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Chicago Girls | by Viewminder
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Chicago Girls

I had this motorcycle in college.


I wrecked it a week after I got it.


Hangin' out in the blindspot of a 1989 Thunderbird I ate the front end of the car at fifty or sixty miles an hour.


I remember how 'soft' the car felt as my body made a really big dent in it.


Somehow I fell back onto the side of the bike and spun down the street in circles until it flipped over on me on the sidewalk.


Some of the pointier parts impaled me and it felt kinda strange when bystanders picked the bike up off of me and there were strange tugging sensations INSIDE my body.


I stood up and looked at myself.


A little scraped up and bleeding from a few places but it was a freakin' miracle.


Then the driver of the car walked up and layed me out with a punch to the head.


I got a few bandaids and some stitches and the motorcycle was rebuilt that week after arguing with my insurance company.


My insurance guy told me just to say I had a motorcycle license when I filled out the paperwork.


I didn't.


And funny enough I was on my way to get it when the accident happened.


A little 'creative persuation' or blackmail and the insurance company paid out.


The bike was rebuilt.


I got my motorcycle license and I rode that thing four seasons for three years... even in the winter.


That shit was COLD!


Thirteen thousand miles accident free... but a lotta close calls and a few dead buddies.


There was a woman I used to ride with and she had the same bike.


She was one of the best riders I've ever had the pleasure of tearing through the twisty's of Giant City State Park at a high rate of speed with.


Women have that 'lower center of gravity thing' going and she handled that bike impeccably.


I miss ridin' crotch-rocket but I've logged in too many trips to the ER lately without a rice-rocket between my legs.


But man I miss the screaming power of that motorcycle and the zen-like handling as you'd take turns faster than you knew you should but that bike would handle it all the way to the ground and then right back up.


If I had the dough... after I buy that sailboat I'd outfit myself with a Hyabusa 1100... a set of leathers and a trailer and tear up the track with that thing on weekends.


You never forget that power.




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Taken on June 24, 2012