Confessions of a Commuter
- CNF2002
- Site Supporter - Silver
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- Location: Texas
Confessions of a Commuter
Confession #1
Day: 1
Miles: 5,800
Mood: Ashamed
My first confession must be my biggest, most shameful one. I'm a motorcycle commuter. That's right. I bought my bike to commute to and from work, and to run errands and get from point A to point B. It sits in the garage on the weekends and is neglected on beautiful Saturday mornings. I don't wash it unless I have to, and it has no extra accessories beyond the saddlebags I need to carry my junk.
I don't know anything about bikes. I had no idea bikes could come with drive shafts. I thought the belt drive on my Blast was revolutionary. I can't tell the difference between a Harley and a Honda cruiser and all sportbikes look the same to me. All I know is riding to work is fun and I get great gas mileage.
I'm not going to race at the track, do wheelies on the freeways, or ride across the country on twisty roads. I am going to ride to and from work every single day, and chronicle the everyday musings of a commuter who happens to be the smallest thing on the road in a stampede of SUVs controlled by coffee-sipping, phone-weilding, tailgating road-raged maniacs.
Get ready for the most boring blog ever.
Day: 1
Miles: 5,800
Mood: Ashamed
My first confession must be my biggest, most shameful one. I'm a motorcycle commuter. That's right. I bought my bike to commute to and from work, and to run errands and get from point A to point B. It sits in the garage on the weekends and is neglected on beautiful Saturday mornings. I don't wash it unless I have to, and it has no extra accessories beyond the saddlebags I need to carry my junk.
I don't know anything about bikes. I had no idea bikes could come with drive shafts. I thought the belt drive on my Blast was revolutionary. I can't tell the difference between a Harley and a Honda cruiser and all sportbikes look the same to me. All I know is riding to work is fun and I get great gas mileage.
I'm not going to race at the track, do wheelies on the freeways, or ride across the country on twisty roads. I am going to ride to and from work every single day, and chronicle the everyday musings of a commuter who happens to be the smallest thing on the road in a stampede of SUVs controlled by coffee-sipping, phone-weilding, tailgating road-raged maniacs.
Get ready for the most boring blog ever.
2002 Buell Blast 500 /¦\
[url=http://www.putfile.com][img]http://x10.putfile.com/3/8221543225.gif[/img][/url]
[url=http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/BBS/viewtopic.php?t=11790]Confessions of a Commuter[/url]
[url=http://www.putfile.com][img]http://x10.putfile.com/3/8221543225.gif[/img][/url]
[url=http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/BBS/viewtopic.php?t=11790]Confessions of a Commuter[/url]
- dr_bar
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Re: Confessions of a Commuter
I think you will rot in hell for this...CNF2002 wrote:Confession #1
It sits in the garage on the weekends and is neglected on beautiful Saturday mornings. I don't wash it unless I have to,
Just kidding, great start to your blog. I can't wait to hear about all those idiots that you will run into during your daily commute. Do yourself a favour, as much as they are totally devoid of awareness, once in a while, look at these occurances with a sense of humour, (Less stress = longer life.)
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Four wheels move the body.
Two wheels move the soul!"
"Four wheels move the body.
Two wheels move the soul!"
- BigChickenStrips
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- CNF2002
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Day: 2
Miles: 6,301
Mood:
Confession #2- I'm wearing tennis shoes.
I occassionally dress casually for work. I won't go as far as to tell you what I'm wearing, but one thing is plainly wrong for any motorcyclist - my tennis shoes. Picture a biker rolling down the freeway in black riding pants, silver jacket, on a black bike with...bright white tennies on.
Embarassing, sure. But I don't think anyone noticed. Or at least my shoes were not as interesting as what they were reading in the paper this morning, in the car (red Toyota Celica, you know who you are).
There is a piece of windshield on the freeway along my commute. It is from an accident a month ago. They cleared everything except this one giant piece of windshield, a completely shattered piece of safety-glass much held together by its black weather-stripping along whats left of its sad little edges. I often wonder if the former owner of this particular piece of glass drives by and points it out to his friends, while driving his shiney new car, "Hey! That's my glass, guys!". If I look closely, I'm sure I will find a coffee stain on it.
