It's about 7:00 PM and I've almost completed my 7
hour, scenic ride to Calgary to visit family. I pull into a parking lot in
Banff to turn around, take a moment to park the bike and have a coffee break.
It's a restaurant parking lot and there are plenty
of people milling about. Happy families with wide-eyed kids ogling the spaceman
on a motorcycle.
I feel rested, it's time to get back on the road. I
parked nose-first in a space, so I walk the bike out into a nice starting
position. I know that I should put the side-stand down and do a proper mount,
but I'm smooth mr spaceman Jeff on his shiny motorcycle, so I just throw a leg
over.
I immediately discover that just throwing a leg
over was a mistake. The bike leans a little too much for comfort, and 613
pounds of motorcycle are leaning against the only leg I have planted on the
ground. I put my other foot down quickly, to give myself more stability, but
this pushes the bike further down. I feel the mass of the bike as it crosses
that threshold between vertical and horizontal.
I shifted my leg and braced myself as I gripped the
handlebars. I was not dropping this stupid bike while those damn kids were
watching me with their ‘ogling’ eyes. Every ounce of strength went into pulling
against the mass of that bike, and by sheer brute force I kept it from touching
the ground.
With a great heave, I pulled the bike upright, and
sat upon my seat of glory. I had battled the most fundamental forces of the
universe and come out victorious. The motorcycle gods had tested me, and I was
vindicated. The spectators did not see a man drop his motorcycle at a complete
stop today, nosiree. They saw a man wrestle a rebellious machine into
obedience. They saw a man in complete control of the world around him.
Then,
I proceeded to stall the engine pulling out of the parking lot…
