The Black Beast

Or

Why I Don't Ride Motorcycles

by Dave Estep


August, 1977, San Diego

Becky walked into the Microprocessor Lab and stood in front of the wire-wrap bench staring quietly at me as I check a prototype board for a few seconds before talking.  She breaks the silence by asking me a question, "Do you know how to ride a motorcycle?"  "Sure," I reply. "Why do you ask?"

"My boyfriend was arrested last night and someone needs to ride his motorcycle from where he was arrested to the house.  Do you mind?"  "No problem.  When do you want to do this," I ask.  "During lunch, if it is okay," she smiles.


"What kind of motorcycle is it," I ask, while twisting the wire
around a pin with the electric wire-wrap machine.  "It's a Triumph 650.  You know how to ride one of those don't you?"  "Sure, I'll meet you down stairs in the parking lot at lunch," I reply, and return my attention to the wire-wrap board.
"Thanks a lot, I wasn't sure if anyone would do it," she says, patting me on the shoulder as she walks out. 

Standing in the basement parking lot of Computer Sciences Corporation, I smoked a cigarette while waiting for Becky.  Soon after, she drives up in her little Subaru pickup thingy and off we go to pick up the motorcycle.


As we arrive in the parking lot of a nearby pool hall, I see a black and chrome Triumph 650 parked along the side of the small brick building.  I climb out of the Subaru and approach the gleaming black bike, and immediately throw my leg over it and straighten it upright while straddling it.  "Do you have the keys," I ask, as I familiarize myself with the controls.


I turn the key and immediately it comes alive, rumbling and vibrating.  I blip the throttle a couple of times, as I push the kickstand back.  I walk the bike backwards and pull the clutch control, while finding first with the toe of my shoe.


I pull away cautiously, finding the clutch twitchy as the bike and I cross the road and accelerate toward the main intersection.  At this time of day, and during lunchtime, the traffic in this part of San Diego is very dense.  The street has three lanes in both directions, moving at forty-five miles per hour.

I blip the throttle several times for no damn reason, irritating everyone at the intersection.  (This is the first rule of operation, in the owner's manual, under
motorcycle operating instructions).


Sinister gremlins began their destructive work underneath me.  First, the throttle return spring was broken and secondly the clutch cable was binding, causing the clutch to engage at different points and making it difficult to engage.


I was in front of the right lane at the light, when on the fifth or sixth throttle blip, the throttle stayed wide open and like an idiot, I relaxed my hand on the clutch, just a little bit, and the clutch dumped.


Within about a half of a second the angry black steed stood on its rear tire, growling at full throttle while I held onto it.  The traffic going east and west was congested with lunch traffic, as Dave and the 650 breached the six lanes of traffic on one wheel. 

 

I held onto the bars for dear life, with my body flapping in the wind like a flag.  I went across that intersection in the middle of that traffic without hitting one car.  I mustered the strength to move against the g-forces to twist the throttle to idle.  The front wheel returned to the pavement, as I fell across the tank and seat in a prone position.


I applied the brake and came to a stop.  I rolled off the bike and stood looking back at the moving stream of traffic, as I sat it on its kickstand.  During that whole experience, the cross traffic didn't even slow down.  I couldn't believe that no one hit me when I crossed that street.


"You @%#!, you tried to kill me," I said, looking at the bike as I walked around it several times, wondering if I should leave it beside the curb and walk back on foot.  I sat on the grass near the curb for a few minutes, gathering my courage to climb back on and drive another thirty-five miles on that evil black and chrome death wish. (At least it would be freeway miles).

 

Not allowing this black horse to throw me mentally, I climb back on and continue under caution toward the freeway on-ramp.  I arrived about a half an hour later at Becky and John's house and turned off the beast and dismounted.  I stood there, with the wrinkles in my face pushed behind my head, my hair stood straight back frozen in position, my skin felt sand blasted and my lips stuck to my dry teeth in a semi-permanent smile as my body still vibrated several minutes after.


"John said thanks and that you can borrow the bike anytime you want to go riding," she said smiling.  I looked at her like she was crazy and quietly replied, "I've had about all the motorcycle riding I can stand."

To this day, I remain a four-wheel kind of guy. 

 

 

Last Modified:   12/30/2010

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