Hit the (Long) Beach
Aug. 24th, 2002 12:18 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tugrikI put in two new icons... the GL1800 (shown here) and the GS (on an earlier post). When the post is something to do with a ride or motorcycle event of some kind, I'll prefix it with the icon for which bike I'm rambling about... that way folks who don't want to hear motorcycle stuff can see the pic and just skip over the entry.
It started poorly. A housemate of mine and I got into an argument. Without dredging up the wherefor's and whyto's, the brunt of the matter was that I walked away from the situation instead of escalating it... which they found unsatisfying enough to go make LJ posts about. Finding myself under attack in a public forum, the resulting defense and related angst keep me up until half past midnight, when I'd meant to be in bed by ten.
Four hours later, the alarm clock rings. Per usual, it's a Samuel L. Jackson quote, shouted rudely at me. Those do good for snapping me out of any possible remaining slumber.
Between falling back asleep multiple times and a few moments of following up on the previous night's unpleasantness, I don't get on the road until a quarter 'til seven... a full hour and a half after I'd hoped to. This trip is to go down to Bates to get the 2nd sizing done on my new riding suit, and I'm scheduled to be in there before their lunch hour. I leave them a message (nobody's in the office there yet) that I'll be late, and apologize for my new ETA of around 12-12:30.
The GL18 did it's thing beautifully. With the exception of a few 'eek-a-cop' moments, I made record time down there. Travel between my home and Bates' Long Beach office is 362 miles. Most of it is the California Audobahn (I-5), but the last 60 miles is the commuter hell known as I-405. Even with lanesplitting the entire way, a scary prospect on the big Hondapottamus GL, I didn't do much better than 30mph for the last 30 miles. The superfast 5 and superslow 405 add up to a pretty reasonable adherance to my ETA... showing up just before the noon hour.
The next two hours were spent with me in a half-sewn suit, with lose armor bits between the layers, as three nice ladies poked, prodded, yanked and shoved it around on me. They even went so far as to cut open a bunch of pre-made stitches, to try and find a different placement for a jacket seam. I kept wincing at the expensive-sounding shredding noises made as they went about their business.
I was concerned, prior to today, if I'd like the riding armor they were making. I was really afraid that the sheer $$ spent would come out with something looking like it'd been hacked together uncaringly, or utterly boring/bland. Many custom-made things for fat people are exactly that: made terribly, or made so plain-jane that it's pointless, usually with the excuse "be glad you can get it at all, fatso!". I can now assure you this was absolutely not the case.
This thing is beautiful, as riding-armor goes. I'm downright giddy about it. :)
They had to catch up with another appointment they'd already scheduled, so I ducked next-door for a second to grab a burger. I had arrived there surprisingly refreshed, so I figured I'd just drive straight back up instead of staying in a motel. This means I had to leave as soon as I could, so a planned luncheon with an online buddy (Zrath) had to be shelved for another day. I gave Zrath a call and offered my apologies for missing lunch.
The last half-hour at Bates was spent doing the little extra customizing bits. I'm having them put the reflective patches on the wrists and ankles, like Aerostitch does; I like the safety factor. I also made sure they weren't going to use that ugly yellow logo of theirs. While I'm proud to wear their Bates label, I wanted the grey-backdrop one instead, and they said they could do that. Yellow would stand out on that suit like a bananna-slug dropped on the shoulder... eeew. I also got sized for a pair of custom boots, to be possibly bought later (I'm now 'in the files' of their bootmaker, scary). I also discussed having a custom logo embroidered onto the suit, one that a friend did for me a few years ago that I'm still hoping to see the inks from. I pulled out the Nokia and showed them the pencil rough of it I have online; they said No Problem. They need to get the final inked version to get the price quoted. I'm unsure as of yet if I just want the logo on the shoulders, or if I want a bigger version on the back-center instead. As it stands now, the back is kind of blank:
All was thumbs-up, and so I got a few Bates stickers for my gear boxes (it's a cycle-racer thing -- collecting mfgr stickers of gear one uses to put on one's toolbox -- look at toolboxes at the racetracks on TV sometime), and hopped back on the bike. The grind up the 405 was worse than going down it. I finally just gave up on being polite and lane-split like a charging blue rhino... all I woulda needed was a horn on the bike's nose fairing. After about 4 miles of this, I noticed another biker hot on my tail... but never getting too close. I figured he was just using my 'wake' to lanesplit in, like Dusty did behind me on the Brag trip. I had this vague spidey-sense type of worry that it was a cop... but naah. If it was a cop, he would have pulled me over by now, right? Lanesplitting, while legal in CA, is only legal at the officer's judgement... and I'll be the first to admit I was being a blue terror on the road. I just wanted out of that dratted place.
