton. After letting me know how beautiful he thought it was he asked, "Do you have any idea how fast you were going?" I answered I couldn't tell (as he could see) because my guages were covered. He told me that, according to their speedos, I had caught and stayed with them doing around 130 mph. All I could say was, "wow." I've never questioned their info nor done enough research to question whether what they said was accurate or not. All I know is that I had a pretty nice glow going for about 30 years that could very well be gone, now. C'est la vie . .