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tugrikJust because my lunch only takes about 60 seconds to eat nowadays doesn't mean I want to give up my lunch hour. I had to drop something off at the post office but that only takes about 10 minutes, so I figured I'd go riding for a while. I don't get many lunchtime rides of any length, so it was a good break.
I took the GS out on the Hicks loop, figuring it was about the right distance to get me back to the office within the hour. I always enjoy that route and tend to turn it into a bit of a 'speed run'. The smoke from the Uvas fire was heavy, but in a way it really made everything look nice. The higher altitude smoke-clouds made for an oddly filtered light, reminding me a little more of fall weather like I remember from Michigan. I paid for it later, though -- as when I got to the office my eyes were red and I smelled like woodsmoke all over.
Turning from Hicks on to Shannon Road, I picked up the pace a bit. Shannon is a nice bounce over Cherry Hill into the back side of Los Gatos; it's one of the alternate routes I take to work in the morning. The speed limit on this road is terribly posted if at all. If I had to guess it'd probably be around 30-35 tops. It's not that it's a complex road or anything -- it just has residential areas here and there on it that warrant slower pace. The issue is that it's also one of the 'speed runs' that's well known for the cops not keeping an eye on and fills with motorcyclers and sports-car enthusiasts alike. I was no exception, leaning over hard as I came up to the intersection of Kennedy Road. Oh, hey... why are there a bunch of cars parked off in the trees ... ?
Whups. Two cop cars, two cop motorcycles. In the center of the road, squatting down and pointing a radar gun like it was a grenade launcher, was one of the motorcycle officers. It's hard to speed-tag a bike on a twisty road. I'd hoped that my sudden slowdown before cresting into his view plus the difficulty of the read would help. His partner on the side of the road motioned me over nonetheless. Drat. As I rolled to a stop I saw I wasn't alone: a lexus, a lincoln navigator, and another 1150GS motorbike were there already, being talked to by other officers. Okay, we have an Official Speed Trap. Wheee.
The officer I rolled up to asked me to shut off the engine. He waved the other GS rider over, pointing down the road to send him on his way. The fellow instead rolled up next to my bike (much to the cop's annoyance) and said one word -- which I recognized as his handle on the ADVRider board. Us GS folks stick together! I said "Tugrik." back to him, we grinned, and he rolled on out. The cop said "ooookay..." looking after the leaving rider, then asked me how fast I thought I was going. I answered honestly.
"I don't know, sir. I was paying too close of attention to the curve and the asphalt condition to keep an eye on the speedo. This road gets a lot of debris and takes a lot of attention."
He seemed to lighten up a bit. "We couldn't get a radar lock on you long enough to hold, but I'm pretty sure I saw a 45 or higher on it." He didn't tell me what the speed limit was supposed to be, just how fast he thought I was going. "By all rights I should write you a ticket like I did these cars and your biker-friend there... but at least you were being careful. I take it you know this road well?"
I explained to him it was one of my usual commute routes, and how it was both very change-prone and had a lot of idiot teenager-class drivers. This time I remembered to shut up before my mouth got me in trouble; a problem I have when chatting with authority. The timing worked well, as the officer went into what sounded like a speech he'd given all day. He pointed out the broken fence behind us, and a huge gouge in the soil wall farther up the road. He told me some teenager had been driving stupid-fast in a sportscar, had hit that wall, careened across the road through the fence, flipped, and died. It was very graphically evident, as the place he had me stopped were the sideways tire-marks in the dirt. Eeeg.
This turned into a little 5-minute talk about being careful on this road, and a little debate between him and me about if I could have seen the kid coming and avoided it, fast OR slow. The kid had crossed the road at a blind curve, and I was of the opinion it wouldn't have mattered if I was doing 100 or if I was walking on the side of the road -- either way one couldn't have seen the car coming. The debate was respectful, and the officer treated me with much more respect than I've ever been treated by a bay-area policeman. I appreciated that. I have to wonder how much of that respect was due to him being a motorcycle officer talking to a fellow motorcyclist. Chat and debate over, he sent me on my way. The way he ended the convo really made me grin. "I know you're just having fun, but be safe about it, okay? Riding strong is fine, just don't be out playing the road. I gave the other biker you saw a ticket because he _was_ playing. You handle the bike well -- so keep riding well, okay? I don't want to see you splattered on the next idiot car jumping lanes out here."