For 10 miles, the mystery motorcycler follows me. All I can see in my mirrors is his silouhette and headlight. (It's hard to get a good view when 100% of your mental energies are put into weaving between cars with only an inch or so clearance, vehicle to vehicle. Lanesplitting isn't something I enjoy, but I can see how some bikers get a kick out of it. It definately makes you feel 100% Alive, just by sheer risk factor.) Finally I get shut down -- two big-rigs and an RV, side by side, across all three lanes... and sandwiched so close together I couldn't stick my arm between them, much less a motorcycle. I pulled in behind the RV, and made space for the other biker since I knew he'd be stopped by this too. He pulled right into the slot -- CHP motorcycle, uniform, badge, and all. I can't stand that terrible sinking feeling....
Traffic was literally stop and go... stopping enough to put both feet down and rest 10-15 seconds before moving another few hundred yards. I flipped up my visor to talk with the nice officer, fully expecting to hear the 'please pull over' talk start. What came out of his mouth floored me.
"I've never seen a Gold Wing split like that. Wow."
I kept my cool enough to respond in a normal-pitched voice, but only barely. For lack of any other response coming to mind, I handily incriminated myself. "Oh, thanks! I wasn't quite sure if lanesplitting across a dedicated carpool double-yellow was kosher or not. I figured you'd wave me down if it wasn't." Gaah. what was I THINKING? Evidently, I wasn't.
"You're on a motorcycle. You can lane split. Just don't hit anybody." He grinned at me as he said that. I think he knew how 'OhCrapOhCrapOhCrap' I felt just about then, and was amused. Luckily for me, traffic opened up enough to get the bikes through. He just nodded at me, and zipped on up the midlane, around the RV. I chose not to follow. It only took me about 10 miles of stop-and-go traffic for me to stop freaking out over it, and by then 405 had turned back into I-5, and the flow picked up.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful, luckily. The whole 'sore posterior' thing didn't hit until Kettleman city, which was about 2/3rds the way home. Either this means I'm getting more used to my goldwing's seat, or I'm getting a tougher hiney. The last trip to Oregon, saddle-soreness set in a few hundred miles sooner. I'm hoping someday I'll be able to do these 10 hour riding days without conern. Once more, the key to this is probably losing weight. Less weight on butt == less sore of a butt.
I'm jazzed about the new suit. It'll be 1-3 weeks before it's completed, and then they ship it to my parents in Oregon where there's no sales tax. I'll pick it up from them and give it a week to break in. If the fit is off at all, it'll be time for another 730mi "bun burner" down to Long Beach, as Bates said they'll re-adjust it for free, no worries. When I get the suit, I'll post pics. For now, I'm just glad to be kicking back in my own comfy room instead of a motel.
It started poorly. A housemate of mine and I got into an argument. Without dredging up the wherefor's and whyto's, the brunt of the matter was that I walked away from the situation instead of escalating it... which they found unsatisfying enough to go make LJ posts about. Finding myself under attack in a public forum, the resulting defense and related angst keep me up until half past midnight, when I'd meant to be in bed by ten.
Four hours later, the alarm clock rings. Per usual, it's a Samuel L. Jackson quote, shouted rudely at me. Those do good for snapping me out of any possible remaining slumber.
Between falling back asleep multiple times and a few moments of following up on the previous night's unpleasantness, I don't get on the road until a quarter 'til seven... a full hour and a half after I'd hoped to. This trip is to go down to Bates to get the 2nd sizing done on my new riding suit, and I'm scheduled to be in there before their lunch hour. I leave them a message (nobody's in the office there yet) that I'll be late, and apologize for my new ETA of around 12-12:30.
The GL18 did it's thing beautifully. With the exception of a few 'eek-a-cop' moments, I made record time down there. Travel between my home and Bates' Long Beach office is 362 miles. Most of it is the California Audobahn (I-5), but the last 60 miles is the commuter hell known as I-405. Even with lanesplitting the entire way, a scary prospect on the big Hondapottamus GL, I didn't do much better than 30mph for the last 30 miles. The superfast 5 and superslow 405 add up to a pretty reasonable adherance to my ETA... showing up just before the noon hour.
The next two hours were spent with me in a half-sewn suit, with lose armor bits between the layers, as three nice ladies poked, prodded, yanked and shoved it around on me. They even went so far as to cut open a bunch of pre-made stitches, to try and find a different placement for a jacket seam. I kept wincing at the expensive-sounding shredding noises made as they went about their business.
I was concerned, prior to today, if I'd like the riding armor they were making. I was really afraid that the sheer $$ spent would come out with something looking like it'd been hacked together uncaringly, or utterly boring/bland. Many custom-made things for fat people are exactly that: made terribly, or made so plain-jane that it's pointless, usually with the excuse "be glad you can get it at all, fatso!". I can now assure you this was absolutely not the case.
