RaWarrior
Well-Known Member
[FONT=Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif]here's one for Tim....you still hanging around here?
Going into work, probably around 930 pm on a monday night. cruising on the highway. Had the max kicked up to my usual "no traffic" cruise....85 or so. I've gotten pretty good at knowing when the cop hideout spots are, so I slow down to 70 when I know one is coming up. Easy, and has worked for years now without incident. I've covered 88 miles in right about an hour several times.
Anyway, my 100w highbeam does a good job of catching the reflective stripes on the side of the state trooper cars....I can spot them in the woods easily 1/2 mile away. But had just gone through a work zone down to 1 lane and was behind a car so it was on low. Come out of the work zone, pull left to pass and am bringing it back up again, flick the "HI" button, and the damn cop car lights up like a christmas tree backed about 10ft into the woods between the north and southbound roads. Look down and I'm showing 85+. Oops. Watch the mirror, don't see any lights except the car I just passed. I'm not convinced it's safe since pushing 90 is definitely outside of the "grace" zone. I pull it up a little more, intending to get off the next exit and take the back roads. I'm up to 90-95....just shy of v-boost range. I round a bend to a 1.5 mile straightaway, with the "next exit" near the end of that. I'm just about to pass the exit and see a pair of headlights come around the corner. I haven't passed any other cars on the road since that one, and it seems a suitable distance back. Just as I'm passing the ramp, I see a second set of headlights passing the first in the left lane, but still too far back to tell what kind of car it is. Too late to exit, about 4 miles to the next one. The second car is gaining pretty fast. Expecting, I roll on a bit more passing 100 and hearing the distinctive change in engine noise that tells me vboost is opening. Ready for liftoff. About 100 yards back I can tell the headlight profile is that of a Crown Vic. A split second later the cherries 'n berries come on. He wants to play. I glance at the tripmeter....45 miles on the tank. I've got plenty of 87 octane to feed this beast. I hesitate for a split second.....do I just pull over, get yelled at by some cop, and get a hefty ticket, or do I roll the dice and hit it?
$5 of fuel or a $500 ticket? In the words of Burt Reynolds...."Let's haul ass."
Just beginning to climb a grade, a downshift and pin the gas and it eagerly starts to push the speedometer farther south. The spotlight of the car plays across my bike and glints in the mirrors...trying to get the plate, but he's way too far back to be able to see it. Plus, this is a convenient time to have "forgotten" a tag light. He's gonna have to work for this one. Climbing the grade and passing 115 with the v4 howling right through the meat of the powerband. damn this bike sounds good being chased by police. Grade levels off to a slight downgrade and I'm nearing 130....headlights are still there, but don't seem to be gaining. Good. Touch past 130, shift light winks on. 9200rpm. Let it go a little farther. Oil pressure gauge is pegged at 60 as the needle jiggles around. I wind it to 9600 and haul it up into fifth. Down to 8300. Slight wobble from the gear change. Relax, it settles back down. Throttle still twisted firmly against the stop. Now you get the rare idea that the motor is actually working to pick up speed. Edging 140...it's pretty much tapped out. Slight downgrade and I sailed past the "exit 1 mile" sign....at my current pace that should take, what, like 25 seconds? Cop still there but he's falling back. It's nudging past 145 with a slight downgrade and that's all it's got. The exit ramp approaches with ridiculous speed. Off the gas and she snaps and pops from the superheated headers igniting fuel but doesn't miss a beat. Fortunately this exit ramp is pretty straight. Entered the ramp still north of 120. The stop sign to a T is approaching annoyingly fast. Hard on both brakes. Speedo drops like a stone. Don't see any headlights and drag the left peg onto the connecting road in second. Floor it again. The metzeler scrabbles for traction and finds it....it's nice and hot from that highway speed. The front lofts with the v-boost hit and carries it to third. Got about 500 yards to a right hand turn onto the state route that heads into town. Into third. Passing 90. Waiting for the last second to switch from wide-open acceleration to maximum braking. I judged a little late. The fork began to shimmy, the immediate precursor to a lock. Coming. In. Hot. 90 degree turn at probably 40. Right peg touches ever so briefly. Just before turning I check the mirror....the copper's just rounding off the exit ramp. I'm gaining distance. No time to rest.
