Fig

I believe this story speaks for the motorcycle community in general. So here's something I may have only told about 2 people in my life that this ever happened. I am riding up to Laguna Seca in 2002. It's the year I met LTL, Racercutie, Deez, and NinerPilot(?) and his Dad at Dan Kyle's shop, Cannery Row, and Bubba Gump's. Now I was headed up to do some track photography so I had a backpack, and a tank bag full of gear. By gear, I mean two Canon DSLR bodies, various lenses, including my 70-200 2.8L, and assorted goodies like batteries, chargers, camcorder, digital wallet. Everything I needed plus clothes, GPS, etc. I think I am making the point. My tank bag was topped out, and my backpack was bungied to the passenger seat. With my leathers I needed ninja skills (not a pun since I was on my 929) just to get my leg over the bike.

I woke up early that morning, prepped the bike, checked my route, and headed off on the 101 fwy. Somewhere before Santa Barbara on the 101, a guy pulls up alongside me on a SV650. "Nice bike" I say to myself, and we end up cruising along through Santa Barbara and quite a ways down the 101. We end up needing gas about the same time, so he takes an exit, and I follow. We stop at the station, and he takes off his helmet, and it looks for all intents and purposes like Moses rides a Suzuki. I wasn't going to ask his age, but I was assuming it was getting up there. He looked quite old, but not in a bad way. Whatever he had done he had aged gracefully. I just wasn't expecting to see someone that age underneath the helmet. As the pumps ran, we exchanged pleasantries. We filled up our tanks, and he stated he needed a coffee. It was early, and I figured I could use something myself. There just so happened to be a cafe right next to the gas station, so we moved the bikes over, went in and got a table. We started chatting, and turns out were both headed in the same direction with the same intent. WSB at Laguna Seca. Shouldn't have been a shock, the exodus of bikes from SoCal heading north that weekend is nothing short of a charity run benefiting downtrodden infants, and/or breast cancer. Everyone loves infants and breasts to the extent of fashioning a ride out of their love. Back to the story. We started discussing routes, and for me, it was a first time up north for me, so I was planning on hitting the 101 the whole way, and just getting there. At that point my ride was about to veer off from a simply transversing from A-B to taking in some of the most beautiful sights this country has to offer. He mentioned taking the 1 up, and riding up through Big Sur. I was a little hesitant, as I had to check in at the Media Center by a certain time, or I wouldn't be seeing any racing. He insisted. Now I am not a big adventure nut, and I started out the trip on a mission. Changing midstream was hard to do, but I decided it would be worth it. I was also convinced I had plenty of time to make check in. After a few minutes I still had a nagging sensation and decided to announce my intention to stay on the 101 for the duration. I wasn't going to ride the 1 up. My new friend was a little bummed, but hey it wasn't going to stop him, and besides we knew each other all of about 100 miles, and a cup of coffee. No harm no foul. We both mounted up and headed off down the 101.

So somewhere around San Luis Obispo the signs to the 1 appeared, and my mind began wandering as it does so frequently. About that time, he pulled up next to me, gave me a wave and started to head for the exit. Making the decision so last minute I almost missed the exit completely, I decided to continue following him and take a trip. "What the hell" was my first thought. It's not like I really have to be so damn uptight. Live a little. So I somehow managed to get off the exit without wiping out, cutting off any cars, or nailing a guardrail. A few lights up the road we come to a stop and he hollers out "So you decided to join me, eh?" I nodded approvingly, and we again headed off.

Not too much farther we decided to stop for another break. The road had started to wind, but not too much, and traffic was picking up. We chatted about our bikes, and he asked me some questions about my bike. I returned the banter and quizzed him on his 650. We were both happy with our bikes and content in our choices. For some reason I then blurted out "want to try mine out?" "Why not?" as said as he shrugged his shoulders. We went to head out again and I walked over to his bike, and he over to mine. We mounted up, turned on the keys, fired up the bikes, got a cursory feel, and pulled back onto the road. It was a gorgeous day, I was getting a feel of the SV650. Nice bike, more upright feel, good power, and then it hit me. I am riding someone's bike and I don't even know his name. I also quickly occurred to me that he is sitting on my 929 with not only all of my camera gear, all of my clothes, and my wallet and checkbooks, but worse, my cell phone. I don't know if he saw how wide my eyes got, but you would have thought I was witnessing my own head on collision with a Mack truck. I am sure the smoked shield kept him from seeing the look on my face. I don't know why I hadn't realized it before, but a million thoughts started running through my head. If he took off, would I be able to keep up? How would I call the police? Was his bike really his? Would I end up calling the cops, trying to explain how someone stole my bike, and everything I own, while I was sitting on a stolen bike myself. That scenario plays out daily on the TV show Cops. Someone sitting in a stolen vehicle explaining that they were given the vehicle by a friend who told them they could ride it, but for some reason, they don't know the name of the "friend". Holy shit, there I was. I didn't even have any id on me. It wasn't looking good for my mind. The thoughts kept coming, and they weren't good ones. I had to fight it though and I had to pull that trust from deep down that this nice old man wouldn't do anything stupid. We rode quite a way down the road, and I tried to distract my racing mind with the sights. It really was a beautiful ride. We switched lead a few times, and I gradually eased my mind. After about 20 or 30 miles he motioned to pull over. We stopped, got off and started chatting. He really enjoyed riding the 929, and I proclaimed the same about his bike. I never once mentioned the fear that had gone through my head. We agreed that if we were shopping for a second bike, we would both pick each others as top of the list. He insisted that we stop for lunch at a little place he knew by San Simeon. I told him that I would follow him, and we again proceeded down the highway.

I was a little more comfortable after mounting my bike again, and actually had a wave of relief come over me. I followed him into San Simeon and we stopped for lunch. At this point we exchanged names, and I remembered it like it was written in front of me for years now, but as of this writing, I have since forgotten it. He was a really nice old man who turned out to be in his upper 80's. We talked over lunch about bikes, work, and the upcoming races. When it came time to leave, he insisted he pick up the tab. I told him I would pick it up the next time. We again mounted our bikes and headed for Monterey. When we got to town, we ended up at an intersection. I was turning right, and he was continuing straight. We looked at each other, gave a short wave, and headed off in our own direction.

It was a trip I will never forget for many reasons. If you are out there old friend, I owe you lunch.
Fig

G-ForceJunkie

Often, its the people you meet along the way that makes the journey great Great story.

Pete

Awesome story, Fig! Thanks for sharing!

SerialThriller

Thanks for sharing that! You can tell this next time someone asks you why you ride a motorcycle.

ONEvcs

Cool!!! Thanks for sharing.

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NanoSfere

Great story!!!

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CBRVFR

Great story, nicvely written Fig!

And if you just feel the universe won't be in balance unless you buy lunch for an old guy with an SV...

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HondaGalToo

Great story, Fig! One of the great things about motorcycling!

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quick26

nice write up.

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ND4SPD

Awesome story Fig... The guy was in his upper 80's and could still mount an SV??

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Heavy-Dee

We met?

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smoothrideronli

Good story...although I thought it was going to go Brokeback for a while...

Fig

I thought it was you. Might have been someone else. Digging deep, and doing a little research, it might have been NinerPilot. I remember his real name. I'll go back and correct the story.