This thing is beautiful, as riding-armor goes. I'm downright giddy about it. :)
They had to catch up with another appointment they'd already scheduled, so I ducked next-door for a second to grab a burger. I had arrived there surprisingly refreshed, so I figured I'd just drive straight back up instead of staying in a motel. This means I had to leave as soon as I could, so a planned luncheon with an online buddy (Zrath) had to be shelved for another day. I gave Zrath a call and offered my apologies for missing lunch.
The last half-hour at Bates was spent doing the little extra customizing bits. I'm having them put the reflective patches on the wrists and ankles, like Aerostitch does; I like the safety factor. I also made sure they weren't going to use that ugly yellow logo of theirs. While I'm proud to wear their Bates label, I wanted the grey-backdrop one instead, and they said they could do that. Yellow would stand out on that suit like a bananna-slug dropped on the shoulder... eeew. I also got sized for a pair of custom boots, to be possibly bought later (I'm now 'in the files' of their bootmaker, scary). I also discussed having a custom logo embroidered onto the suit, one that a friend did for me a few years ago that I'm still hoping to see the inks from. I pulled out the Nokia and showed them the pencil rough of it I have online; they said No Problem. They need to get the final inked version to get the price quoted. I'm unsure as of yet if I just want the logo on the shoulders, or if I want a bigger version on the back-center instead. As it stands now, the back is kind of blank:
All was thumbs-up, and so I got a few Bates stickers for my gear boxes (it's a cycle-racer thing -- collecting mfgr stickers of gear one uses to put on one's toolbox -- look at toolboxes at the racetracks on TV sometime), and hopped back on the bike. The grind up the 405 was worse than going down it. I finally just gave up on being polite and lane-split like a charging blue rhino... all I woulda needed was a horn on the bike's nose fairing. After about 4 miles of this, I noticed another biker hot on my tail... but never getting too close. I figured he was just using my 'wake' to lanesplit in, like Dusty did behind me on the Brag trip. I had this vague spidey-sense type of worry that it was a cop... but naah. If it was a cop, he would have pulled me over by now, right? Lanesplitting, while legal in CA, is only legal at the officer's judgement... and I'll be the first to admit I was being a blue terror on the road. I just wanted out of that dratted place.
For 10 miles, the mystery motorcycler follows me. All I can see in my mirrors is his silouhette and headlight. (It's hard to get a good view when 100% of your mental energies are put into weaving between cars with only an inch or so clearance, vehicle to vehicle. Lanesplitting isn't something I enjoy, but I can see how some bikers get a kick out of it. It definately makes you feel 100% Alive, just by sheer risk factor.) Finally I get shut down -- two big-rigs and an RV, side by side, across all three lanes... and sandwiched so close together I couldn't stick my arm between them, much less a motorcycle. I pulled in behind the RV, and made space for the other biker since I knew he'd be stopped by this too. He pulled right into the slot -- CHP motorcycle, uniform, badge, and all. I can't stand that terrible sinking feeling....
Traffic was literally stop and go... stopping enough to put both feet down and rest 10-15 seconds before moving another few hundred yards. I flipped up my visor to talk with the nice officer, fully expecting to hear the 'please pull over' talk start. What came out of his mouth floored me.
"I've never seen a Gold Wing split like that. Wow."
I kept my cool enough to respond in a normal-pitched voice, but only barely. For lack of any other response coming to mind, I handily incriminated myself. "Oh, thanks! I wasn't quite sure if lanesplitting across a dedicated carpool double-yellow was kosher or not. I figured you'd wave me down if it wasn't." Gaah. what was I THINKING? Evidently, I wasn't.
"You're on a motorcycle. You can lane split. Just don't hit anybody." He grinned at me as he said that. I think he knew how 'OhCrapOhCrapOhCrap' I felt just about then, and was amused. Luckily for me, traffic opened up enough to get the bikes through. He just nodded at me, and zipped on up the midlane, around the RV. I chose not to follow. It only took me about 10 miles of stop-and-go traffic for me to stop freaking out over it, and by then 405 had turned back into I-5, and the flow picked up.
The rest of the trip home was uneventful, luckily. The whole 'sore posterior' thing didn't hit until Kettleman city, which was about 2/3rds the way home. Either this means I'm getting more used to my goldwing's seat, or I'm getting a tougher hiney. The last trip to Oregon, saddle-soreness set in a few hundred miles sooner. I'm hoping someday I'll be able to do these 10 hour riding days without conern. Once more, the key to this is probably losing weight. Less weight on butt == less sore of a butt.
I'm jazzed about the new suit. It'll be 1-3 weeks before it's completed, and then they ship it to my parents in Oregon where there's no sales tax. I'll pick it up from them and give it a week to break in. If the fit is off at all, it'll be time for another 730mi "bun burner" down to Long Beach, as Bates said they'll re-adjust it for free, no worries. When I get the suit, I'll post pics. For now, I'm just glad to be kicking back in my own comfy room instead of a motel.
