After spending yesterday doing household chores that I have ignored for months, I decided this morning with coffee that I needed to pay attention to my new Bandit with more conviction than I had cleaning the mold out of the shower. So after a second cuppa joe and synapses jazzed, I donned my riding gear and rolled the bike out of the garage for a run through the twisties, something which I have done very little of with this bike.
It’s funny how after a while we get ready for a ride on auto-pilot. I had my ipod, iphone, camera in the tank bag before thinking anything about it. I had my purse–a girl’s gotta have her purse–and the liner to my jacket, just in case it was colder in the higher elevations, and a second set of unvented gloves. I gave the bike a quick once over and was off, still feeling a little gun shy with this big ol’ boy, like my first fumble so many years ago in the back seat of a convertible. This was the day, the day to see if I was Woman enough for this beast.
Now, the one thing that I did forget ended up being the one thing I desperately needed, the GPS. What ever was I thinking. I did discover that I not only use it for routing and finding myself, but, most importantly, seeing the road ahead. I have truly come to rely on this magical box to show me the twists and turns ahead. I am then allowed to travel more briskly and with less surprise unless someone is stopped in a blind/off-camber corner writing down a phone number… more about that later.
So, I was BLIND without my GPS in more ways than one, but persevere I did, all that with only one phone call to Gary, my navigational home system. And damn if it doesn’t work well!!
But all that’s later, right now, I was about gas and getting the heck outta Sacramento, post haste. I decided to try and find Pardee Dam, which always seems to elude me even with my GPS. I didn’t exactly get lost, but it was a creative route to say the least. The dam lookout was blowing like crazy, but I stopped for a photo and to chat with an old timer whose most invested query was “how fast does that thing go?”, to which I replied, “faster than I want”. I’m sure he was an undercover cop.
The Dam from the overlook