motorcyclemeditation.com

Chattering and excitement in our little local motorcycling community over the last week. Pecking orders overthrown by the unheralded appearance of a brand new black R1, a dream motorcycle more fantasized about than actually owned. This one left nonchalantly in a parking bay all day, must mean that the owner can keep an eye on it, the risk occasioning much discussion, so mouthwatering an object surely a magnet for thieves.

Standing nearby, a group of us chatting like schoolboys, just about managing to keep slack jaws firm. The motorcycle’s attenuated racehorse lines, the imperious athleticism, irresistible.

To my mind, difficult to live with, I’d rather have something a bit less high maintenance. This view however kept private, rather just listen in on others’ commentary. Suspension, chassis, engine, so forth. Startling expertise on display from painters and plumbers and accountants, motorcycling enthusiasts all. Questioned them once on the underlying physics, got strange looks.

The comments including a range of suggestions as to modifications to make the motorcycle go faster. Me just about to say, why the hell would anyone want to do that, biting back the words, clamp jawed, best keep that view private too, they may stop talking to me.

The mystery persisting, who owns this thing. Eventually, the truth discovered. The discoverer immediately the centre of attention, playing it cool, knew it all along, oh, you know, that guy works in the gym, muscles. What he with the pecs, delts, lats, triceps, biceps, abs and rolling gait. Yup, he.

Well now, quite a package, steroid man on steroid motorcycle. Those engineers, spent endless effort shaving the odd gram off the machine weight, guess they would be interested to see it ridden by one working hours a day to put it back on the rider. Still, mustn’t keep falling into the same old trap, take things literally, must remember, it’s all about display.

And feels good to have this new addition to local buzz.