Quote:
Originally Posted by Ramone
Oizen I understand the grip with reality hitting you.
I had a 68 Cutlass that I had done a ton of work on and use to run down the backroads here in Oklahoma on my way to work and hit about 120ish and just float down the road.
Something about 2 tons of rolling steel, nice mellow exhaust note and the wind blowing on you makes you feel invicible. The old steel like that after 80 would float and drive really smooth.
The roads were little better than cattle trails.. ok maybe not that bad but pretty shitty and really fucking narrow. Came upon a truck one day and had to drop it hard to sub 50 or eat the ass of it.
Shortly after that experience and digging the seat out of my ass for a week, I quit speeding down the back roads. I then use to speed on the main highway but never more 10 over.
Bounce forward 10 years and your lucky to get me 5 over the speed limit. I just value the money I have in my pocket to stay in my pocket. Fuck the cops and fuck paying them my money.
|
I learned to drive in an old GMC farm truck around doing 90 most of the time down that same road. Makes one wonder...
na... that was more like 20 years ago but, I know all about that floating sensation in a big car down long back country dirt roads. I look at it this way now... I had all the speed demon fun that anyone should ever have and live to tell the tale.
I rarely speed in a car (unlike other folks in this board who's names are similar to Addy) mostly because my last speeding ticket cost me over $500 bones with court time too and I NEVER speed when I have someone else in the car, especially someone I love.
I might put my own life at risk but, I don't fuck around when I have passengers lives in my hands... then even when it's just me in the car... when I think about what their lives would be like without me... I naturally slow down to the speed limit and stay in the right lane except to pass.
I see other families on the road and I respect and relate to their lives in a way that I just feel like shit when I'm selfishly bombing around so I can save 45 seconds to 3 minutes on my drive in a commuting car.
A sportbike on the otherhand is designed to make the road it's bitch.
...that machine is howling like a predator when it smells the interstate and I still tend to let loose and ride it like I stole it when the road opens up.