I guess the flag was there to buy peace with paying AMERICAN customers. I asked the guy to swipe my card. He did. Then he gave me what I thought was a cold look, then handed me back my card. �No good!� he blurted in a heavy Arabic accent. What? I had been using this card for the past 3 days from gas to food to lodging and never had a problem. I asked him to swipe it again. He flat refused. I was getting irritated. I gave the guy my Citibank MasterCard to swipe. That worked. There was no change in the guy�s expression. I went back to pump the gas. Afterwards, I went back to the minimart and asked if I could use the restroom. The Middle Eastern guy flat out said NO! He then pointed across the street at a Burger King restaurant and told me to go use their restroom. I couldn�t believe the nerve of this guy. Maybe he had a good reason to refuse me to use his bathroom. Maybe he didn�t. But his rudeness really made me angry. Especially since the Terrorist attacks on September 11th was still very much in my mind. That, coupled with the rotten freeway traffic I�ve had to deal with up to that point just boiled over. My mouth opened and the words came out. �F____ng a__hole!� Then I turned around and walked to my bike. If I knew he�d refuse me the use of his restroom, I would have gladly ridden a few more miles to find another gas station. I thought about pissing right there and then, but��.I didn�t think I could do that if some customer drove up! So I suited up, hopped on my bike and rode away. As I rode by the minimart, the Middle Eastern guy had his eyeballs locked on me. I raised my hand and gave him the Rossi salute! I kept thinking I hope somebody crashed a plane on his little minimart!
Back on the 101, my punishment was just getting started. Ever since I left the coast, the temperatures had been soaring into what felt like the high 80�s or low 90�s. That, plus having to constantly split lanes was really draining my energy. I got on the transition to the 405 and it seemed like the traffic went away. Just when I breathed a sigh of relief, the sea of cars and trucks lighted up bright red! The traffic here was horrendous! It was bumper to bumper for miles and miles. It was hot. The lanes where narrow. Many cagers refused to move over to give me some room to split. A few times, I literally had to stop splitting because some cager was blocking me deliberately it seemed. After 45 minutes of mind-numbing lane splitting, I thought about giving up and pulling over somewhere to let the traffic subside. Nowhere during this trip did I fear for my life until that moment while I split lanes on the 405 in the middle of this wretched shit! The thought of getting to Orange County, with the cooler temperatures and fast flowing freeway was the only thing that kept me going. I ended up splitting lanes for over an hour in L.A.
The last 30 miles of freeway was very much like the first during this trip. The lanes were fairly empty, the surfaces where smooth, and the drivers polite. I was back in Orange County and I was counting my blessings. I pulled up to my driveway at 6:45PM in the dark. 1,060 miles and 3 days later. I got inside the house and collapsed on the sofa.
Conclusion
Not including the horrendous ride in and out of Los Angeles, I really enjoyed this sport-tour of the Central California Coastline. The roads were just so nice and the scenery was inspiring. I can never get tired of it. Having two of my friends along made the rest stops and dinners fun and entertaining. I was glad they were there for company and safety. The Hayabusa has once again proven to be a worthy sport-tourer. It�s not the most comfortable as far as the riding position goes, but when the pace picks up, the Busa was always a willing partner. It had lots of ground clearance on those instances when I needed to dial in MORE lean angle. It provided lots of wind protection on the long freeway cruises. It also returned excellent gas mileage in cruise mode. Little things that go unnoticed during weekend sorties, really make themselves known on long trips. For example, I discovered how well the Busa�s headlights really work at night in unfamiliar roads. It�s big, clear side mirrors also helped tremendously in keeping track of my friends. The bike�s wide, and cushy seats proved fairly good for maybe 1.5 hours. And that gas gauge and clock�..they�re like a TV remote. It�s a mystery how I got along without them for so long.
I can�t wait for my next tour! |
