Paying Attention To Red Flags

Is this where the problem is?

The RMMRC was doing a lunch ride last week and I figured I’d go. The bike to take this day was the Honda CB750. It seemed a little hesitant starting but I didn’t think a lot about that. But I did take note.

We were gathering as we so often do at the Phillips 66 station in Morrison so I headed out that way. Oh my god, what traffic! Bandimere Speedway is immediately north of this station and it turns out they were having some blow-out farewell event. Which is to say, after all these years, Bandimere is shutting down and presumably is moving somewhere else. There was a long line of cars coming off the highway from southbound and that line snaked around and made the right turn onto Rooney Road, which runs up to Bandimere. Normally I would turn onto Rooney and then do a quick left into the station. This time, fortunately, I could go past Rooney and turn into the station’s other exit.

I needed gas so I pulled up to the pump. After filling I wanted to pull over where the other guys were gathered but this time the bike very nearly did not start. Not the hesitation of at home; this time it was extremely iffy. But it did start and I pulled over.

I needed to hit the restroom so I parked and ran and did that and when I got back they were all firing up and getting ready to ride. I turned the key, pushed the starter, and nothing happened. Not for a second or two anyway, but then it fired and caught immediately. I leaned over to Roy and told him I was not sure about my bike, it seemed there was a battery problem. He said he thought I’d be fine, and if need be he had cables to jump-start me. So reluctantly I decided to cruise on.

We rode into Morrison just enough to get on Mount Vernon Avenue, which runs around the east end of town and heads up past Red Rocks. We went on up to and then under I-70 and made a left turn onto old U.S. 40, which runs alongside I-70 heading up Mount Vernon Canyon. For some odd reason there was a ton of traffic here and we had to wait a couple times before we could get through the light and make our turn. And some idiot woman coming the other way thought that she ought to go ahead and make her right turn onto U.S. 40 even though we were clearly using the space but I made it entirely plain to her that I was not yielding.

These were all red flags and I didn’t like how this day was shaping up. Plus, now that we were above the interstate on the side of the hill we could see that it was a parking lot. Good thing we’re not on that road.

Mixed in with us up ahead was a guy in a 1968 Impala and we hadn’t gone very far when he did a quick u-turn and held his finger up waving it in a circle as he went past going the other direction. I didn’t have to wonder why for more than a second or two because I then saw that our road was also a parking lot just ahead. OK, that’s it. I’m taking the hint and going home. I waved to Roy and Charley, behind me, and turned back.

I figured stop-and-go like that is never fun, it’s murder on your clutch wrist, and with a bike that probably won’t start again if I make a small error in hand and foot coordination one of the many times I would need to move forward–going uphill–this just was not something I was going to do. I hoped I would have no problem getting home but as long as I kept the bike running I should be fine. And I was.

At home I flipped open my Samsung tablet and immediately saw an item about a crash on I-70 up by Floyd Hill backing up west-bound traffic. Yep.

So I saw Roy two days later and he told me I made the right choice. They soon turned around and just headed over to a place in Golden to have a somewhat early lunch. Then they all went home. This was a ride that was just not going to happen.

Of course, then I was still going to need to figure out what’s wrong with my bike.

Biker Quote for Today

When writing the story of your life, never let anyone else hold the pen.

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