[no subject]

N-F remains a great road; tight, blind corners, bumps, dirt, one-lane so you
get reminded periodically of the importance of good lines by the oncoming
pickup truck loaded with hay.

All in all, big fun. We'd been passed on the base by a guy on a VFR; I set
out to chase him down until I had a reminder that drinking five Arnold
Palmers before riding away presents its own set of issues.

After the stop, I invited (nameless ST guy) to lead, since he'd been riding
right on me; he took off at a slightly faster pace, and I settled in behind
him, Mary-Anna rode her own smooth pace behind us.

(nameless ST guy) and I ride a very similar pace; he has a slightly
different style on N - F; he was riding more rounded lines and leaning more,
while I was squaring the corners off and rolling out on the engine torque.
He'd pick up half a bikelength going into the corner, and I'd get it back
coming out - it was fun for a while...

*SOMETHING I SEE ALL TOO OFTEN*

About halfway down the hill to Highway 1 (so about 4 - 5 miles up from
Highway One) we had a series of descending almost-switchbacks. They were
almost all off-camber, and in about the third or fourth one, a downhill,
tight, dirty, lefthander I watched him roll onto the gas and the bike just
slipped out from under him so fast that he hit the ground a moment after the
bike did. All of this happened so quickly that I couldn't even look away
quickly enough not to watch it.

His side bag popped off, and I dodged it and the spinning bike as I pulled
over and got stopped.

He was up and shutting down his bike before I got off my bike and I was
brushing him off and trying to get him to sit down for a minute when
Mary-Anna pulled up.

He was fine (Aerostich gear rules!!) and we got his bike picked up and off
the road.

His shift linkage was farked; the shifter bent and unmovable and the linkage
itself broken.

I went through my tool roll and Mary-Anna went through hers, and we couldn't
find anything that might make it work.

I'd brought the trailer hitch for the van, and tie-downs, so I suggested we
go get it, rent a trailer, and come back for the bike. He wasn't excited
about the prospect.

So, Plan B: use pliers to shift into second and ride it down the hill.

I remembered that folks have used small vice-grips as shift levers, and
resolved to buy some...

We zip-tied his side bag onto its bracket, and headed off down the hill.

After the smoking stopped (ST's on their left sides tend to get oil into the
airbox), the bike ran fine, and we made it down to Highway 1, where he
stopped and shifted into third.

I suggested he drop the bike at the hotel, and take mine to go home and get
his truck; he felt good and wanted to ride the whole way home.

So Mary-Anna took off to go help her dad, and we rode back up the one.

I rode with him off onto the 68 toward Salinas, and then turned off and went
back to the hotel.

He made it home OK; we talked, and I'm really sorry he binned - chalk up
another victim of the Danziger Force field.

Actually, the lesson was that a 'classic' style on dirty roads presents some
serious risks; too much sustained lean angle, adding power when you're
leaned over, etc. Just my $0.02...


Mrac

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