When it comes to bikes, I tend to love the one I'm with.
Saturday, for example, I was "in the zone" on the FJR and having a blast. Smooth as silk, torque-surfing around the block. Perfect lines, Avon Storms exquisitely closing the gap between machine and road, no wind, birds in the trees, god in his heaven. Fabulous.
Sunday? I managed to sneak Mrs H's new Bandit out for a bit of a fang -- it was Mothers' Day, after all. Light, compliant, superbly set-up for the type of bike it is. Over the GTOD going flat-out and deliberately taking the long way round corners just so I could soak up the moment, taking corners at speeds I would have backed off on with the FJR. I think I gained some insights as to the appeal of Motarding. One could have lusted for more power and more punch from the engine, but that would then mean that the suspension set-up would have to be completely re-done. Which kind of negates the whole thing really. I guess deep down, my heart is still with the FJR, but that Bandit just reeks "FUN". Whoar!
"Standing on your mother's corpse you told me that you'd wait forever." [Bryan Adams: Summer of 69]
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