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Honcklefukker drove up to the house on Friday night, and we left Sat. morning, meeting Sneaky Pete in Albany. We arrived at the hotel in VA after a long fucking drive through some scary ass mountain pass at about 1:30.
Monday morning was rainy. Very rainy. I had it in my head that I would do the follow the leader session, then leave the bike in the trailer until it quit raining. As it turned out, that was not necessary; it quit raining almost as soon as we got there.
The morning was a huge rush due to the tech inspection, and the fact that I had no idea we had to drill and safety wire our oil fill caps. After a bit of rushing around and doing some ugly safety wiring (my thanks to Jaynnus for the use of her drill and a young lady I know only as Peter Kates's girlfriend for her help wiring) I got through tech. I never heard the announcement for the beginner group's first session, so I missed out on that. Degsy led Honcklefukker, Pete and I for a lap in the beginning of the next session (thanks Degs!), and after I stupidly followed him into the pits, it was open track for the next two days!
I suck at riding motorcycles. Seriously. I suppose I'm pretty safe and consistent, but I am a great big pussy, because I ride slow and never take any chances, and I am afraid to go any faster than 120. This first day that wasn't much of an issue, because my bike was running like a bag of smashed assholes; but after R7 fixed it, I was scared. I was glad I had installed the steering damper, which made the kink in the straight a lot less terrifying (before I put it on, the bike kept skating and being generally mean with its headshaking). But mostly, I kept freaking myself out by charging the corners, and basically riding like a retarded squid on speedballs.
I had a couple of instructors help me out, and they were always very helpful, but I kept having them tap their tailsection to follow, then blowing me off like a fat prom date.
I really enjoyed riding R7's motard - I never understood the whole motard thing until I rode one. Super light, with good pull and power, and generally just a riot to ride. I need one.
We left the track at about 7PM, and drove until about midnight, where we stopped in West Virginia. Thankfully, no one was ass raped - the hotel had good locks on the doors to keep the residents out.We left at 7 the next morning and arrived in Vermont at about 4:30, where we loaded the Kawasakis into Honcklefukker's pimpin truck, and those poor bastards began the additional 3 hour trip to Boston.
While they were doing that, I took a shower and nailed my wife.
The end.
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