.: Honda Hawk GT | Winter Ride | Canyon Chasers Motorcycle Sport Touring :. .: Honda Hawk GT | Winter Ride | Canyon Chasers Motorcycle Sport Touring :.


Motorcycles

WINTER RIDE WITH A Hawk

A photo of Jen from the Hawklist - Photo by Trevor SadlerThe weather had been unusually awesome. Mid to high 50's and crystal clear skies. I got home a bit early to discover a FedEx tag hanging on the doorknob. I'd ordered Kris a little gift, So, I would be doing this for her, right? I justified.

Thinking quickly, I snatched the tag and ran inside.  In less time than it takes most to scan the daily mail and check the answering machine, I had slipped some long-johns under my pants, zipped my Alpinestar boots and was tugging my leather jacket over my shoulders.

Delightfully the Hawk, sans-choke, fired right up, and after only a few revs of sounding like a canary with a head cold, the guttural exhaust note filled the garage. I shivered, despite my multiple layers, at the sound of the little twin happily barking - ready to go for a ride I asked the Hawk, but mostly just talking to myself.

Neglecting my ear-plugs, I pulled on my helmet and gloves and was off. The cool afternoon air spilling into my open face-shield invigorated my senses.  A few slow speed turns and I was out of the neighborhood and onto a 40mph surface street. Traffic was building as the drones of workers were beginning their commute home.

My trip to the FedEx shop on the other side of town would not require any canyons, but at least the traffic gave me something to entertain myself with.

Racing towards larger roads, I made several lane changes, aggressively throttling away from the caged masses. The too-loud (for my taste anyway) exhaust note from the supertrapp bellowed and ricocheted off buildings and mini-vans, adding to the glee of acceleration. The rise and fall of volume and pitch as I worked the engine doubled the visceral sensations.

I took a moment and lovingly patted the Hawk in approval before accelerating hard into a sweeping 270-degree on-ramp that was miraculously devoid of mid-corner braking, soccer moms and panel-trucks.  Leaning farther than I have since last fall, it felt like I should be dragging my elbow at any second. Although, I'm sure, the actual lean angle was probably quite conservative.

Once onto the freeway, I quickly sped up to an indicated 90mph, I glanced down at the tack needle brushing up against the redline before snicking the transmission into fifth gear.   Engine pitch dropped as the Hawk comfortably eased up to an indicated 95mph. Still in the right lane I slipped past traffic and wished for only a moment that I still had the lower clipon's the bike. Instead of wishing I tucked down behind the meters.  Turbulence from a nearby tractor trailer bounced off the side of my helmet. Not seeing any constabulary, and being camouflaged by the larger vehicles I twisted on the throttle just a bit more.

Unhampered, the Hawk and I squirted out in front of the wake and into a calm hole in traffic where we slowed down to maintain the car-less position and avoid drawing undue attention.

Traffic grew thick as I neared the interchange, offering a series of three sweeping corners that would drop me off near my destination. Making an aggressive judgment, I moved to the left and accelerated hard, making a break for more open road.  The exit approached alarmingly fast as I slowed hard, checked blind spots and dove onto the exit.  I giggled with delight at having successfully entered the ramp without anybody immediately in front of me.  I rolled my weight to the inside of the tank and committed to the seemingly endless sweepers.  I howled to my face-shield as I accelerated out of the final corner.

Slapping a few downshifts I trail braked into the intersection that ran under the freeway, making the light just as it started to glow yellow. Yippie! Acceleration again. The Hawk, my willing partner in hooligan riding, I hope nobody is paying attention to a little gray motorcycle.

In the FedEx parking lot, I pulled my helmet before entering the building.  The door on a red Jeep Liberty opens and a pretty brunette climbs out, smiles at me, tips her head down and still smiling, tucks her hair behind her ear as she walks into the building.  Wow. That hasn't happened in a while.

I collected the package and repeated the route back to the house.  The Hawk was running wonderfully and cars parted before me as I rode home. The sun was lethargically dropping into the western sky, casting a brilliant orange glow onto the towering 11,000 foot peaks banking the eastern horizon. I pulled into the driveway and before I could even hit the kill-switch, Kris opened the garage door, allowing me to ride into the garage and park.  Greeted with a hug and kiss as I pulled off my helmet, "I got you a little something" I said to Kris, handing her the package. "I had to race across town to get it before FedEx closed" as I thought to myself, The agony, the sacrafice!! And I did it just for YOU, Honey.

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