The GS and I have logged a bit over a eleven hundred miles together; we are bonding. And best yet, either I've grown an 1/8 inch, or, the new shocks are settling in. More likely the latter, don'cha think?

If speed is an indicator of confidence (warranted or not), then my confidence has definitely increased. The past few months I've been a good girl on the highways, happy to stay out of the fast lane. Today I was chomping at the bit at 85 mph, scanning my mirrors for John Law, shaking my head in disbelief at the trawlers wallowing at 78 mph in the fast lane, providing me with an engraved invitation to pass them. The GS has plenty of get up an go; more than enough to do squidly zip and dart maneuvers. Just because you can doesn't mean you should, so I don't as a rule, and I didn't today.

I'm riding with Cyndie tomorrow - just us two middle-aged women on our GS bikes - she's on an 1100 GSA. The point of our ride is to ride our own pace without the pressure of "keeping up" with a group.

There are so many good riding roads in San Mateo county - roads that take you to open country where you can watch hawks and horses. Uvas Road is a breath of fresh air but like most country roads, just as you get into a groove on the sweepers, a truck meanders onto the road, and has the gall to actually drive at the speed limit. Today's ride to San Juan Bautista with Cyndie was a relaxed, low-key, hundred-mile snuggle with the GS; we are starting to "swing" together.

For a short while Cyndie and I rode behind a couple guys on sport bikes. One of them was having serious leg cramps. He was holding his legs out at a forty-five degree angle, and had enough flexibility in his ankles to tilt his running-shoe clad feet away from the tarmac. Not finding relief, he stood up on his pegs. He was so tall, and his legs so long that his butt was up very high in the air giving Cyndie and me an unwanted bulls-eye view. "Get a GS", I muttered to myself, "that rice rocket is too small for you."

This month looks like it will be more thinking about riding than actual riding. I've succumbed to the creeping crud - that "just a cold" that invades your muscles and makes you think it would be better for everyone if you drove a car. The next day instead of feeling better you feel worse so you work from home - thank goodness for broadband connections and virtual private networks. I had enough functioning brain cells to delude myself that I was working, but the next day I discovered two embarrassing errors in my work. I would have been better off not working at all. By Friday my sore throat had become a full inflammation of the larynx - my voice sounded like a dirty disk brake rotor. The bike has been standing in the garage since Tuesday, looking bored.

It's too bad I can't show the bike the books and maps I'm starting to collect for the next big ride. I've learned that the ride from Fairbanks to Prudhoe Bay isn't technically part of Alcan, but I can't imagine riding the Alaska Canada highway without going "to the top" on the infamous Dalton highway.

Next week assuming my health improves and I can get on a plane, I'll be in Florida for a professional conference. Yeah, you can joke all you want about Orlando being a play ground. My sister tells me that Orlando is "heaven's waiting room" - there are so many "old" people in Florida. My sister cracks me up, there's only twelve years difference between us, but sometimes those seem like long years. Anyway, no Aikido and no motorbiking for a week. I'll have to wait for turkey week to ride.

The big upcoming event is the annual motorcycle show which will be in San Jose in December. The question is, will the rain follow the event, as it has for the past several years, or will those of who take advantage of free motorcycle parking be able to stay dry? A friend wants to see the new Triumph 675 triple; he's trying so hard to appear blasé about this bike that he's practically twitching.

Looking for a gift for a new rider, someone who is thinking about becoming a new rider, or someone who wants to get back in the saddle? The Savvy Guide to Motorcycles by Shirl Kennedy, aka Uncaged Librarian,  is now available. This book (softcover) covers the topics that any one new to the passion (addiction) should think about, from "You Take Your Life In Your Hands", "Can you Do This? Do You Really Want to Do This?", to "Considerations for the First-Time Motorcycle Buyer" and "Tips for Older Riders". Along with the practical stuff, including protective gear, and Insurance without Tears, she heads fearlessly into touchy topics such as helmet wars (whether or not to wear one), loud pipes, and shows both sides of the issue.

I've only had the book in my hands for a couple of days, but as I've turned randomly to various sections, I'm nodding, smiling and laughing out loud. In a paragraph about how people accessorize their bikes, she comments on a fellow who

"... bought a similar cruiser a little larger than mine, and added everything but the kitchen sink to it, including decals for the gas tank. I rag on him about "whoring up his bike", and I'm sure he regards mine as a plain Jane...".

Where I work there's a maroon Honda Gold Wing, a large, and in this case, fully accessorized touring machine that is clearly the pride and joy of its rider. When he started lusting about getting the latest model which has a reverse gear, I asked him with a straight face why he didn't get a convertible. Fortunately he laughed.

There's a glossary of moto-jargon, complete with hip TLAs (three letter acronyms) that define the attitude of the culture:

UJM: Universal Japanese Motorcycle. Four cylinder, standard-type motorcycle imported in quantity from Japanese manufacturers back in the 1970's)

and a term that I never knew was an acronym:

SQUID: stupid, quick, underdressed, imminently dead

The book has plenty of tips. This one is my favorite,

" ... Always go to the bathroom before you start out on your ride, and pull over to use the bathroom as soon as you feel the urge. Why? If you're in an accident a full bladder is much more likely to rupture than an empty bladder, greatly complicating any other problems you might have." The tip comes from a former California Highway Patrol motorman, and feels like vindication for those of us who have small bladders.

This is the book I wish had been available when I started riding. It has all the information a new rider / returning rider wants, and it is written in the same spirit as this moto-journal, in the spirit of learning, improving, and enjoying life.

Today is the first rain of the season and boy am I glad I left the bike at home. I wanted to take the bike to work because I miss riding (I've been sick), but a little voice reminded me about the oil slick that is the hallmark of a first rain, and I decided to listen.

Daylight savings time is over, it is dark after 5pm. I take surface streets to get home because my night vision is poor (part of getting older) and I can't judge distance well at night. Scary to think about all those over-forty drivers merging onto the highway, isn't it?

There are about a dozen traffic lights and stop signs between work and home. Add a light rain to rush hour traffic after a dry spell and what do you get? Entertainment! The embarassed but under-control-face of the four-by-four truck driver whose vehicle squeals at the intersection, trying to get traction. The normally sedate Camry wagon fishtailing off the white line as the light changes. The sudden delight on previously morose hungry kid faces when when stay-at-home-Dad's minivan does that spongee squeegee move that minivans do in the parking lot at Safeway where there's more oil on the tarmac surface than sealant.

Just think about the road surface at toll-booths, or the cement surface at a gas station - now spray some Pledge on those surfaces and polish well with a clean cloth. Still wanna ride your pretty bike out there during a first rain?