Bug Splats on a Saturday

Few things compare to the adrenaline rush that comes when you start up the engine of your two-wheeled friend and take to the pavement for a day of riding bliss. If it's been two months since the last opportunity to do this, the sweet sound of the engine revving is enough to give you goosebumps and get your heart thumping.

After a lengthy move southwards this summer, my Moto Guzzi 1100 S had been eyeing me with disdain as she sat idle in a carport. Each time I drove by her spot cramped between strange vehicles, I glanced over hoping that she was still upright- or even there. Several times I might have sworn she was gone, if only for a fraction of a second. My mind was playing tricks on me, showing me the glistening sun reflecting off her fire red coat one minute and a vague void of nothing the next.

Painted and parted meticulously in the foothills of the Italian Alps twelve years ago by someone named Mario or Iacopo or Vincenzo, surely, my Goose is nothing less than perfection. Not the kind of perfection that comes replete with shined up wheels, a greased up clutch and a purr. Sure she's got the Marchesini wheels and Brembo brakes, but she's no dream for a new rider (not far off from where I found myself when I first encountered the beast). Contessa- as I christened her from Day One- has always been rather on the demanding side, rumbling away as untidily kept things fall from precarious perches nearby. Her massive body weight of some 500 lbs. reminds you that this is not just any little sportie that can be knocked around. Weighing in at 125 lbs, I had to quickly adhere to a new doctrine: submit to the Guzzi because there simply is no other way. Her clutch requires the forearm strength of a sailor - the kind that would cuss and sport an anchor tattoo- which is enough to scare off most weekend riders or urban dwellers. Her throttle likes extra juice, but too much and you'll be straddling with all your strength while the bronco hauls off, smirking her way through the straights as if to say, 'Can you handle me?'

After riding Kawasaki Ninjas (500 and 250 respectively), this 1100 beauty could have been more of a burden than a joy. Yes, there were times admittedly when I wondered how I might manage her through the tight corridors of downtown. I second guessed my abilities- as a rider and as a do'er. As it had been a while since our last suare, I had some trepidations about taking her out now. Would she start up fine? Would she react differently? Would I even know where I was going in my new hometown? A sea of 'What-If's' flooded my brain. While my Contessa keeps me aware of my riding skills at all times, demanding that I pay attention to every corner, lean in on each curve and practice her clutch more than I care to, she also brings me a great sense of accomplishment. I was ready to put that to the test all over again.

I started up her rumbling twin on Saturday. Suited up in my leathers, I slowly pulled my Arai down over my head, opening its lid to take a few deep breaths of fresh air while a knot was starting to form in the pit of my belly. The key went into her ignition smoothly (a nice surprise for a change) and I kicked her into neutral as easily as I can remember doing. After ample coaxing with the throttle, she held steady for me and putting the lid down to shield my eyes I pulled her out of her dark spot under the roof for the freedom of the sunsoaked open road. We travelled on roads that I'd never been on before- ahh the simple pleasures of moving a great distance! One mile turned into several more and I found myself wandering through a perfectly lined road with no traffic and even a few other riders smattered about. A slight peace wave brought that smile that I had longed for back, and soon my grin was wide as I glided through the scenery of the golden hills.

Through thick and thin, my old Goose didn't let me down and I tried my best to not disappoint her. While I'm not exactly sliding puck in the twisties, I think I managed to impress her still. All she wanted was some attention and blacktop. All I needed was a little reminder that the best way to get over procrastination is to simply do it.