Just out a-Beaming about April 18 1987 update May 18, 1999 

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I was on route 72 making my way toward Estes Park, straightening out the bends between Ward and Raymond when I found what I was looking for. A brand new GSX 1100 and a pretty pearl white 500 Honda Interceptor.

It was Carol and Rod. They were out canyon cruisin’ looking for some one to play super-bikes with. I hit the binders, pulled a "U" turn and throttled hard to catch up with them.

It seamed a long time till I caught up to Carol, she wasn't letting grass grow under her bike.

Decked out in black and white leather that complemented her sleek aerodynamic outline, She greeted me the way bikers do, with a nod of the helmets. She didn't challenge me to a gear down so I powered up to Rod on his Suzuki. "The super bike of the time".

Eye contact, nod, down shift then power up like big dogs.

He started to pull away from me like a railed rocket. The Crimson Pirate (my 85 BMW K100RS) seamed slow to respond when Rod took me by surprise as I dropped in slipstream to keep up. He must have been surprised to see that he couldn’t shake me. I caught up in the first turn, we sliced the corners leaning the bikes to pegs scraped for a few miles as I studied his riding style. Rod was smooth and held a good line. I powered up the Crimson Pirate to red line and threw it into the turns with everything I had just to keep up.

Then my chance to pass. I knew the road. I new that their was a straight stretch coming up that we might be able to pass the car that held us in suspension.

By holding back a bit before the apex of the last turn prior to the straight, I then I dropped one cog and throttled up to the rev limiter closing fast.

Coming out of the turn anticipating a pass, I then saw the road was free of on coming traffic so I hammered third. The heavy crank, counter shaft and massive clutch of the BMW launched me past Rod like a shot out a cannon. For a short time I had some distance between us. Then Rod's lightweight 1100 cc unit filled my mirrors again. We were running about a buck ten and starting to pick up some speed on an twisty uphill run. Rod feathered his throttle a bit and stuck to me like quality super glue on fine china. There was no getting away from that kind of muscle-- even when I broke the vacuum of slip-stream, Rod filled my rear view mirrors. Rod had me out powered by about 60 horses over my 90 and just toyed with me until he I invited him to lead.

I needed a rest. I find it extra strenuous to through the K bike around like that on tight canyon roads.

Rod complemented me with a thumb’s up and we both slowed to about 90 for a rest-bit. When the road got twisties again I ducked down behind my windshield as we picked up speed. I slip-streamed him closely through the canyon as it was relaxing to follow.

We jammed like choreographed ballet dancers with our tails a fire and had covered some real-estate in what seamed like slow motion.

Rod handled his ride smoothly with caution as to give me plenty of room to make mistakes. He was obviously a road racer veteran. He was outfitted in full leathers with a built in back brace and he had soft compound race tires on a high dollar shock.

Soon we ran out of road at Nederland so we came down to earth for coffee, introductions and plans for another run.

To be continued

By Deni of The Cosmos11 Express