Another perspective:
This Trial Target Turkey Trail Test Breakfast Run was inspired by another thread relating to motorcycle bug and bird strikes. That’s how this whole thing started. For those of you who read every post of every thread on Rat Net you’ll know what I mean. Gdsila did in fact arrive at the rendezvous punctually and low on fuel. After filling the tank on the Legend we set off to find some turkeys to target. Those big birds are usually easy to find here in northeast PA.
It’s fortunate that those old Daytonas have good mirrors ‘cause one always has to watch out for attacking Gdsilas. Occasionally I needed to take my eyes off the rear views to watch where the adversely cambered road went while following a fire tanker sloshing water on the curves. Lots of brush fires here this week.
http://www.poconorecord.com/apps/pbc...200343/-1/NEWS
Since there were no turkey sightings I almost ordered a sandwich made from the flesh of one of those birds for breakfast but decided on an omelet instead. I think the eggs were from a chicken.
After eating there were a few miles ridden behind a horse trailer and happily there was no vent event. On the road to Hermy’s we passed a guy carrying a squirrel by the tail. I know a little bit about squirrels and generally they don’t like that very much but this little fellow was past the complaining stage. Expired, he was. Hermy’s is a nice modern dealership in Port Clinton that evolved at that location from it’s old fashioned original oil on the wooden plank floor beginnings. This place was a dealer for the Meriden Triumphs way back and the sales manager and the owner are both genuine people.
Turns out that I was correct in guessing that the Gdsila needed to have the Cabela’s experience. I think he never saw anything quite like it before. At least we got to see some stuffed turkeys. I’m not referring to the thanksgiving dinner type stuffing here. The Super Three in the parking lot very clearly did have evidence of some hard riding showing on its’ tires. There were quite a few bikes of all sorts in the parking lot on Saturday. It’s funny how the majority of them were parked in undesignated spots. I wonder why? Was it because they needed to prove that they could park outside the rules? Were they too weak or tired to walk the extra distance to the store? I wonder.
125 miles after the Daytona’s morning fuel up and I guess about 115 miles since the Legend was last fueled we stopped for gas. I chose the gas station because it was the only one around with two fire trucks and a battalion of volunteer firemen dancing around a brand new Lincoln Aviator. Turns out we just missed a classic case of birds nest under the hood fire. It was a big nest, took up a lot of room in the grain shovel that was used to remove it from the ground. It wasn’t a turkey nest though. Filling the Daytona’s tank to the neck for $8.10 didn’t mean much to me until I got home and realized that was 2.1 gallons of gas. I’ll be the first one to acknowledge that 125 miles and one fill up is no way to accurately calculate fuel mileage but that’s nearly 60 mpg. I guess riding like an old man does have some unexpected benefits!
It was clear that Gdsila was sweltering in his sauna suit so ah figgered he needed a chance to air out his shorts a little and convinced him to swap bikes for a bit. It was my first experience with a Legend and it wasn’t at all bad. After I found out where the foot pegs were hidden and discovered how nimble it was, that bike spoke to me. It said “beautiful day, roads are good, lets’ be Legendary.” Unencumbered by any human need to be polite the Legend said “ENOUGH of this *****footin’ around, this is a motorcycle ride with Triumphs, lets GO!!!!!!!!!!!!!” So, we went.
