That feeling:
Reminds you how very little inputs come from the hands on bars, all the while the body and bike are doing all the work to sort the corner. Every time I do it, I wonder will this be the time I spill her into the shoulder.

The balls of the feet braced heel weight forward light fine inputs with power to burn is an addictive feeling! I can't get enough of the whole chassis shimmying hard as she accelerates lifting the front wheel powerrrrrr UNGH!

To achieve balance between risk and safe, skill and temptation or in my case impulse control is the way of the street warrior.

As I tap the banner on the way out... My second ride with sabersubs drawn open. One bubble after the other. A black undercover, another bubble, and then another. I think they had lunch and now pair off? LOL. No matter, my impulse control is not even close to a risk.

Poor semi was dragging things along with load. Slow was his mode. I had time to sit and wait. Knew my passing zones. So laid back am I. Here comes the zone and how fast I came up on that semi? I see a dot that was a fat looking car creeping along behind me. I kept away from the semi and so was the car's gap from me now. After they caught wind of the light fandango.

I had that boy up and running. Must have been the first haul at him. He had that clear road ahead. That is why the R and I waited so far back. 'Ol truckie boy was hauling the speed limit and waiting to see my next move. I'm cracking down on gears as the dual lines begin to show passing lines. UP HIS ASS we climbed. Lift and looked as the neck took over dover it was over. I remained in the lift and as I inched back that became yards apart, there was one more crack at that 'ol semi whack.

When the doubles switched to that next passing lane, 'ol truckie was sizing up that gap ahead and me moving up so 5-4-3 is the gear. And as the neck took a goose of a gander, so did the throttle bite, so did the front tire met air with delight, then 4th was introduced for just a moment in time, and here is squid truckie all hugging the right line. He saw me again in that saber sight.

It was in the %*^'inn F-1 mode, not even a load. I lied. My saber was not all the way out. I just showed that 'ol semi do is how we do it to it... Get all assuming shit will happen. I showed my cards. I was in that impulse of control.

What cpowerful and thought provoking imagery your writing entices, Wolf. Nice stuff!

It was in the %*^'inn F-1 mode, not even a load. I lied. My saber was not all the way out. I just showed that 'ol semi do is how we do it to it... Get all assuming shit will happen. I showed my cards. I was in that impulse of control.

I love that shit. F-off straight rips like a mad fuckin bastard trying to constantly destroy my rear tire.
Can't get enough of that KWAK!

I dance on the "freeway" as birth gives to bloom and life hatches from the womb! Like stilletto heels, these lilly stems waft by as lamp posts start to rivet by like a metronome picking up cadence, in my mind. I crest the hill and the rolling four lane highway is like a blanket spilled across the landscape, like a fruit rollup under an iron I sort that candy asphalt in the recesses of my palm, the recess of my mind! And then I hear the bell call that snaps me from this moment and draws me to my lunch break. Pale in hand, I head for my bike to share a sandwich and a mutual wink! My purpose is to look at you, as an aging man looks at the plump thigh that sweats in the office chair next to him, calling me. In the same way, you have me at full attention. I pretend to look away, but really I'm scanning to insure I am not caught looking at my own bike, like Pavlov's dogs you make me salivate. I could pull a collapsible chair and spend the afternoon looking at you with tequila in my hand and the red head in my lap!

The next time the bell tolls the only thing that can separate us, is my throttle hand, and power band! These RPM's shall climb my brother, man's best friend, vortex blip to the end. I love you veridis only because you complete me in a way I complete you. And if you sat in my mate's hands you'd be relegated to 12000kms of tour duty and not your true purpose. My scalpel, my sword, my tail gun wing man at Mach Two. Oh how I love you, in only the way an organic can love the material! Today I rest to crest and rise, burn rubber, stalk and deny, others from their righteous pursuit of blistering speeds, a lullaby of whop, whop, whop as the light posts cradle my senses! We ride home, even if I am home when I straddle that saddle!

Punch a hole in the sky, and cut through traffic, what others see as a disturbed mad man on two wheels, is to me a tango in slow motion, melodic like chess, the pieces fall to my check mate. For I am the king, the knight the rook, the bishop, I strike with strategy and speed to dis member the white opponents on the checkered table of concrete. An ethereal dance, a meld of man, character, ride ethic and expression. Like an exclamation mark that violently smears the written page, I too become the assault on your senses.

For Sebastian and Green

* Last updated by: Wolfman on 9/18/2013 @ 4:48 AM *

Dude. Wow. I love it man. That lamppost snapping by, whop whop whop, faster and faster, the melt, the chair, the watch, the see, the feel. The silken rip. that unique intake howl filled creamy thrust. Veridis with her come hither looks...
She the green goddess
She the lady asleep on her side with that wicked thigh curve...
The warmth of her saddle.
Well. That's ur woman man. I'll stop there. There comes a day not too far from this one when we shall get these gals to dance together...

Thank you Wolfman!

That'SOME Shit RighThere, Wolfy!

"Organic is the Mechanic" and that touch of the material... Oh snap! I broke a bolt head off. Sheer asshit I admit it I did it. Tent Tickles is my squidly sea. Oh material me what do I see? Someone quick, slide me a pan under it!

The phuck did die due, oh whoa is me, can't you sea, an ocean of tan and man, hand me another can of it. This is too much, here hold your finger over the hole. Well, that stopped the leak. Now, I'm going to take this to the dealer and claim war an tea. So run along side me I don't lose a drop.

