Brrr

March 21 09

Still cool. -6 at 08:15. The exact time for a regularly scheduled pug walk. Also time to check out the real temperature (nothing does that like an quasi early morning walk, 20  minutes fresh outta bed). Forecast called for +8C later in the day. 

I hemmed and hawed and decided that I should perhaps put off the shake down until all the ice had disappeared. It was a shame that I came to that decision as I went over the bike with a fine tooth comb the night previous. All fueled up, tires up to pressure and all my clothes laid out over the heat registers to get maximum warmth. But it was cold and I figured a good strong coffee and some of Corniky's  best tunes would help easy the pain of missing a ride. I walked in and told the missus of my change in plans. I would take the CR-V, loose ball joints and and all. She replies "then you have to swap the baby seat to the Matrix", 'Nuff said! laziness trumps sensible actions. The bike was to be set loose.

It took 10 minutes to dress up. Long johns, gaiters, rubbers over leather combat boots, riding jacket and pants and to top it off a bright red hunting "dickie" to block off any frosty winds from entering the helmet. 

I was off at 09:10 sharp. I hit the 174 and nearly turned around at Trim rd. I decided to go further and got to Cumberland thinking for sure id turn around then. That didnt work so I continued to Rockland. Well the cold frosted my brain and I was on a one way train to the country. But before the twisted mess of dirt roads was to be tackled I had to stop at Timmies for coffee simulated drink. I needed to thaw my hands out to work the controls. I needed all the dexterity I could muster. Walking into Timmies in Hawkesbury was like crashing a country and western blue rinse festival. It appeared I had two heads. Well the hell with it, I needed warmth and caffeine (although I would have preferred the hiss and whine of an overpriced European espresso contraption).

Caffeinated and warm. The Rouge valley beckoned. I was off. It felt great pulling away and heading over the bridge. The cold melted away as I mentally prepared myself for what I knew lie ahead. Partially frozen frost heaved roads. Tortured and beaten. Man was I far off!

I have never seen the Rouge River road so hammered. So insulted. It was far worse than I had ever imagined. Pot holes half filled with water where the sun shined, ice everywhere else. You couldnt avoid them. Left, right, centerline or shoulders. It was Paschendale in the flesh. A car that gave me troubles keeping up with on the asphalt (yeah I know, I know but there was lots of gravel all over the place) was easy pickings on the Rouge. Cars couldn't go 20 kph without the paint shaking off. I was shocked, but in a good way. This was the test I needed to confirm the sale of my Triumph for something that laughs silly at conditions like these. This beast swallowed up the holes, spit out the ice and scoffed and the dirt. I was singing Sex Pistols tunes at the top of my lungs whilst my bike danced salsa in the mud- "I AM AN ANARCHIST" 

Rejuvenated and warm. Complete. I felt at one with the machine. The single cylinder throbbed and pulsated with the twist of the wrist. All shifts mated perfectly as a flick of the foot hooked gears up with the road that sent the rear end snapping out, left then right. I stood up on the pegs (my only niggle as the bars aren't high enough for flat footing) to get a better vantage point over the rises. It was an invigorating run that made my purchase well worth the investment!

(more tomorrow)