Onto the state route and snapped right to the stop again. Slight squirm from the rear end but it's holding fast. The four piece band of cylinders playing a magnificent tune as I fly by a "city limit 30" sign pushing 70. First stoplight in town. As if. Down to first and another right. Snapped open again. Burnout. Shift light. Don't care. Hold it. I briefly saw the tach readout shift from a "9" to a "10.xx". Clutch. Second. Drop. Traction. Wheelie. Hard on the brakes again for another turn. Lever is starting to feel soft. Front binders are getting hot and fading. I know the side streets of this town form almost a perfect grid of blocks, they all connect. As you get farther from the state route, you head uphill. I went up so I could keep the streetlights of town as a guide to my direction. Again and again I make turns, wildly accelerating, hard braking for the turn, and on the gas again. The front brake is cooked but it's being used anyway for whatever effect it was still providing. As I'm accelerating off a turn and rounding 50, there must have been a giant whoop in the road. It launched the front end like a dirt bike. The WOT power held it briefly, then slowly lowered it back down smooth as butter. Wow.
After a solid 5 minutes and easily 20 turns(with no hint of headlights on any street), I pull into a parking lot behind what appeared to be some sort of restaurant. There's a good view of the main road below. I rock the red switch to "off" and the night becomes silent. The headlight dims slightly. The exhaust ticks and clicks as it cools. I'm bathed in heat radiating off the engine in the cool night air. Feels good. The wind brings me the distinctive odor of hot brakes. I reach down and 6" away I feel heat radiating off the calipers and rotors....yep.....they're cooked. Realize my hands are shaking slightly from adrenaline....as much from being chased by the police as controlling the vmax at wide open for 5 minutes. Both hazardous to your health. Oh well. Listening. Nothing. No red/blue reflections of cop lights anywhere. I roll the switch back to "RUN"....how appropriate, haha. The vboost whirrs into life again. Poke the starter and she smoothly rumbles back to life. Oil pressure.....good. Temperature....warm, but not hot. 950 rpm. Green light on the dash. Ready to go again. Grab first and roll out of the lot and make my way back down to the state route. Within a mile the temperature has settled back down to it's usual, the cool night carrying away all traces this bike was just in a high speed pursuit.
Mr Max wins again....
Of course, this story is fiction and the author neither practices nor condones speeding. Always obey posted limits. Speeding is dangerous and illegal. Don't do it.
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Going into work, probably around 930 pm on a monday night. cruising on the highway. Had the max kicked up to my usual "no traffic" cruise....85 or so. I've gotten pretty good at knowing when the cop hideout spots are, so I slow down to 70 when I know one is coming up. Easy, and has worked for years now without incident. I've covered 88 miles in right about an hour several times.
Anyway, my 100w highbeam does a good job of catching the reflective stripes on the side of the state trooper cars....I can spot them in the woods easily 1/2 mile away. But had just gone through a work zone down to 1 lane and was behind a car so it was on low. Come out of the work zone, pull left to pass and am bringing it back up again, flick the "HI" button, and the damn cop car lights up like a christmas tree backed about 10ft into the woods between the north and southbound roads. Look down and I'm showing 85+. Oops. Watch the mirror, don't see any lights except the car I just passed. I'm not convinced it's safe since pushing 90 is definitely outside of the "grace" zone. I pull it up a little more, intending to get off the next exit and take the back roads. I'm up to 90-95....just shy of v-boost range. I round a bend to a 1.5 mile straightaway, with the "next exit" near the end of that. I'm just about to pass the exit and see a pair of headlights come around the corner. I haven't passed any other cars on the road since that one, and it seems a suitable distance back. Just as I'm passing the ramp, I see a second set of headlights passing the first in the left lane, but still too far back to tell what kind of car it is. Too late to exit, about 4 miles to the next one. The second car is gaining pretty fast. Expecting, I roll on a bit more passing 100 and hearing the distinctive change in engine noise that tells me vboost is opening. Ready for liftoff. About 100 yards back I can tell the headlight profile is that of a Crown Vic. A split second later the cherries 'n berries come on. He wants to play. I glance at the tripmeter....45 miles on the tank. I've got plenty of 87 octane to feed this beast. I hesitate for a split second.....do I just pull over, get yelled at by some cop, and get a hefty ticket, or do I roll the dice and hit it?
$5 of fuel or a $500 ticket? In the words of Burt Reynolds...."Let's haul ass."
