To: WL From: "Kathy E. Gill" Subject: Day Two : Remedial Math 101 - Part Four Cc: Bcc: PE X-Attachments: Highway 128 cuts diagonally from the coast down to Cloverdale, on 101. It's about 65 miles. I keep having these "60 mile clumps" but no way can you ride any of them in an hour. Partially because of traffic, but more because of the turns. This is a scenic ride through wine country. I'm reminded of just how agricultural California's economy is. Even spot a dairy farm. My ValentineOne does a strange thing. Three or four times - All of the lights come on - and the audio is loud enough (or the right frequency) to get my attention through the tank bag and helmet. But it's not like the power on flashing; odd. I see no cop with radar. This road isn't 100% twisties - it's straights, then twisties, straights, then twisties. I'm amused that the BMW (still behind me) can't keep up with the monster truck (six wheeler) in front of me. ;-) Eventually the truck, and his buddy in front of him, pull over and let me pass. At one point - I think, "ok, I've had enough twisties today. I just want to make some time." But after the next straight interval, I'm grinning again as I enter the following set of turns. At Cloverdale, I stop for gas and another snack. More water for the camelbak. It's about 90 miles to SF. I get back on 101 about 7:15. I check to see if I can do the sunglasses-to-glasses switch; nope, still too bright. Traffic is moderately heavy and moving pretty fast. My indicated speed is 75-80 to keep up with the fast lane. No arguments from me. After ~30 minutes - I realize that I will soon need my heavier gloves, my non-tinted glasses and a working electric vest. I can't get the switch to turn on. I start looking for an easy-off, easy-on exit. Finally, I think - why not stop at a call box? That's what they're there for - emergency-type pull overs. I'm about 10 miles north of Petaluma. Time myself in traffic so I don't become a hazard and pull off to the far right edge. Those of you who know California roads *probably* know what's coming next. Turn off the bike and think, "I'm tired. I should put the sidestand down so there's one less thing I have to think about." WRONG. The road is seriously cambered - and since I'm tired, it takes me about two beats to realize that once I shift the bike sufficiently to the right to get the sidestand down, I will have passed the point at which I can hold her up under heavy load. SHIT! All I can do is try to slow the fall, onto basically dead grass and some gravel. Fuel is flowing out of the tank - I grab the tank bag off the ground - yank off my helmet and think, WTF. How can I get her upright with all this gear loaded? Before I can worry much, a very nice older gentleman stops to help me. Together, we right her with gear intact. He helps me get my stuff together and won't even walk back to his truck until I'm on the bike and she has fired up. Probably no more than 10 minutes has past. He deserves a Good Sam award! I stop a few exits down to top off the tank - I lost about a gallon on the ground. Am still a little shakey - nervous about keeping the bike balanced at the pump while I dismount. This nervousness will take a little while to wear off. It's here that I discover (was in shock, I guess, at the site) that the brake lever end broke off. Do a second visual inspection and see no other damages. No matching goose-egg on the right side of the tank ... these bars are much higher than the stock ones. I suppose I can now get the left goose-egg fixed - I was afraid fixing it would piss off the tip-over gods. With a drop each of the past two Monday's, that seems to have been wishful thinking. The rest of the trip is uneventful. The cross winds on approach to the Golden Gate don't seem any worse than those on I-90 or 520 across the Lake. Of course, these are on curves, but still. No wait at the toll booth - and I take 19th down to 280 to 380 to 101 to Sunnyvale. Arrive about 9:30. So - I left an hour later than Saturday - and arrived at my destination an hour later as well. The big difference, of course, is another 100+ miles as well as serious twisties (versus slab-slab-slab). As I said in post #1 - I don't believe I would have attempted this had I done the math right. I'm now pretty sure that somewhere along the way I failed to "carry a one" to the hundreds column. ;-) I'm grateful for the mistake. This is a day to treasure for a long time. Kathy still postponed