The second most depressing part of the year

For a sport bike rider like me, autumn is the second most depressing part of the year. During the work week I wake up and leave for work before the sun is even up, then its usually drizzling when I get off work. Combine that with small amounts of evening light and tons of tree debris on my favorite roads and it feels like a part of me has been ripped away. My whole weekly routine gets thrown into upset with sudden gaps where I realize that maybe my girlfriend was right when she said all I do is motorcycle stuff.

Coming into autumn I realized that I needed a last hurrah before the Willamette valley slipped into darkness for two months. My ticket, some medical bills, new glasses, and paying for motorcycle insurance basically tapped me out for the next few months, and I couldn't really take the time off during our last busy month at work  (darn work ethic) I elected to take a four day weekend early in November to go on a trip. Gas for a bike and meals is a bit cheaper than a trackday, gas for my car down to California, and a motel or at least its cheaper by the day.

Lets see, since last year's beer run to Northern California I have gotten the custom seat, real heated gear, waterproof textile pants and jacket, and aggressive Dunlop D616 tires. All I needed to do was swap the Dunlops for the Michelin Pilot Power tires I ran all summer and I'd be good to go. The wheel dismount and re-mount took a bit less time than it used it, I must be getting better with practice. My local bike shop didn't give me any guff about mounting my used tires, and had them back to me the same day. The local shops around here give exceedingly better service than the dealerships.

My dad wants to meet halfway for lunch tomorrow. Tomorrow the weather forecast calls for a 70% chance of rain all day. I suppose these tires and my textile gear is going to get a good shakedown test.

Last trackday of the season and a run in with State Police.

I never got around to talking about my 2-Fast TD in September. Life has been pretty busy.
For all the reasons the PSSR day at the Ridge was bad, this day was good. The day had probably half the normal riders. Joining me were Tyler and Marv (his first TD). Only one bike went off and it wasn't a bad crash.
In the morning session after warming up I found that the rider I'd been racing at ORP in June with the Superduke 1290 was there, and in my group. I chased him for a few laps, never quite able to get past him (I had better corner speed but I'm a wuss about passing), then he let me by and he tried to keep up.
Its always fun at the track out cornering the 1000s, and getting passed by the sv-650s and ninja 250s in turn 1. This day was no different, but by mid day I was only getting passed by racers on race prepped bikes.
The Jackal showed up and provided some impromptu timing for us. My best time was 1:26.8. Tyler beat me at 1:26.2. I'll chalk that up to timing error because I can't bare the thought of getting beaten by him on his SV-650.
Unfortunately I forgot to charge my Contour, so I have no footage.
Not the greatest pics, but they were free:

Fast forward a couple weeks into October. One of my first rides on the CBR since the track was out highway 34. I was having a great time and had already turned back. Somewhere near the Lincoln/Benton county line I came upon an old farm truck loaded with firewood and towing a trailer full of firewood. I tailed him into one of the sweet sweepers and he pulled towards the shoulder and waved me by. I took that as a good omen (the corner is a double yellow but has good visibility) and twisted the throttle.
Naturally I'd been having far too good of a time to look behind me. A few moments after passing the truck I saw a police cruiser behind me with his lights on. Being the good citizen I am I signaled and looked for a good place to pull over. Hwy 32 lacks shoulders so I was signaling for a while before I found a good place to pull over. Just enough room for me, not the police car.
I produced the documents for the State Police officer and we had a discussion about how I needed to slow down. He noted that my rear tire was worn all the way to the edges, and we chatted about the different engine displacements Honda makes for sport bikes.
He ran my information and printed out my citation. Because I'm a responsible and skilled rider, and because I have a clean record, good citizen card, and because I didn't run, he lowered my ticket into the somewhat reasonable range ($260) from what he observed and didn't cite me for passing on the double yellow. I suppose I got off easy. Damnit, $260 could have been a trackday.