I can’t be a hypocrite.
I bought brand new, the fastest production bike Harley ever built. I got a cpl after market modifications to boost the Horsepower from 122 to 130. In Virginia near where I lived are endless freeways, and toll roads in and out of DC, from NOVA. Including the outer beltway.
I broke the engine in properly. I waited until I put 1000 miles on my bike, and got the first scheduled maintenance. I didn’t want to blow my brand new engine. And I knew every part of my bike was in tip top shape because the Harley dealer (Patriot Harley Davidson in Fairfax) does a safety inspection whenever you get your bike serviced there. Good people over there at Patriot. I highly recommend them.
There was one stretch of freeway near Fairfax. Where I knew the police could not have a traditional speed trap at any time of the day or night on either side of the separated freeway. I had about 4 miles of fairly straight, flat road in between two entrances/exits, and sets of lights.
One weeknight about 2am I chose to let it loose. I had the whole thing planned in advance. Even that close to DC. There was very little traffic at that time of night. I waited on the shoulder of the road just past the set of traffic lights at one end. I let one full cycle of the traffic lights go through. So I knew there was nobody in front of me that I would be able to catch before I got to the lights at the other end 4 miles away.
I’m an asshole, but not one that puts others in danger. I was the only person in danger on that stretch of road that night. However, I place a Saint Christopher medal (The Patron Saint of Travellers) under the seat of every bike I’ve ever owned to help protect me.
The speed limit was 50 mph. But once the traffic lights just behind me changed to green and there were no vehicles at the lights. I cracked the throttle. I KNEW there was nobody behind me or in front of me. I just really wanted to know what my bike could actually do. She flew like a fucking bat out of hell. And speed is totally my thing.
The specs said the top speed of my bike out of the factory was 139 mph. I buried the digital speedometer and it froze at 142 mph. So that is the highest speed that I know for sure I did actually hit. I think I may have hit 145 mph, though. But I can’t be sure. So, 142 mph is my personal record.
When I’m free falling from 12,500 feet in a skydive, I only hit about 120 mph. So on my Harley is absolutely the fastest I’ve ever travelled at. Except for the actual cruising speed of commercial jets. Which don’t actually count to me, because you don’t actually feel the speed once you’re in the air.
I love going fast.
Here’s a cpl pics of my ride from “Rolling Thunder 2015”. I cut my hair shortly after. I usually wore it in a pony tail, so as not to get bad tangles in my hair from riding my bike. Longish fucking hair in the Southern US is bullshit, btw. When you spend about 45 years in Alberta, Canada before moving down there. The humidity in the East is fucking insane. But back in the day my hair was actually much longer than in this pic a cpl times. I’d let it grow 4-5 years. Cut it, and do it again. I cut it right after this picture. And I won’t grow it long again.
Rolling Thunder started as a relatively small motorcycle rally (2500 bikes in 1988) in honour of and in rememberance of the MIA American military members from the war in Viet Nam. Some people believe American military personnel were still being held in captivity at that time. The rally was staged out of the many parking lots surrounding the Pentagon.
500,000 bikers participated in the 2015 run with 1 million+ spectators lining the sidewalks of Washington DC. It takes place on the American Memorial Day weekend. I rode in Rolling Thunder each year I lived there. It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen. It takes several hours from the first bike, until the last one to pass any given point.
I served in the Canadian Militia for a cpl years. Which is similar to the US reserves.
