My first long trip on a
motorcycle was from
Boston to
New York
City for the
Art of the Motorcycle show at the
Guggenheim Museum. A group of
us had arranged to meet in White Plains for dinner the evening prior. I had
managed to
negotiate the
Merritt Parkway. It's a
fast road, 2 lanes each
way, usually moving a steady 65+ which can be a little
hairy, still I prefer
it over
I-95 which I find has less skillful drivers than the
daily commuters who use the Merritt.
Having gotten onto I-287 I quickly encountered the expected rush hour traffic
jam, and promptly learned one of my first hard lessons in riding. Being a little
tired, and no longer having the continuous stimulus, I lost focus on
what I was doing and promptly failed to note when the van in front of me
stopped, I braked too late and wound up dropping the bike. Luckily the impact
was minor, some damage to the headlamp shell, and slightly bent handlebars
and footpeg.
I made it ok to the Lamplighter Inn (I recommend their "chernobyl" rated
buffalo wings), drank water and enjoyed the stories of the group that
assembled over the next few hours. We all had a fine time the
next day.