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On Saturday, I went for a little spin up to Madrid. After parking the 851 near the freight scale, I crossed the street to the Mad Hatter to get a cuppa tea. A grizzled voice from one of the outside tables greeted me: "Hey Ducati!" I had no idea who this person was. Inside the café, I was able to procure my tea after waiting for a family of four to decide upon, order, and receive their goods.
Back outside, I noticed that the other older fellow next to the one who addressed me was wearing riding clothes. I confirmed with him that he was riding the late model BMW R1200RS. Grizzled chimed in "The Ural is mine!" Sidecars always draw a crowd. Indeed as I pulled up, one man was taking a picture of his friend next to the Ural.
Beemer Guy says "It has two wheel drive." Grizzled added "It does great in the snow. You can take it anywhere. But getting used to riding with a sidecar—it's a whole different thing. First time I rode it from Albuquerque I didn't go past 35 mph the entire. Scared the s*** out of me." Maybe a sidecar will be just the thing when my knees finally implode.
Turns out that Grizzled had worked for FM Productions in SF, and so we shared stories of the Hell's Angels, Frisco Choppers, and the neighborhood between Potrero Hill and 3rd St known as Dogpatch. He moved away from SF right around the time I arrived there. It was going to be hard for him to kick his drug habit in the City, so he retired to some property he owned in Questa. Now he lives in Madrid.
Beemer had a Hell's Angel story too. On University Ave in Berkeley, he saw two Hell's Angels pull up to stoplight ahead of him traffic. One Angel forgot to put his foot down as he came to stop and tipped right over. The other Angel just took off when the light changed.
Posted by Underblog at April 6, 2008 8:20 PM
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