I’m selling my motorcycle.
2003 Ninja 500R Blue
-Completely stock, great mechanical condition, just changed the oil
-Installed Pirelli Sport Demon tires 700 miles ago
-Clean Maryland title in hand (I’m the second owner)
-I have maintenance receipts and logbook, owner’s manual, Clymer’s service manual.
-The first owner dropped the bike on the left side, resulting in some minor fairing damage.
This bike is best for beginners or commuters, though I’ve gotten it up to 120mph.
Long hair and helmets don’t mix. After a badass motorcycle ride my hair transforms into a 70’s-style female bob: flat on top but with curls sticking out from the sides. This womanly style takes away from my alpha male image, as you can see from the following picture:
I tried bandanas, skull-caps, and knit caps, but none of them look right. Finally be accident I found something that works:
Yes, a headband. I’m bringing it back.
Insomnia has made fun of my Ninja on many occasions, saying it is too small for me and that it’s slow. I let him have his cheap laughs.
Recently we were side by side at a red light: him in his car and me on my bike. Keep in mind his car is seven times more expensive than my bike.
My bike DEMOLISHED his puny piece of German engineering. His response: “Whatever, I was keeping up.” I know that bragging about a motorcycle beating a sub-$50,000 car is bad form, but he started it.
Answer to joke: In the BMW the prick is on the inside.
Insomnia recently purchased a Honda CBRF4i, which means we can officially start the DC Player Haters Motorcycle Crew, or the DCPHMC for short.
Here is how our bikes are going to look when we park it in DC for a night of posing in Georgetown or Adams Morgan. I’ll get some pictures of Insomnia and I in our hot gear once he buys a pair of jeans that isn’t skin tight.
I put a little over 200 miles on my beast this weekend, with no close calls. Life is good. :thumbup:
I’ve been quietly putting miles on my sportbike since I bought it last year. Last week I rode to work on the first nice Spring day and took a long lunch so I could ride through the backroads of Montgomery County, MD. The ride started pretty normal, patiently waiting behind slow cars and breathing in spring air combined with car exhaust. I usually take it easy but after about 15 miles my bike was begging me to go faster on the twisties. So I did.
There is a 6 mile long road here called Riffle Ford Road. It’s a great motorcycle road, with clean pavement, wide, visible lanes, and a combination of tight and sweeper curves. I made my northward pass on it like I usually do but decided to try coming back on it after cutting my ride short. It was the first time I went the other direction on this road, and it didn’t cross my mind that turns which are increasing radius in one direction are decreasing radius in the other.
The speed limit is 40 mph and I was pulling a little over 60 mph, pleased that there are no cars in front to slow me down. It’s a buzz-kill when you’re amped, ready to go, but stuck behind a mom driving an SUV with a Disney movie playing in the back for the kids.
Up ahead I see a nice right curve and prepare to lean. I get to it and as I’m halfway through the turn, leaning, I realize that the curve is going to get a lot tighter. I focus on the two minivans right in front of me going in the opposite direction, and also the guardrail behind them. I panic. I’m already pushing it with my speed and braking is not an option when your bike is leaned in a turn; your bike simple stands up and you miss the turn, smashing into whatever is on the other side.
Re-enactment with actual rider, bike, and turn.
As I target fixate on the minivan, I thought that it would be very hard for me to survive if I missed this turn. Then the training kicked in. I turned me head all the way to the right and leaned my bike farther than I ever have to make the turn. I complete the turn and straighten the bike up, letting out a huge exhale that fogged up my visor. My legs started trembling and I could start feeling my heart beat. But I also felt a rush – a high – that I haven’t felt in a long time.
When I was younger I didn’t quite get why guys rode motorcycles. It’s impractical to ride daily and increases your chance of an early death. But all that is forgotten when you’re on the bike going at high speed with the wind trying to knock you down. You feel alive. Whenever someone tells me they are going to buy a 600cc super-sport as a first bike and take it easy, I just laugh. It’s impossible to take it easy. After a couple thousand miles it’s made me wonder a little… why do you only feel alive when you’re doing something that puts you closer to death.