
I'm just getting comfortable with my 600 (been around a year or so since it's been back on the street) riding it now for about three weeks.....new Pirellis' are scrubbed in edge to edge.....I've got the feel for the manic handling.
So, coming home from the office I take this on ramp which was newly paved recently. Pitched the bike over......cutting a great line through the decreasing radius turn.....knee just touches the tarmac.....look further up around the turn and here comes local law enforcement heading the other way.

Well, I looked over at him when he passed by....and he sure as hell was looking over at me when I passed by......pointing to pull over. (Twenty years ago I would've downshifted , buried the throttle and hyperspaced my way into another galaxy.
But no, I'm too old for that nonsense anymore.....)
Pulled off my helmet as he was beginning his lecture.....and he stops talking. Then he starts smiling and asks how old I am (credentials haven't been displayed as of yet) I divulge that embarrassing information ..... no, I'm not a raving mad teenager, but a raving mad middle aged man who thinks he's a raving mad teenager....
He's checking out the bike (with the bumble bee paint scheme

"You know you better mellow out. The cops in this area are pretty tough on sport bike riders."says he.
"Ah, O.K., not a problem officer. I appreciate your advice, thanks."
After a little bit of us bull sh*tting......off I go without even having to show any credentials.
FZRs' rock!
