HEY, isn't he the guy who berated Ebass on this forum somewhile ago for not wearing a helmet? If so, should I bring spare pitchforks for everybody? Or would torches alone be a better choice, bearing in mind that this event is taking place in a bookstore?
Actually Evans and I have long since kiss... errr shook hands and made up. In fact, I promissed EBrass I would swing by to help keep the adoring mobs from swarming him, and periodically massage his throbbing wrists to prevent carpal tunnel syndrome from setting in after a long day of signing autographs on the bare chests of middle-aged club racers.
BTW, there was a slight typo in the News post. At the last minute, the title of the book was changed to the more autobiographical, "Just because I like to dress up like a woman doesn't make me gay" by Evans Brasfield.
It's not that I'm opposed to a little tinkering to gain some horse power. Heck I've done more to my old R100GS than I can remember, but after all of my fiddling it's probably good for high 12s in the quarter, and tops out at 124 mph indicated. Adding more power to some of these modern sport bike offerings is like buying dynamite to celebrate the fourth of July. VWW
I showed up at Aerobooks around 1300 Saturday to see what was up.
There were a few highly polished sport bikes parked out front, with their highly polished (and posing) sport bike riders. I think I saw Ebass's Vrod, but no EBASS.
I tried to start a conversation with a few of the riders. But we didn't seem to be speaking the same language. Showing up on a DT1 didn't help much, I guess.
For me, the neatest bike there was some street legal 650 Rotax/Clewes framed dirt track bike, leaning up against Aerobook's wall.
The rider was pretty cool too. He did a big power wheelie down Magnolia when a left, a very brave thing to do in beautiful downtown Burbank.
So I went home, ate lunch and came back around 1500, this time on the CL350. Now a snack table was set up. A few more bikes were parked, all in perfect order; forks turned the same way, helmets on the sidewalk. The Vrod was gone. A few riders were milling around the Graves R1, so I made my way to the snack table, and helped myself to some chips & dip.
Again, I tried to start a conversation with some twit wearing a wimpy blond goatee; it went something like this.
Me: (Munch crunch) Neat R1. Is that your Suzuki? (As I pointed with a chip to some trick Gixxer I saw this guy step off of a few minutes before.)
Mr. Goatee: Grunt. (Turned and walked away.)
I stood around for a couple more minutes, feeling very out of place, and mildly pissed off.
So when I left, I hooked a big wheelie on the CL, and promptly got a major ticket by one of Burbank's finest. Ouch. That hurt.
...and in order to get that big ticket, a few minutes before I had to take the CL's right hand floatbowl off, drain the float, solder the hole closed, and button it back up. All to get screwed by the BPD.
See, the float sunk about 10 minutes before, on my trip to Santoro's to get a large pastrami hoagie. I thought "Well if they didn't dig the old 250 Yamaha Enduro, maybe they'll like the CL." The things I do to impress prople...
Were you there? I saw someone on a BMW dualie leaving as I drove up, thought it might be you. You own a GS, right?
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