Spied three bad-ass looking govment’ helicopters landing at the airport this morning. Really tight formation. No doubt they were military pilots. Probably some 3-letter agency here to bother the street gangs. Them guys drink a lot of coffee. Maybe I’ll run into them so I can have some fun with um’. Ever walk up to a stranger and ask if they’re a FBI agent? Try it sometime.
Well the filthy bike got a new pair of shoes. Fine Italian rubber. A nice shinny pair of them thar’ Pie-rel-ez’z. I run Pirelli’s on my Ironhead with no complaints. But that old bucket of cast-iron is a different ride than a modern computer between your legs. So now I need to figure out what psi I like. If I stuck with the OEM tires I would know that. But changing brands means I’ve got to experiment. The plan is to run Buggie at 38, 41 & 36 psi. See which one corners the best and leave it there. Oh yea, I just named the bike ‘Buggie’. Ran it today at 38 psi but couldn’t tell much. It was so damn windy you had to fight to stay in your lane. Guess I’ll have to repeat that part of the experiment. The work never ends.
Why ‘Buggie’? Well it’s always covered in bugs. I just can’t bring myself to wash it. There’s something about the artistry of Ma’ Nature that Man can’t duplicate. The delicate patterns and designs they make on chrome are not to be fooled with. It’s the way ‘She’ wanted it. It’s not nice to fool with Mother Nature. There’s a reason She had that bug fly into my eye. Don’t know what it is and it pissed me off. But there’s still a reason. Plus it’s a wheeled conveyance used to get from point A to point B. Sometimes it’ll even get you back again. That’s close enough to the definition of a buggie for me. Now I just need to look under the frame and see what sex it is.