Jobe
Puppy
- Joined
- Mar 15, 2015
- Messages
- 25
- Reaction score
- 3
- Bike
- Honda CRF-1000L Africa Twin
It was a nice day,
Went out for a chilled ride, it was July, and at some point I realized..
1: The sky was clear.
2: That dams got islands growing in it.
3: I always wanted to "upgrade" my NC700 at some stage, and the time has come.
Now, this is not some fools wishlist, oh no. Neither a daydream borne out of pure lust for the machine dreams was weaved for, but never acquired...
No this was a calculation started many, many moons ago when I paged through a magazine and saw an article involving a man(super?) and his xt500 and the empty quarter. A traveler of the world in far, unheard of places my imagination couldn't even fathom. A spark funneled by youth in the form of my very first "bike", looking at a faraway hill and one day I explored it with my very first "real" motorcycle... albeit an express.
Over the years this grew and my explorations got bolder, so did the rides. An old 125 became a 250, a 700 and on that lovely Saturday I decided it was time.
My dream motorcycle was always a GS 1200 BMW. I first saw this beasty during a Mountain biking tour, and please note this was before movie stars gave it their stamp of approval. It appealed to my reckless youth, the adventurer within and last to the sensible person my Dad always wished for me to be. And so, I started looking.
First there was three letters, the promise of things to come, the envy of every wrecked nerve behind a wheel on the N2 between Caledon and Somerset West on a Easter Sunday, GSA!!
Ready for everything, and can take on the squad of KFC warriors around every corner and spit them out like Sunday maggots in the Sudan for wich it was born! Except. Not.
Not one of those 1200 CC's could convince me. I just didn't like it. I don't know how this happened!! It was a disaster!! Misfortune fell from the heavens like manna on the Israelite horde in the only desert with no oil. Despair. Tempers where high, many a taxi quivered with fear. Woe became him.
But fear not, I was convinced this could not be it. No amount of self satisfaction (lack thereof) was going to stand between myself and this machine which will be named DESTINY!! No quarter shall be given!!
The search continued... A new hope.... Triple Black it said.... As those pesky brats sang.. Something wicked this way comes...A smile, aexcitement.. Hope..
Dashed on rocks against a cliff awash in a sea of misery, sooo pronounced that I might have picked up a violation, I don't want to talk about it. Sorry to the old lady I hope your tree recovers, and Yes I'm sure the mold will go away.. Don't ask, Don't tell.
Okay so there was a problem. As you can gather at this stage most irritatingly My heart wanted the BMW but my being, that which is my true self just didn't connect to it. I didn't like the ride, the size, the stupid bike just refused to grab me!! How the hell did my beast dare to not woo ME!! The rejection was absolute.
I was naturally over anything at this stage. Nothing would be good enough again. the grass was dead, no rain would fall on this parched earth which was my soul, the air... reeked. BEER LOST its TASTE!! wait...it is also GP...so maybe not all of that is my despair... except the air... that was my head...Right?
Fervor. It started again. A promise was made, I would go into this with an open mind. "It's white" my mind said, "the most opposite of triple black" echoed my heart. "It is smaller" said my heart, "but the smaller heart fits through the gap" replied my mind, "or is it a smaller target".. said my being... Wait, what? Okay that got weird.
Moving on... It was a Friday, I went in, I didn't know what to expect except that this would be different.
In 40 mins of pure childlike bliss my soul was revived. Raised from the styx, rescued from the jaws of Cerberus. After those 40 mins, he looked like something an Hilton heiress would feed in her bag. this was engineering, connected, vast. If it had a name it would be James Newell Osterberg. It would take you into flight and suck your fear out of your face and spit it at fair maidens, making it look like black labels in a freestate slum on boxing day, Happy. The soul of that inner toddler finding that joy which is a tricycle. Do you remember that first forbidden moment you had, the realization that you got away with it? well, this was nothing like that. This I could enjoy in public, legally! It was that good.
Yes I did it. And, since, I've been on and doing it almost every day! I can't stop. I would lie in bed and dream of doing it. I would sit at work and sneak of to go do it some more. I'm not ashamed, I'll admit it. I'm man enough to stand up for it. mr. Wilde said it. "The only way to get rid of temptation, is to yield to it.". And I will tell you the truth. THEY LIED! You won't lose feeling in your legs. You won't look weird with that goofy look on your face! But please, they didn't lie about going blind. At the very least put some goggles on. When you ride your Tiger!!
