More about bikes

February 27, 2008 - Wednesday

When I get to heaven I hope to learn the name of my guardian angel - or angels, as the case may be. I'd like to know who's been working overtime, specifically these last five months. I've had more close calls on my bike than I can count or care to remember, and probably some over and above those that I didn't even recognize as such. There was one yesterday on the way to school which I shan't describe for fear of the story reaching Mom's ears - suffice to say it was another excercise in improving reflexes on my part and a guardian angel with a squished thumb on God's. The way home wasn't so much a close call as simple evidence of Providence. The weather yesterday was glorious, but when I walked out of school, it had turned. It was still warm, but raining kittens and puppies, and of course in February at 2220 hours it's been dark for a while. I dislike driving the autobahn at any time because it's boring and I'm a wind block, but at night in the rain behind a tinted visor, it's scary. There are only two situations when I'm glad to have a car in front of me, and last night was one of them. It was helpful to be able to follow the red lights through the rain. (The other situation will be on April 4. I hope that during the test I get stuck behind a granny who drives 10 km/h below the speed limit, so I have plenty of time to make sure I do everything right.) Yesterday Selim stopped by on his rented Hyosung 650 V-Twin, which he's riding while his racer is being serviced. The thing is retro ugly, the clutch grips way too late, the brakes aren't worth diddledy, and you sit in a very strange position that results in shoulder cramps after not too long. Basically it's his racer with the foot pegs moved forward, the handlebars moved up, and lacking some plastic. We had a great time criticizing the thing. Its redeeming feature: it'll be way easier for him to use during his obligatory 12 hours lessons. I still haven't learned to reliably kick start Florian's Husky. If he wants to take my Beastie to school tomorrow, I'll have to use his Tweety Bird. (Ah, whaddaya know, now I've nicknamed his Kawasaki too. The thing's exhaust twitters like a sparrow.)