It has been there for a month, and no one has bothered to remove it. It migrates back and forth across the freeway, and so inevitably regardless of what lane I am in, I have to swerve to miss it. It just sits there, getting smaller and smaller, now to the point where the cages no longer bother to avoid it, and there it will stay until it eventually just disappears. I suppose that is the way of things.
On a brighter note, I just found out my wife and I are attending a family reunion in a city 6 hours away in a couple of months. The workaholic that I am, I do not want to leave early so I plan on leaving immediately after work, and she will accompany her mother in the car early that morning.
Much to her confusion, I didn't complain about having to drive alone all the way there, and all the way back. "Who will have to drive back home alone?" she wondered innocently. She didn't get it. If you don't get it, just stop reading because I certainly shouldn't have to explain it.
Add to shopping list: Windshield for Buell Blast, gel comfort grips, and butt cushion.
Note to readers: I miscalculated the miles on my bike last post, so no I did not drive over 400 miles since yesterday.
Note to self: Start drinking coffee in the morning before riding to work. It might make the ride more interesting.
Miles: 6,301
Mood:

Confession #2- I'm wearing tennis shoes.
I occassionally dress casually for work. I won't go as far as to tell you what I'm wearing, but one thing is plainly wrong for any motorcyclist - my tennis shoes. Picture a biker rolling down the freeway in black riding pants, silver jacket, on a black bike with...bright white tennies on.
Embarassing, sure. But I don't think anyone noticed. Or at least my shoes were not as interesting as what they were reading in the paper this morning, in the car (red Toyota Celica, you know who you are).
There is a piece of windshield on the freeway along my commute. It is from an accident a month ago. They cleared everything except this one giant piece of windshield, a completely shattered piece of safety-glass much held together by its black weather-stripping along whats left of its sad little edges. I often wonder if the former owner of this particular piece of glass drives by and points it out to his friends, while driving his shiney new car, "Hey! That's my glass, guys!". If I look closely, I'm sure I will find a coffee stain on it.
It has been there for a month, and no one has bothered to remove it. It migrates back and forth across the freeway, and so inevitably regardless of what lane I am in, I have to swerve to miss it. It just sits there, getting smaller and smaller, now to the point where the cages no longer bother to avoid it, and there it will stay until it eventually just disappears. I suppose that is the way of things.
On a brighter note, I just found out my wife and I are attending a family reunion in a city 6 hours away in a couple of months. The workaholic that I am, I do not want to leave early so I plan on leaving immediately after work, and she will accompany her mother in the car early that morning.
Much to her confusion, I didn't complain about having to drive alone all the way there, and all the way back. "Who will have to drive back home alone?" she wondered innocently. She didn't get it. If you don't get it, just stop reading because I certainly shouldn't have to explain it.
Add to shopping list: Windshield for Buell Blast, gel comfort grips, and butt cushion.
Note to readers: I miscalculated the miles on my bike last post, so no I did not drive over 400 miles since yesterday.
Note to self: Start drinking coffee in the morning before riding to work. It might make the ride more interesting.
2002 Buell Blast 500 /¦\
[url=http://www.putfile.com][img]http://x10.putfile.com/3/8221543225.gif[/img][/url]
[url=http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/BBS/viewtopic.php?t=11790]Confessions of a Commuter[/url]
[url=http://www.putfile.com][img]http://x10.putfile.com/3/8221543225.gif[/img][/url]
[url=http://www.totalmotorcycle.com/BBS/viewtopic.php?t=11790]Confessions of a Commuter[/url]
-
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flynrider wrote:The ride would be even more interesting if you started drinking coffee WHILE riding to workNote to self: Start drinking coffee in the morning before riding to work. It might make the ride more interesting.
haha, attach one of those aftermarket cup holders to the tank, wear and open face helmet. . . oh man. . . that would be something to see..
JWF
Insert something clever and showing an understanding of motorcycle culture here
ATGATT
ATGATT
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JWFJWF505 wrote:its like a goat, but with two wheels.