The Autobahn...

     THE  Black Benz flashed by me so fast... I had to look down to see if the decals were still on my tank!

After warming up at McD's, I was heading south towards the Czech republic on the Autobahn. 

I'd passed several wind farms reminiscent of PEI or southern AB.

     FOR a time I was riding in the right hand lane, with occasional foray's into the middle lane to pass a slower vehicle.

Slow is a relative term of course.

Next to a hare, a tortoise is slow.  Compared to a hare, a gazelle is fast but next to a Cheetah, maybe not so much.

     GLANCING at the speedometer, I noticed my road speed hovering near 190 kph.  Pretty near the max for the Divvie.  I rode like this for about 50 kilometers, feet on the rear pegs, head under the bubble.

Big German sedans flashed by me in the left lane threatening to suck the paint off the bike.

     MY best guess is most of them were travelling at least 220 plus kph.

There were no sports cars although later on in Italy, I would see plenty... just big, expensive Audi's, Mercedes, and BMW sedans.

NO flashy colors, just grey, white or black.

     AS the miles rolled by and the cool air began penetrating the various openings in my riding gear, I'd had my fill of travelling at maximum velocity, and slowed to a more sedate 120-130 kph.

Maybe a Hayabusa or Big Ninja would be a better mount, but even such high speeds do not long entertain.  At a hundred and eighty miles per, things are no more than a blur.

     MY thoughts drifted back to 1985, I'd just uncrated and serviced one of the first if not the first RZ 500 Yamaha in Canada.  I rode that bike (and GPZ Turbos etc) around on the back roads of the Maritimes, often at road race speeds.  There was one time on route 225 as the speedo was nearly 240, the engine began a sudden stutter.  The fuel was getting low and I needed to switch to reserve hurriedly.  Funny how a two stroke V4 guzzles when those flat slides are yanked open :)

    THAT meant having to reach for the fuel valve which was near my left thigh, this meant having to move my leg outboard of the lower fairing slightly.



No sooner than I did this, a motion that took perhaps 1.75 seconds, the bike immediately began to wobble!  Badly!!!


Badly enough that a lesser man may have filled his Calvin Kleins!

As soon as my leg was tucked back in, the wobble ceased.

    
RIDING at high speed is great... on a race track!

Here on one of Germany's many autobahns, with a heavy 35L trunk high up and far back... not so much.

In my 7 months riding Europe, I would have plenty of time to stretch Piroska's 600 cc DOHC air cooled 6 speed legs!

Autobahns.
Autostradas.
Autopistas.
Autofast!

I tried to find accommodation in Prague, but there was none available at the hotels I stopped at.



     ONCE past the city of Brno, I came across a major traffic jam just a few miles from the Moto-GP circuit.

Believing there was some type of race or event going on, I was thinking of looking in.

It was getting late in the day and truthfully, I was quite tired.

     TRAVELLING long distances on motorcycles especially in unfamiliar places (and was this EVER unfamiliar to me!) can be quite tiring. 

The wind, traffic, the noise (I wear earplugs), rain... all conspire to wear you out.




The Diversion, like my Seca back home, is actually very comfortable for a multitude of riding conditions but after 9-10 hours in the saddle, you are pretty much bushed.

     SITTING in gridlocked traffic I soon noticed bikes moving through the cars and lorries between lanes or along the armco.*





I followed suit (when in Czech right!) and apart from some experience with lane splitting in L.A. this was the first I'd done this in Euro.

Cars were surprisingly very courteous, some even moving slightly to allow me to pass.

     IT took me about 20 minutes to weave slowly amongst the five or six kilometers of creeping vehicles and we (the other bikes and myself) were through.  An infrequent collision had been the source of the hold up. 

Rounding a bend among the low laying mountains that make up a good deal of the country, I found a service station that also had a camping park and hotel.

Thirty eight Euros bought me a hot shower, a comfy bed and a peaceful and restful night. 

Bonus... the restaurant served excellent low cost supper and breakfast.  No McD's for me this night!

*Armco - those metal barriers that separate highways.