It wasn't a race

This actualy happened to me back in 2009


I was headed home late one evening just about dark, dark enough for head lights but still light enough that some were running without lights. I had been down in Georgia to visit friends, about 350 miles round trip. I was tired (no sleep the night befor) and my lower back was killing me. Solo seat without the rear pad does that to me when i don't run the pad (no lumbar support). Anyway.

2A hwy is a 4 lane hwy divided by a strip of grass in the middle. As I rolled up to the redlight in the left lane I saw some kind of bike sitting there in the right lane. I eased up to a stop and looked over to check it out. A little fuck it was, all black and chrome, saddle bags, windsheild, I think 12 or 13 inch tires. It actualy looked pretty sharp. I leaned over and asked the guy what it was. He said it was a Cushman. I told him it was neater than shit, I liked it.

Now the fun starts.

From this redlight the hwy starts a up hill pull for about a half mile or so, and then down for another half mile or so then there's another redlight. The light changes and I roll off and in no hurry but wind first a little long. I hear my bike making a strange noise and just as I start to shift into second I cock my head to the right so I can pinpoint the noise, and theres the noise...the guy on the Cushman is running right beside me. Good, nothing wrong. I hit second and as I throttle up I still hear the cushman beside me so I cut my eyes over and sure enough there he is. So, I run second out a little futher to put some distance between me and this damn Cushman, and I'll be damn He was still off to my right. Fuck it, twist it and leave him behind. I could see him fading back in my mirrow. Now I started to laugh at myself. Here's what "I" pictured. Anyone looking on probly thought one of two things. First, this Cushman was one of my gang...roaddog...riding buddies, or I was racing him. Remember my lower back was hurting? Well when I was going up that incline I was leaned forward a bit to releive some pressure on my back, and in between gears I might of had my left hand on the tank. and it might have looked like I was racing this little shit. Thats the reason for twisting it and putting some distance between us. That and I'd never live it down...." oh I saw you and one of your gang", or "yeah he stayed with you there for a while, he must have missed a gear".

Wait it's not over.

I clear the top of the hill and am coming up on the redlight at the bottom. The light is red so I'm slowing down, fourth to third and I slide over to the right lane (I just feel safer in right lane at redlights) and it's about to turn green and I'm at the point of do I shift to second or wait and chug on thru in third?, right in the middle there, I'm sure we've all been there. The light changes and I chug on thru in third and start to build speed again. AS I do I see this bobbin light in my mirrow coming down the hill behind me, and he is coming on. This fucker passed me and I bet he was running 70 or 80 miles an hour. Just ahead was I-75 and the entrance ramp was up and to the right toward Atlanta. Well, I didn't hear him rolloff the throttle when he hit the ramp toward Atlanta, he just leaned it over real tight and with a wave of the hand to me he was gone. I half expected him to hot foot it going up that ramp. The guy could ride I'll give credit there. And he had a cool looking ride. He did give me a wave of the hand as he was hitting I-75. A little futher down the road I got to thinking, he did wave didn't he?, can't say I saw all five fingers.

I laughed all the way home. I could just picture him sitting around with 5 or 6 other Cushman buddies drinking a pop saying.."yeah I blowed that ol Harley away"

Shit that makes you laugh....at yourself.