This isn't really a ride report, but I just wanted relate a little effort I am proud of. This last Saturday, my son's preschool (SSNS) held a "truck touch," where a bunch of big vehicles (fire trucks, school buses, police cars, etc.) showed up and families paid a couple of bucks so their kids could run around all over them, press the buttons, and generally look at cool stuff.
I was one of a couple of designated "motorcycle guys." Another guy I didn't get to meet showed with a couple of dirt bikes and a GSX-R track bike. I had the Hayabusa, and I tricked it out with the GPS, the cargo rack, etc. More importantly, however, I brought three helmets and sets of gaudy leather and CF riding gloves. I also had my 'Stitch hanging from a whiteboard I set up with a "parent FAQ" with answers to questions like "how fast does it go?"
I got to stand there in my full leathers for four hours shuttling kids on and off the bike. Fortunately it was cool and the beef empanadas from the food tent next door kept coming.
In short, I'm lucky I had the center stand installed because the kids were all over it like a cheap suit -- from some just shy of two years old (had to be plopped on the seat, usually didn't want a helmet) to ten (climbed on, feet on the pegs, helmet and gloves, going "vrrrooom vrrooom!" as they twisted the throttle). Kids of all description, both girls and boys, all wanted to get on the bike and be a biker for a few minutes.
(I obliged by adjusting the mirrors so that the "rider" and "passenger" could see their faces when they got geared up).
To a one, the first thing a kid did when I slowly eased the helmet on their head was to look at their reflections, grin ear-to-ear, and then snap down the visor with one gloved finger while watching themselves. Sometimes siblings would climb on together (boys in front sometimes, girls other times), and parents would snap pictures, and sometimes the parents would climb on and gear up themselves while their kids held the camera.
And there were some kids, usually the older ones, who just got that *look*, when they climbed on board. This was usually followed by lots of questions, about bikes and riding, which I answered faithfully, punctuated by minutes of just *staring* at the bike beneath them. Usually, these kids (boys and girls) had to be reminded to give some others a turn, but they were always back later.
Fun stuff. There were about four occasions where guys would tell me -- through their children, usually -- about how they had to give up their Harley or couldn't get a bike because mommy wasn't into it once they got married (e.g., "yes, honey, daddy used to have a bike like this but mommy though it wasn't a good idea to keep it once you were born...*sniff* *sob*"). Also a few "I'd better not know any more because I'd get one."
Lots of questions about when I would and wouldn't ride (which I enjoy, because it takes a lot to keep me off two wheels), and more than a few retellings of close calls with kids wearing T-shirts and shorts on their sport bikes in dense traffic ("what can you do about guys like that?"). From what I was told, I did great business, better than some of the bigger, bling-ier vehicles, possibly because I was strategically next to the food tent.
On another note, I did hear that my son was so stuck on one of the dirt bikes that the owner had to start it up to scare him off of it (my wife ok'ed this exit strategy). Exactly how small do those little Hondas get?
I was one of a couple of designated "motorcycle guys." Another guy I didn't get to meet showed with a couple of dirt bikes and a GSX-R track bike. I had the Hayabusa, and I tricked it out with the GPS, the cargo rack, etc. More importantly, however, I brought three helmets and sets of gaudy leather and CF riding gloves. I also had my 'Stitch hanging from a whiteboard I set up with a "parent FAQ" with answers to questions like "how fast does it go?"
I got to stand there in my full leathers for four hours shuttling kids on and off the bike. Fortunately it was cool and the beef empanadas from the food tent next door kept coming.
In short, I'm lucky I had the center stand installed because the kids were all over it like a cheap suit -- from some just shy of two years old (had to be plopped on the seat, usually didn't want a helmet) to ten (climbed on, feet on the pegs, helmet and gloves, going "vrrrooom vrrooom!" as they twisted the throttle). Kids of all description, both girls and boys, all wanted to get on the bike and be a biker for a few minutes.
(I obliged by adjusting the mirrors so that the "rider" and "passenger" could see their faces when they got geared up).
To a one, the first thing a kid did when I slowly eased the helmet on their head was to look at their reflections, grin ear-to-ear, and then snap down the visor with one gloved finger while watching themselves. Sometimes siblings would climb on together (boys in front sometimes, girls other times), and parents would snap pictures, and sometimes the parents would climb on and gear up themselves while their kids held the camera.
And there were some kids, usually the older ones, who just got that *look*, when they climbed on board. This was usually followed by lots of questions, about bikes and riding, which I answered faithfully, punctuated by minutes of just *staring* at the bike beneath them. Usually, these kids (boys and girls) had to be reminded to give some others a turn, but they were always back later.
Fun stuff. There were about four occasions where guys would tell me -- through their children, usually -- about how they had to give up their Harley or couldn't get a bike because mommy wasn't into it once they got married (e.g., "yes, honey, daddy used to have a bike like this but mommy though it wasn't a good idea to keep it once you were born...*sniff* *sob*"). Also a few "I'd better not know any more because I'd get one."
Lots of questions about when I would and wouldn't ride (which I enjoy, because it takes a lot to keep me off two wheels), and more than a few retellings of close calls with kids wearing T-shirts and shorts on their sport bikes in dense traffic ("what can you do about guys like that?"). From what I was told, I did great business, better than some of the bigger, bling-ier vehicles, possibly because I was strategically next to the food tent.
On another note, I did hear that my son was so stuck on one of the dirt bikes that the owner had to start it up to scare him off of it (my wife ok'ed this exit strategy). Exactly how small do those little Hondas get?
