I haven’t been on either of the bikes since before my degallbladderisation (yes, that’s the correct terminology, I checked and everything).<\/p>\n
I’ll admit that the weather has been really awful for the last three weeks.<\/p>\n
We’ve had snow, ice, extreme rain, and more ice; but that hasn’t been the reason for my lack of two-wheeled action.<\/p>\n
For the last few weeks the possibility of sitting on a supersportsbike and assuming the magic position (or the position where the magic happens?) has been far outside of my comfort zone.<\/p>\n
In a post-op kind of way.<\/p>\n
The scars and the glue and the swellings and bruising don’t make for easy bending.<\/p>\n
But today I’m determined to take both bikes out (not at the same time, obv).<\/p>\n
Even if it’s just for a couple of relatively minor six-mile trundles around the block.<\/p>\n
Or maybe a couple of brief runs down to Melton Mowbray and back.<\/p>\n
I’ve been regularly starting the bikes up, and running them to warm.<\/p>\n
But just sitting there, listening to the polished idle of the triple-cylindered 955i, and the deeper, grumblier, throatier, angrier rumble of the four-cylindered ZX9R has not been easy for me.<\/p>\n
Today, however, I feel comfortable about getting in to that<\/em> position.<\/p>\n Today is the day the bikes get a little roadwork.<\/p>\n Just as soon as I’ve finished this cup of tea.<\/p>\n And just as soon as I’ve listened to this gratuitously-placed, but appropriately-titled, piece of Manic Street Preachers goodness.<\/p>\n