Just beginning to climb a grade, a downshift and pin the gas and it eagerly starts to push the speedometer farther south. The spotlight of the car plays across my bike and glints in the mirrors...trying to get the plate, but he's way too far back to be able to see it. Plus, this is a convenient time to have "forgotten" a tag light. He's gonna have to work for this one. Climbing the grade and passing 115 with the v4 howling right through the meat of the powerband. damn this bike sounds good being chased by police. Grade levels off to a slight downgrade and I'm nearing 130....headlights are still there, but don't seem to be gaining. Good. Touch past 130, shift light winks on. 9200rpm. Let it go a little farther. Oil pressure gauge is pegged at 60 as the needle jiggles around. I wind it to 9600 and haul it up into fifth. Down to 8300. Slight wobble from the gear change. Relax, it settles back down. Throttle still twisted firmly against the stop. Now you get the rare idea that the motor is actually working to pick up speed. Edging 140...it's pretty much tapped out. Slight downgrade and I sailed past the "exit 1 mile" sign....at my current pace that should take, what, like 25 seconds? Cop still there but he's falling back. It's nudging past 145 with a slight downgrade and that's all it's got. The exit ramp approaches with ridiculous speed. Off the gas and she snaps and pops from the superheated headers igniting fuel but doesn't miss a beat. Fortunately this exit ramp is pretty straight. Entered the ramp still north of 120. The stop sign to a T is approaching annoyingly fast. Hard on both brakes. Speedo drops like a stone. Don't see any headlights and drag the left peg onto the connecting road in second. Floor it again. The metzeler scrabbles for traction and finds it....it's nice and hot from that highway speed. The front lofts with the v-boost hit and carries it to third. Got about 500 yards to a right hand turn onto the state route that heads into town. Into third. Passing 90. Waiting for the last second to switch from wide-open acceleration to maximum braking. I judged a little late. The fork began to shimmy, the immediate precursor to a lock. Coming. In. Hot. 90 degree turn at probably 40. Right peg touches ever so briefly. Just before turning I check the mirror....the copper's just rounding off the exit ramp. I'm gaining distance. No time to rest.
Onto the state route and snapped right to the stop again. Slight squirm from the rear end but it's holding fast. The four piece band of cylinders playing a magnificent tune as I fly by a "city limit 30" sign pushing 70. First stoplight in town. As if. Down to first and another right. Snapped open again. Burnout. Shift light. Don't care. Hold it. I briefly saw the tach readout shift from a "9" to a "10.xx". Clutch. Second. Drop. Traction. Wheelie. Hard on the brakes again for another turn. Lever is starting to feel soft. Front binders are getting hot and fading. I know the side streets of this town form almost a perfect grid of blocks, they all connect. As you get farther from the state route, you head uphill. I went up so I could keep the streetlights of town as a guide to my direction. Again and again I make turns, wildly accelerating, hard braking for the turn, and on the gas again. The front brake is cooked but it's being used anyway for whatever effect it was still providing. As I'm accelerating off a turn and rounding 50, there must have been a giant whoop in the road. It launched the front end like a dirt bike. The WOT power held it briefly, then slowly lowered it back down smooth as butter. Wow.
After a solid 5 minutes and easily 20 turns(with no hint of headlights on any street), I pull into a parking lot behind what appeared to be some sort of restaurant. There's a good view of the main road below. I rock the red switch to "off" and the night becomes silent. The headlight dims slightly. The exhaust ticks and clicks as it cools. I'm bathed in heat radiating off the engine in the cool night air. Feels good. The wind brings me the distinctive odor of hot brakes. I reach down and 6" away I feel heat radiating off the calipers and rotors....yep.....they're cooked. Realize my hands are shaking slightly from adrenaline....as much from being chased by the police as controlling the vmax at wide open for 5 minutes. Both hazardous to your health. Oh well. Listening. Nothing. No red/blue reflections of cop lights anywhere. I roll the switch back to "RUN"....how appropriate, haha. The vboost whirrs into life again. Poke the starter and she smoothly rumbles back to life. Oil pressure.....good. Temperature....warm, but not hot. 950 rpm. Green light on the dash. Ready to go again. Grab first and roll out of the lot and make my way back down to the state route. Within a mile the temperature has settled back down to it's usual, the cool night carrying away all traces this bike was just in a high speed pursuit.
Mr Max wins again....
Of course, this story is fiction and the author neither practices nor condones speeding. Always obey posted limits. Speeding is dangerous and illegal. Don't do it.
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