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.

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