Chasing the highs
There’s a real fine line between pleasure and pain, as I was reminded first-hand a few days ago at Portimao. Motorbikes are awesome, but highsides aren’t. I’ve come to that conclusion lots of times in my many years of motorcycling, and after a five-year break from this extracurricular activity, I was back in the throes once more, staring down on my CBR600RR as it jettisoned me unceremoniously. I don’t know what hurt most; the tarmac or the journey back to the pits, where I had to hand myself in front of my mates. What a sausage! Just moments before, life was exceptional, rinsing the living daylights out of this much-missed supersport sensation that’s now back and better than ever (full review next issue), but in one foul moment, the broad smile was wiped from my face and substituted by a battered hip and a dislocated index finger. The funny thing is that the latter didn’t matter. The number one goal was to get back on track as quickly as possible – which I was in all of 20 minutes later, once more splashing around a wet Portimao with a big old grin planted on my face.
To anyone who isn’t a motorcyclist, it’s hard to explain such a mindset, but I figure that most of you will completely understand my attitude and approach, with my biggest fear that day being the authorities telling me I wasn’t fit to ride. Maybe I wasn’t, but when play came to an end that evening, I obligingly agreed to head to the hospital for x-rays and my finger was slotted back into place. Did it hurt? Yes, but not as much as missing out on the afternoon’s chance to ride the ’24-spec Firebalde that afternoon, on slicks, in the dry, would have done. That was pretty damn special and one of the high points of the year so, of which there have already been so many. As mentioned last month, this year’s launch season has been nothing short of sensational, and it’s far from over yet, so I’d better rein myself in and start behaving like the middle-aged man I am.
But I can’t see that happening any time soon. More to the point, I like the way motorcycles make me act and feel, let alone who it gets you knocking around with. Prior to the piss-taking, there was at least two minutes of genuine concern from my mates on the Honda launch before they got stuck in, with McGuinness at the helm... and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Enjoy the mag,