Day 3 – To Lincoln City
Ride. Eat. Sleep. Ride. Eat. Sleep. This is the dynamic of my current existence. And that’s not an exaggeration.
Despite having set the alarm for 6am, I don’t actually wake up until 7am. Nine hours of blissful, restful sleep is a wondrous thing. Read more…
Day 2 – To Mendocino
I woke up at 6am, got dressed, had breakfast, checked out, and got a cab to the motorcycle store that has been Alessandro’s temporary quarters for the last couple of weeks. According to the service manager, there was no real ‘smoking gun’ that they found. Read more…
Day 1 – To Monterey
So as it turns out, I suspect — once again — I spoke too soon. Raving about the service on one airplane only dooms you to regret every utterance once you get to the other plane. Of course, ‘once’ would be the operative word in that sentence. Read more…
Day 1 – Leaving Edmonton
Even after several years of riding a motorcycle, I continue to be astonished by the degree to which they are the great social equalizer. Ride a motorcycle, and quite literally anyone will come up to you and just start talking. And I do mean anybody. Read more…
Day 12 – Bust
The astute and alert reader will recognize that a narrative thread has been left dangling. They will be wondering what I meant when I mentioned that, starting the bike on Friday morning, the bike sounded louder and rougher than it usually did. Yes, I did mention it. I even spoke of it being an example of foreshadowing. Read more…
Day 11 – MotoGP – Race Day
Ah, how quickly we have to eat our words. Or more to the point, how quickly I have to eat mine.
Sunday is race day. This is, relatively speaking, a universal rule, hence the title of the iconic motorcycle racing movie ‘On any Sunday’. Once again, the day dawned awfully early as we crawled out of bed at 6:30am to get out to the track. Read more…
Day 10 – MotoGP – Qualifying
Saturday is the second day of the race weekend at Laguna Seca. But it’s the day where things start to get interesting. After spending Friday getting Dianne restored to a semblance of normal function, we managed to get her up at 6:30am on Saturday to get out to the raceway. Our theory was that getting there early, we’d beat the traffic and get some decent parking. Read more…
Day 9 – Riding The Corkscrew – Consequences
Finally turned onto the right road, I found myself in the lakebed proper (basically, the bottom of the track) and found a sign that helpfully said ‘OEM Parade Lap’. First time all day, mind you, but reassuring to know that the event was real and someone else besides myself was aware of it. Even better, I had two of the requisite three pieces of information. Read more…
Day 9 – Riding The Corkscrew – Anticipation
The thoughts passing through my head looked something like the following narrative: “Shit!” Followed by, “Well, I guess I’m screwed. There’s no way I’m going to get my registration and get back to the racetrack in time.” Pause. Longer pause. Resigned look at the bike. Read more…
Day 9 – Riding The Corkscrew – Prologue
We’ve had our tickets for MotoGP for several weeks now. As soon as they went on sale, we found the best seats that we could and made them ours. This year, we’re in a hospitality suite on Turn 4, and actually have parking nearby. This is a pleasant change from parking in the way back of a distant field and walking two miles into the race track itself. About a month ago, however, there was an email Read more…