Boohm (long, unhappy)

[Patti Beadles <pattib@xxxxxxxxxx>]

Some days it's best to just stay in bed.

I got up at a ridiculous hour this morning (7 a.m.) so that I could
meet Paul Master at Sears Point for the races.  I was greeted with
an ugly rain... constant but not excessively heavy.  I briefly
contemplated staying home, but then I realized that I didn't have
Paul's phone number, and I would have felt like a wimp for chickening
out because of a little bit of water.  So I pulled out my rainsuit,
threw necessary stuff into the panniers, and headed across the
street to the garage where I keep Booh.

I'd parked him there on Tuesday evening when I got back from Vegas,
and hadn't ridden him since.  When I unlocked the garage, I thought
I picked up the faint smell of gas.  Sure enough, there was a small
puddle under the bike.  I swore under my breath, and made a note
to call CalBMW on Monday.  Stupid fuel senders.

So off to Sears Point I went.  It was rainy and foggy, and I decided
that it was a good day to take it easy, but I got to the track
without incident, and had a great time watching bikes while I waited
for Paul.  I was most amused to see that several people had trucked
in sportbikes, rather than riding them up.  Wimps.

When Paul showed up about ten minutes later, we pulled up to the
gate only to find out that the races were canceled.  Aha!  That
would explain why everybody was turning around.  I muttered a very
British oath, and then we decided to head for Novato and have lunch
instead.  The most interesting thing we could find was a Starbucks,
so coffee and croissants were the fare.

We sat and talked for an hour and a half, and eventually decided
that the weather forecasters had lied, and it wasn't going to clear
up.  We suited up, pulled on nearly identical Triumph rainsuits
(mine yellow, his black) and hopped on the twin bikes.

We headed back for the freeway with me in the lead, and got into
the left turn lane to get back on 101, and the next thing I knew
I was on the ground with my beautiful Booh sliding down the road
in front of me.  Damn damn damn and merde too.  I hopped up, Paul
stopped behind me, we got the bike up, and I did a quick damage
assessment.

Me:  Fine, except the middle finger of my right hand is sore.  But
it just feels annoyed, not really injured.

Bike:  The left fairing is pretty scraped up.  The left pannier is
on the road about 10' behind the bike.  And the shift lever is
bent enough that it would hit the linkage if I tried to shift.  We
headed to the nearest gas station and attempted repair.

Sadly, it was a gas station and not a service station, and we
couldn't get the lever bent back into shape.  Paul, a real trooper,
headed off in search of a vise, while I stayed behind and iced down
my hand.  He returned quickly, and we got the bike together, bent
the luggage latches back into usable condition, and secured the
bags with duct tape as insurance.  And off we went.

He took the next exit, and I continued south toward San Francisco.
About ten miles later I looked down and saw a light glowing on the
dash.   Argh!  What's broken now?  Ah, nothing, it was only the
fuel light.  I decided that it wasn't a good time to push my luck,
and stopped for gas at the next exit.  At that point, I discovered
that every credit card in my name was sitting on my desk at home.
I hoped they were, at least, 'cause they sure weren't in my purse.
Fortunately, I never leave home without a few hundred dollars (you
never know when a poker game might break out), so that was just an
annoyance.  I did manage to remember that I'd left my glasses in
the bathroom before I'd ridden off without them.

So I headed back over the golden gate bridge, and watched not one,
not two, but three idiot drivers in SUVs attempt to take lanes that
were otherwise occupied.  Two of them were right in front of me,
and the third one tried for my lane.  But I was in hyper-defensive
mode, and had plenty of space to avoid all of them, so the only
thing left was to call them nasty names in Greek.  What is it with
these people?  Do they think that since they're big and invulnerable,
they can just take whatever space they want?  Are people required
to get lobotomies when they buy SUVs?  Sheesh.

All the way home, I found myself looking at every lane stripe, road
marking, botts dot, bridge grating, and manhole cover with the wary
eye of someone who has been tricked once, and isn't going to fall
for it again.  If you'll pardon the pun.

The rest of the ride home was uneventful.  Well, except for three
pedestrians who all decided to walk right in front of me, and all
within the space of two blocks.  I think they all must've been on
their way back to their SUVs.

What a day... I can't remember the last time I had cause to swear in
that many languages, all before 3 p.m.  But I guess it could have been
much worse.


Many many thanks to Paul for all his help.  What a champ!

- -Patti
and a broken Booh

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