The drivers of the other two cars, standing there getting their tickets, were reall pissed looking. They were waiting for their tickets to be finished filling out... and here I was, leaving without even a license/registration check! I'm glad for the tinted shield on my visor; it help cut down on the dagger-stares. :) Now I'm back at work, and I think I'll go log onto the ADVRider board and see if the other fella has checked in. :)
I took the GS out on the Hicks loop, figuring it was about the right distance to get me back to the office within the hour. I always enjoy that route and tend to turn it into a bit of a 'speed run'. The smoke from the Uvas fire was heavy, but in a way it really made everything look nice. The higher altitude smoke-clouds made for an oddly filtered light, reminding me a little more of fall weather like I remember from Michigan. I paid for it later, though -- as when I got to the office my eyes were red and I smelled like woodsmoke all over.
Turning from Hicks on to Shannon Road, I picked up the pace a bit. Shannon is a nice bounce over Cherry Hill into the back side of Los Gatos; it's one of the alternate routes I take to work in the morning. The speed limit on this road is terribly posted if at all. If I had to guess it'd probably be around 30-35 tops. It's not that it's a complex road or anything -- it just has residential areas here and there on it that warrant slower pace. The issue is that it's also one of the 'speed runs' that's well known for the cops not keeping an eye on and fills with motorcyclers and sports-car enthusiasts alike. I was no exception, leaning over hard as I came up to the intersection of Kennedy Road. Oh, hey... why are there a bunch of cars parked off in the trees ... ?
Whups. Two cop cars, two cop motorcycles. In the center of the road, squatting down and pointing a radar gun like it was a grenade launcher, was one of the motorcycle officers. It's hard to speed-tag a bike on a twisty road. I'd hoped that my sudden slowdown before cresting into his view plus the difficulty of the read would help. His partner on the side of the road motioned me over nonetheless. Drat. As I rolled to a stop I saw I wasn't alone: a lexus, a lincoln navigator, and another 1150GS motorbike were there already, being talked to by other officers. Okay, we have an Official Speed Trap. Wheee.
The officer I rolled up to asked me to shut off the engine. He waved the other GS rider over, pointing down the road to send him on his way. The fellow instead rolled up next to my bike (much to the cop's annoyance) and said one word -- which I recognized as his handle on the ADVRider board. Us GS folks stick together! I said "Tugrik." back to him, we grinned, and he rolled on out. The cop said "ooookay..." looking after the leaving rider, then asked me how fast I thought I was going. I answered honestly.
"I don't know, sir. I was paying too close of attention to the curve and the asphalt condition to keep an eye on the speedo. This road gets a lot of debris and takes a lot of attention."
He seemed to lighten up a bit. "We couldn't get a radar lock on you long enough to hold, but I'm pretty sure I saw a 45 or higher on it." He didn't tell me what the speed limit was supposed to be, just how fast he thought I was going. "By all rights I should write you a ticket like I did these cars and your biker-friend there... but at least you were being careful. I take it you know this road well?"
I explained to him it was one of my usual commute routes, and how it was both very change-prone and had a lot of idiot teenager-class drivers. This time I remembered to shut up before my mouth got me in trouble; a problem I have when chatting with authority. The timing worked well, as the officer went into what sounded like a speech he'd given all day. He pointed out the broken fence behind us, and a huge gouge in the soil wall farther up the road. He told me some teenager had been driving stupid-fast in a sportscar, had hit that wall, careened across the road through the fence, flipped, and died. It was very graphically evident, as the place he had me stopped were the sideways tire-marks in the dirt. Eeeg.
This turned into a little 5-minute talk about being careful on this road, and a little debate between him and me about if I could have seen the kid coming and avoided it, fast OR slow. The kid had crossed the road at a blind curve, and I was of the opinion it wouldn't have mattered if I was doing 100 or if I was walking on the side of the road -- either way one couldn't have seen the car coming. The debate was respectful, and the officer treated me with much more respect than I've ever been treated by a bay-area policeman. I appreciated that. I have to wonder how much of that respect was due to him being a motorcycle officer talking to a fellow motorcyclist. Chat and debate over, he sent me on my way. The way he ended the convo really made me grin. "I know you're just having fun, but be safe about it, okay? Riding strong is fine, just don't be out playing the road. I gave the other biker you saw a ticket because he _was_ playing. You handle the bike well -- so keep riding well, okay? I don't want to see you splattered on the next idiot car jumping lanes out here."
The drivers of the other two cars, standing there getting their tickets, were reall pissed looking. They were waiting for their tickets to be finished filling out... and here I was, leaving without even a license/registration check! I'm glad for the tinted shield on my visor; it help cut down on the dagger-stares. :) Now I'm back at work, and I think I'll go log onto the ADVRider board and see if the other fella has checked in. :)
