Commuter Special

I finally worked up the nerve to ride the Funduro to work. This involves running a gauntlet of very bad drivers along the way and then negotiating the garage ramp with blind turns and extremely bad drivers hell bent on leaving the multiple level parking structure at the same time I am trying to get in.

I usually see these fools before they see me and simply come to a stop and let them pass on the outside arc of the turn. I was a bit worried about stopping the motorcycle in mid-turn but the garage was about half empty today because of the holiday weekend. I only met three cars on my way up to the fifth level. Getting out of my home garage presents its own challenge because it also has a ramp with tight turns at the top and bottom. There is another steep pitch (with a speed bump) just outside the garage. If you make it all the way to the street unscathed there is a nice sharp dip with lots of loose gravel. The rear wheel of the motorcycle comes to rest there and then you are unable to see up and down the street so you have to pull out into the traffic lane to see what’s coming and hope that the passing cars do not clip your front wheel.

The restaurant down the street also has a “commuter special,” which looks like an upscale offshoot of a McDonald’s Egg McMuffin. The problem is that they never seem to be able to toast the English Muffin enough to suit me, thereby reducing the overall special-ness. We had far worse food this morning at another old haunt of ours. It was so mediocre that it seemed like a waste to even protest. I guess it’s an ex-old haunt now. People laugh at me for buying things from the “dollar menu” but at least it’s consistent and I can be disappointed many more times for the same amount of money spent. Two dollars for bad food hurts less than twenty dollars for bad food.

So I made it to work and into the garage with only a couple of near-death experiences along the way. Backing the Funduro into the motorcycle parking spaces (between steel posts) took longer than I thought because of the width of the side luggage. Those cases are so handy that I am reluctant to take them off the bike though it’s not a big deal to do so.

When I was ready to go home, I discovered that I had left my keys with the motorcycle when I unlocked the seat to try and lock my helmet to the bike so it would dry out. The cable seemed too short (and flimsy) for the job and I left the keys in the lock (behind the side case). I guess no one paid any attention to that or I might be minus a motorcycle today. I saw somebody else do the same thing about a week ago but they also left their turn-signal on advertising the fact to everyone walking by. I guess we have too many keys and pockets to keep track of. While I’m on the subject of dumb things to do, it’s not a good idea to leave your wet riding gear in a waterproof case for a week either.

The air was cool on the ride home at midnight. There was still too much traffic to suit me and I felt like I was dodging bullets most of the way. Maybe the next time I commute on the Funduro I will be able to take all the obstacles in stride just like a real biker.