From: cdw2t@dayhoff.med.Virginia.EDU (Clifford David Weston)
Subject: one denizen's account of the RCR
Originator: cdw2t@dayhoff.med.Virginia.EDU
Keywords: beer, fun, rear lock-up, beer, fun
Organization: University of Virginia
Distribution: usa
Date: Wed, 29 Jul 1992 23:22:50 GMT

well, it's time to type in the long-awaited (by a couple people, anyway)
account of *my* impression of the right coast ride (tm):

i met dave lawrence, sean graham/casey/murphy/connery, and mark cervi in
charlottesville at 11:30.  we decided to take the blue ridge parkway all the
way down to boone (twisty overdose).  it began to rain immediately.  the speed
limit on the brp is 45, but "we don't need no steenkin' limit!", so 60-65 was
the order of the day.  as half of the group chain-smoked, stops were frequent.
stopping near floyd (town, not man), we met up with bill "small-tank" ranck,
who immediately had to run and get gas.  sitting at a station in fancy gap, a
nerdy guy walked shyly up to us and asked in a tremulous voice, "are you guys
denizens?"  his nerve startled us, so we didn't reply with the obligatory
"f*ck off!".  thus did jim small join our ranks -- and our ranck.

shortly after crossing the nc border (and after yet another smoke stop), sean
and dave, the katana boys, decided to work some curves.  mark and jim took
off in moderately hot pursuit, while bill "give me a boost up this hill, cliff"
ranck and i languished behind.  i know now that a federal park ranger passed
the lead squids as they were doing 85 or so (anyone of authority, that's a
blatant lie there).  after mark and jim passed him, he proceeded to perform a
three-point-turn at the end of a strightaway with a blind, downhill turn for
oncoming traffic.  bill and i were that oncoming traffic.  as i came around
the righthander on the inside, i saw the big white caprice blocking the entire
road.  thinking quickly and drawing upon all my experience as a rider, i locked
the rear up right away with my frankenstein-like right boot.  as the chp say:

>   o  Apply rear-wheel brake, locking rear wheel.
>   o  Close throttle, cutting off gas supply, and release clutch.
>   o  At the same time, apply front-wheel brake, but keep front
>      wheel straight with the direction of travel.
>   o  If the machine broadslides, hold wheel straight with the 
>      direction of travel and hold balance by leaning _away_
>      from the side to which the rear-end is sliding."

the machine "broadslid" profusely, the more so since i was on the front brake
as well.  i must at this time thank the forgotten person who posted of his
apparent high-side: an image of the computer screen appeared in my head,
unbidden, with the sentence "don't let go, you'll highside, stay on it, don't
let go, ...." scrolling by.  eventually, barney fife backed up and opened
the inside half of our lane.  foolishly, i let go of the rear brake, and
through some benevolence of the daemon was not thrown to who-knows-where.
i missed the car and pulled over to get the hell off the bike.  not only had
my butt puckered the seat, but it appeared i'd sucked the whole bike in, hence
the surprised look bill witnessed.  the cop didn't even acknowledge me then
or when we caught up to him.  pig.  the brp was scenic in the extreme: we saw
the loveli lakes, the efficient telephon system, and the majestik moose (my
sister was bitten by a moose once...)

upon arriving at high country, we commissioned mark to get beer (he had hard
saddlebags (i better watch it, i'll end up in my own .sig)).  a relaxing time
was welcomed.

saturday saw more denizens arrive, frolicking at the waterfalls, and the
fateful jonathan accident(s).  btw, it was sean that rounded out the
impromptu pitcrew at the welder's.  my impression of the lowside: i didn't
see it.  there were tire marks before the gouging in the road.  something had
to happen, since there were 13 (!) bikes parked at roadside after it happened.
an early return to camp meant a headstart on the imported beers; we pressed
our advantage.  a photo shoot, in which seth's *japanese* camera leaked oil
on the lovely sandy, reduced us all to posers.  dinner was spectacular, ed and
elves.  afterward, the ashtrays were flung to the far corners and the beer
flowed like cheap wine as dod revelry lasted well into the night.  the so told
me later she could hear seth all the way up in c'ville :-)

by 8am sunday, many of the biker scum had departed.  after another filling
cholesterol breakfast a la tom thompson, i headed east to raleigh through the
dark forest of ewing, accompanied by my favorite minstrels, jonathan "slider"
polito and bob hruska.

final observations:

-did we really drink *that much* beer?

-to whoever gave me the "squeeze your butt like you're taking a dump to
get blood there and prevent numb-butt" tip (dean?), i must add: don't per-
form this maneuver when you really *do* have to go.  'nuff said.

-modesty prevents me from boasting that i had the highest arbitrarily-assigned
dod# at the event -- which isn't something to brag about, i guess...

-seth could receive a keeper of the decibel title  <----- opinions?

-the award for prettiest bike goes to .... 33-way tie for first!

-special thanks to ed, sandy, and all the wonderful people who contributed
in ways i didn't see -- it was a really great time for me, to see exactly what
huge assholes you all really were and how much nicer a bike i have than any of
yours (except you, steve).  can't wait for the next one!

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|       Cliff Weston                     '92 Seca II (Tem)                 |
|       DoD# 0598                         [insert witty disclaimer here]   |
|                                                                          |
|       "I love your post.  Please don't stop."   -- Lissa Shoun           |
|                [disclaimer: this quote has been altered]                 |
|                                                                          |
|       "I've been doing OK lately with a hand pump."   -- Chuck Karish    |
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