I was reading Dylan's blog, Johnstown Company, and noted that he tormented himself in a similar fashion while planning a business trip to San Francisco. In truth, I didn't see that many bikes on the road while traveling to and from the Golden State or even up by Highway 1 so I guess I'm not the only one who let common sense get the better of my desire to ride. It's tough being mature and using common sense. I need to go out and do something foolish like buy a Suzuki Hayabusa before this common sense thing gets to be a habit.
On the way home this past Friday I watched the outside ambient temperature display on the NB slowly shift back and forth between 100 and 112° as I dropped into the desert and made my way back to Phoenix. If you've never ridden a motorcycle when it's 112° outside it's an interesting and painful experience. You convince yourself you can endure it but when you finally arrive at your destination you find yourself weak and slow cooked inside your own hide.
Way out in the desert between Palm Springs and Phoenix I spotted a fellow riding a Gilroy Indian (as opposed to a real Indian Motorcycle) at about 75mph on I-10. Usually when I'm in a car and see someone on a bike my first feeling is at least a twinge of envy for his freedom and sadness at my encapsulation in the auto but not this time. A peek at the thermometer on the car showed a toasty 110° outside. Nothing to envy about his ride at that particular moment.
When I got home the new Corbin Dual Tour seat was waiting for me on the front porch. Guess it was a sign of some sort.