I DO.
Go give it a go, I know you want to.
Went out for a chilled ride, it was July, and at some point I realized..
1: The sky was clear.
2: That dams got islands growing in it.
3: I always wanted to "upgrade" my NC700 at some stage, and the time has come.
Now, this is not some fools wishlist, oh no. Neither a daydream borne out of pure lust for the machine dreams was weaved for, but never acquired...
No this was a calculation started many, many moons ago when I paged through a magazine and saw an article involving a man(super?) and his xt500 and the empty quarter. A traveler of the world in far, unheard of places my imagination couldn't even fathom. A spark funneled by youth in the form of my very first "bike", looking at a faraway hill and one day I explored it with my very first "real" motorcycle... albeit an express.
Over the years this grew and my explorations got bolder, so did the rides. An old 125 became a 250, a 700 and on that lovely Saturday I decided it was time.
My dream motorcycle was always a GS 1200 BMW. I first saw this beasty during a Mountain biking tour, and please note this was before movie stars gave it their stamp of approval. It appealed to my reckless youth, the adventurer within and last to the sensible person my Dad always wished for me to be. And so, I started looking.
First there was three letters, the promise of things to come, the envy of every wrecked nerve behind a wheel on the N2 between Caledon and Somerset West on a Easter Sunday, GSA!!
Ready for everything, and can take on the squad of KFC warriors around every corner and spit them out like Sunday maggots in the Sudan for wich it was born! Except. Not.
Not one of those 1200 CC's could convince me. I just didn't like it. I don't know how this happened!! It was a disaster!! Misfortune fell from the heavens like manna on the Israelite horde in the only desert with no oil. Despair. Tempers where high, many a taxi quivered with fear. Woe became him.
But fear not, I was convinced this could not be it. No amount of self satisfaction (lack thereof) was going to stand between myself and this machine which will be named DESTINY!! No quarter shall be given!!
The search continued... A new hope.... Triple Black it said.... As those pesky brats sang.. Something wicked this way comes...A smile, aexcitement.. Hope..
Dashed on rocks against a cliff awash in a sea of misery, sooo pronounced that I might have picked up a violation, I don't want to talk about it. Sorry to the old lady I hope your tree recovers, and Yes I'm sure the mold will go away.. Don't ask, Don't tell.
Okay so there was a problem. As you can gather at this stage most irritatingly My heart wanted the BMW but my being, that which is my true self just didn't connect to it. I didn't like the ride, the size, the stupid bike just refused to grab me!! How the hell did my beast dare to not woo ME!! The rejection was absolute.
I was naturally over anything at this stage. Nothing would be good enough again. the grass was dead, no rain would fall on this parched earth which was my soul, the air... reeked. BEER LOST its TASTE!! wait...it is also GP...so maybe not all of that is my despair... except the air... that was my head...Right?
Fervor. It started again. A promise was made, I would go into this with an open mind. "It's white" my mind said, "the most opposite of triple black" echoed my heart. "It is smaller" said my heart, "but the smaller heart fits through the gap" replied my mind, "or is it a smaller target".. said my being... Wait, what? Okay that got weird.
Moving on... It was a Friday, I went in, I didn't know what to expect except that this would be different.
In 40 mins of pure childlike bliss my soul was revived. Raised from the styx, rescued from the jaws of Cerberus. After those 40 mins, he looked like something an Hilton heiress would feed in her bag. this was engineering, connected, vast. If it had a name it would be James Newell Osterberg. It would take you into flight and suck your fear out of your face and spit it at fair maidens, making it look like black labels in a freestate slum on boxing day, Happy. The soul of that inner toddler finding that joy which is a tricycle. Do you remember that first forbidden moment you had, the realization that you got away with it? well, this was nothing like that. This I could enjoy in public, legally! It was that good.
Yes I did it. And, since, I've been on and doing it almost every day! I can't stop. I would lie in bed and dream of doing it. I would sit at work and sneak of to go do it some more. I'm not ashamed, I'll admit it. I'm man enough to stand up for it. mr. Wilde said it. "The only way to get rid of temptation, is to yield to it.". And I will tell you the truth. THEY LIED! You won't lose feeling in your legs. You won't look weird with that goofy look on your face! But please, they didn't lie about going blind. At the very least put some goggles on. When you ride your Tiger!!
I DO.
Go give it a go, I know you want to.
