Originally Posted by AntiHero
When I say "laid it down" I mean that literally, not as a euphemism. It was around 11:30pm when I made it back to the garage, which is situated in an alley adjacent to a hell of a lot of houses and apartments. When I roll in late I always shut the engine off and coast in so as not to be that dick on an obnoxiously loud bike waking everyone up on a weeknight.
Only problem is that the Panigale's lights turn off when the bike isn't running. Not a big deal, but the asphalt is in terrible condition. As I coasted to nearly a halt I fumbled around trying to press the garage door button through my leather jacket. And as I slowed to near zero the bike hit what felt like a curb and the bike immediately started to drop to the left. Only problem was that my left hand was fishing around for the damn remote. I braced the bike as much as I could with my legs to slow it down, did get a hold of the left clip on about half way to ground zero, but by then it was too late.
For the last 20 degrees I literally just held on and laid the bike down as gently as possible.
Anyone who's had an accident or done something irreversible knows exactly what weird amalgam of an emotion goes through your mind. It's a mixture of regret and the stupidity, mingled with a "Ctrl-Z, Ctrl-Z!" desire to just go back a few seconds to do it all differently. I picked the bike up, found the damn door button and rolled inside to see the extent of the damage.
Absolutely could not believe my eyes. The beautiful, smooth, candy-apple red fairing hadn't a nick or a scratch. The tail section? Pristine. The shock cover? Not a mark. The tank, though--the tank: smooth as glass. WTF? Only damage was the clutch lever (the break off point functioned as it should have) and the high beam switch snapped off (I think my finger did that while trying to muscle the bike). Oh yeah, and there was a slight mark on the bar end.
Fucking 'eh. Had the bike just fallen at speeds dictated by gravity I'm sure it would have been worse, but all that was really damaged was my ability to say "I haven't dropped a bike in 20 years."
Did an equivalent at Church. Ya. Church with my Multi. In front of a mom & kid. Thought the damned thing was a mountain bike & tried to turn on a sidewalk & watched myself going off the edge of a sidewalk & decided to try & turn at about 2 miles an hour. Dropped it. Broke my brake lever on the handlebar, that was about all. To replace...too much money. Bought an aftermarket that was better. Still, should have not have been seduced by the simplicity of the machine.
Must mention. I dropped the bike before the first payment on a dirt rut from a big truck tire, dried, embedded in the ground that I then immediately fell into a HUGE puddle on the right, created by said tire. Rode home with the entire right side covered in mud. The bikes white.
That was my christening.
Love this DUC beast. 17000 miles later & just one year.
DO WTF YOU LOVE!
I KNOW you, even if you do not know me.
Thanks for YOU.
One random person to another.