Bob's Easy Rider Motorcycles

I was motoring along southbound on a four-lane Oregon road, barely overtaking another motorcyclist who I'd first seen over a quarter-mile ahead of me. By now the distance had shrunk by about two-thirds and, even over the wind noise I could tell from the considerable rumble that he was riding a big twin. I was still a few hundred feet behind when he gradually overtook a van towing a big house trailer. This rider had been favoring the right side of the lane, and when he got right up behind the trailer, he made a quick flick into the left lane, again on the right side, close to the van-trailer. It was going almost as fast as we were, and I could hear that he didn't accelerate when he drew alongside of it. He had probably been in passing position for almost a minute when the van-trailer signaled, then began to move over (a deer carcass lay in the road ahead). The rider apparently didn't see the signal and didn't react until the vehicle began crowding him. Then he pulled ahead next to the driver and gestured angrily. I saw the brake lights on the trailer, then the bike, illuminate, as the rider apparently tried to stay next to the vehicle as it braked. But the driver still had the obstacle to avoid and continued to move over while trying to brake to get behind the bike. The rider wanted to express his anger though and didn't get out of the way until he was finally on the shoulder, and both he and the other vehicle had slowed to less than 30 mph, and I'd had to brake to stay clear.

It could be that my favorite thing about motorcycles is the way they turn, leaning over to balance all the forces involved in making a single-track vehicle change directions and go right where you want it. Even after doing it hundreds of thousands of times, it's still exciting and challenging. I'm also sure that there haven't been more than a handful of times that I arrived at the entry to a corner and entered it just perfectly, with exactly the right amount of handlebar pressure, body English, throttle opening and lean angle to deliver me to the ideal point at the apex of the turn without minute adjustments. You virtually always have to make some sort of adjustment as you commit. However, to keep all those forces balanced, you can't make any violent changes or you'll quickly find yourself flat side down.

I was motoring along southbound on a four-lane Oregon road, barely overtaking another motorcyclist who I'd first seen over a quarter-mile ahead of me. By now the distance had shrunk by about two-thirds and, even over the wind noise I could tell from the considerable rumble that he was riding a big twin. I was still a few hundred feet behind when he gradually overtook a van towing a big house trailer. This rider had been favoring the right side of the lane, and when he got right up behind the trailer, he made a quick flick into the left lane, again on the right side, close to the van-trailer. It was going almost as fast as we were, and I could hear that he didn't accelerate when he drew alongside of it. He had probably been in passing position for almost a minute when the van-trailer signaled, then began to move over (a deer carcass lay in the road ahead). The rider apparently didn't see the signal and didn't react until the vehicle began crowding him. Then he pulled ahead next to the driver and gestured angrily. I saw the brake lights on the trailer, then the bike, illuminate, as the rider apparently tried to stay next to the vehicle. But the driver still had the obstacle to avoid and continued to move over while trying to brake behind the bike. The rider wanted to express his anger though and didn't get out of the way until he was finally on the shoulder, and both he and the other vehicle had slowed to less than 30 mph, and I'd had to brake to stay clear.