Hahahahahahahaha! We can just lay ya on a garage creeper, I'll go slow...
Promise! :)))

No need for the speedo I know I am cresting 260 when my helmet has no place to tuck and it gently begins to buffet. Like a torn tarp, the leather shielding my arms (where muscle atrophies leather) begin to oscillate violently. Like raising a flag at full gallop, my stead enters the glassy smooth zone at three hundred. My pant leg no ripples like a flag mounted to a formula 1 car. The helmet begins to find violent turbulence, the jacket begins to shift and raise to the helmet as air pockets become aerodynamic sails. I can't tell how fast I'm moving, my only inkling? The speedo needle fails to move and comes to rest just over 3 grand. Whot I am in a vortex, an aerodynamic foil, the force field made of force shield. It's relative with on lookers, as my inertia feels slow only to appear fast to those who stand at the side of the road, mouths agape, I pass 300, I am avvelerating I am Kpng!

* Last updated by: Wolfman on 9/18/2013 @ 4:22 PM *

Dude, even with a couple toots in ya, ya got mad skilz!

* Last updated by: Cblast on 9/19/2013 @ 7:32 AM *

Thanks bro, I was so drunk I don't remember even writing it - till I saw it this morning, that is! Hahahahaha! I get one drunken binge night a month. October here we come!

Excellent wasted wordsmithing my brother

To achieve balance between risk and safe, skill and temptation or in my case impulse control is the way of the street warrior.

As I tap the banner, out the door I go. I'm all about risk now. The temptation not to hammer this thing every second I'm on it. The one time I am not watching my [mirror] is who is going to be taken out up front?

I had to move quick. Cars were going to merge into my lane, lift or find a gap. Withouthinkingone was I could not believe the timing! The big rig I was passing was on my left bye now. I hammered past that truck: so my risk became so safe what was that?

Under the truck's wheels I see a motorcycle. A fast moving motorcycle. I was gaining on the motor officer like fly heading for an open door! I'm sure he may have seen a wheel, because I sure saw his.

You know how you watch a surfer come out of a curl, you think s/he got sucked in when the wave goes over h/er? I came out of that rig's front bumper and boy did I checkup! I'm sure he was watching some passing antics when he was coming down on me.

Continuing on, an old 2nd gen [pill looking] camaro with two big white racing stripes on the front of his red hood. Oh yeah, he had a V-8 in it. You could hear the exhaust. He may have seen me come down this bridge. It has a decreasing radius curve to it. It shoots you onto the fast lane too. So this camaro is all hot because I'm waiting for this truck to move.

The cam can't wait, moves to my right and passes me. Finally the truck moves over after the cam passes the truck too. The cam and I were coming down hard on this truck ahead. So as the cam passes the truck, the truck moves over, I take the tube and open it up.

I wish I had the wide lens rolling. When I passed the truck at the speed I was having to catch up to the cam with, his window was rolled down. I'm hugging to the left line because this curve aims to the right and is nice and fast you pound a few lanes over to clean it off.

The Look on this guy still lingers. The jaw that was dropping on his face. His neck turned to get a better look to see what the fuck was coming, his eyes ever so wide out that door.

Wolf, the adopted child of Hunter S Thompson and Timothy Leary

You make me laugh Hub. You're an absolute menace! I love it!

Freakin awesome hub!!!! Ya had me holding my breath on that camaro!!! The way this machine devours real estate is insane!!!

wolfman's ride brings sexual full... fill... ment

Hell yes Veridis does ALL of that WOLF!

* Last updated by: Cblast on 9/20/2013 @ 12:48 AM *

Why after every ride do we attempt to clean her and return her to a flawless state? What drives this obsession. I ride in the rain, plaster her with bugs, tar, flack? Why do I spend hours cleaning her, shining her up, only to cover her in grit again? There is pride of ownership, but I think it runs deeper. Me thinks it's the organic trying to be intimate with an inanimate object of desire! I think we associate the way we feel atop this stead with human like characteristics and thus as we care for friends and our women, we can't help but want them to look good, be well kept, like a sharpened pencil waiting to sketch on fine paper. We, like the military with fighter planes want our bikes combat ready and sparkling! Or is it some odd psychoanalytic transferred narcissism that we bestow on the motorcycle, as if somehow, the bike is a reflection of the rider atop the saddle, like showing off a trophy girlfriend, as chasing beautiful women may be selfish or boost our worth as we deliberately step out with her to be "seen!" Maybe it's far beyond all of these things, maybe we just want to take care of a beloved possession, maybe it is not anything greater than what our mom said about keeping our room clean. I don't just clean the bike, I clean the garage where she is kept so that, when in her spotless condition she has a clean place to lay her head! Now this may all be over the top, but how many of you can't get the image of a dirty bike out of your head and will go sleepless into 2am thinking bout her caked in mud. I don't know about you but my last thought before going to bed is my kids and bike and I awake with the same thoughts. God help us, warrior of plexus, blue ice, trox, mothers, and Fibre cloths liter my garage. Yet she glisens and I yurn to ride, and dred the post event clean.
W

Fuck, I was fing IN bed, about to take a nap. I read this. Now I ride. Hell yeah! Thanks wolf! HOWWWWWWWWWWWLLLL!!!!

I just came back from a double wax treatment. I am now DONE!!!

I know, I'm fling obsessed! Sunny all week next week. I am going to ride!!!

Getting stitches out Tuesday, then, I'm gone baby !!!

Can't wait Cara! Good luck bruz!
Whot!

Hell yeah Cara! Awesome news man!!!

Found some frickin fun in the rain!!!! Howwwwwwwwllllllll.....