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Again in 2006 Thomas has made me his biatch...

That :humpother stalked me, and then with stealth skill he and his SPR BLEW :later: past me like I was a cripple, which I am :loser: .

So here it goes:

We meet at 830am at our usual spot; to get there I've just had a glorious 17 mile rollercoaster ride AND I am loving this am. He's a bit :zzz: . We set out on a series of countryside roads and are casually exchanging the lead. I send him ahead on the chicanes and blind ridges, and I keep moving on the gentle sweepers and long straights. Nothing too crazy, just a few possible citations NOT issued. Both the SPR and Tam are running great.


We get to our "GAY" destination, a LARGE MC gathering at a VFW 80 miles west, to let the commoners marvel at our Italian delights, and do they! Together those bikes are quite a sight...friggin GORGEOUS!


After a brief hiatus, it's just too nice to be :cussing: , so we head out on more roads. In search of an outdoor food destination we travel the roads less traveled...AND...


It's here where he finally WAKES-UP :wtf: and begins a concerted effort to stalk me, find my weakness, of which there are many, and BLOW past me with MV FURY :mad: :mad: :mad: . Me, I'm left on the :eek:nthecan: . He ends up :king: of SR842,897 (a GREAT road), 586, and 325( a SR thru a state land...just a GREAT road, one you can do all day back and forth). Me, I finish satisfied with triples on SR842, 82,340, 724.


He felt so bad for me, he bought lunch, a lady-like Cobb salad with chicken. The chicken was to remind me of my tire's chicken strips. :flickoff: TC!. I remind him that it's expensive to crash a Tam and my fear is well-founded...I HATE PAIN :cry: .


We had a GREAT ride, 156miles without incident, and again, BOTH MV's performed flawlessly. That Tamburini is just CRAZY fast. But it goes to show you that real "speed" comes with skill, innate talent and BIG BALLS. Me, I suffer with "normal" testosterone.


Can't wait for his reply and pics... :argue: :drummer: ...

Peter
 

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Hmmm... I guess one's perception of the trip depends on one's vantage point. Yes, I started the day asleep. The SPR was only out for day 2 this season, and he (yes, it's a "he") was still hibernating. Until the usual crate or two of parts arrives, he's held together with makeshift mucketry. Same for the rider.

So, we tool along some nifty back roads up to a monthly ride-in at Ephrata, PA. Ephrata is basically an old industrial town, without the industry... or the town. It's one of many towns in that part of PA that appear to be inhabited by more deer than people. It's big claim to fame is that it's one of America's earliest religious communities; its Cloister was founded in 1732 by German settlers.

History has it that the community consisted of celibate brothers and sisters and a married congregation of families. The lifestyle of the celibate members was characterized by discipline and self-denial. They became known for their music, calligraphy and printing. Following the death of the last celibate member in 1813, the married congregation formed the German Seventh-Day Baptist Church... oh, crap, is that me yawning?

Yeah, so you can imagine my excitement. We're on the way to Ephrata, to see a cloister, then a cluster of 1000 guys in black jackets staring at each others' motorcycles... yaaawwwwwnnnnn....

And sure enough, the 1000 black jackets are staring at the 1000 bikes. Here and there, a women walks through the crowd... but at least 70% turn out to be more masculine than Peter.

Time to go. But not before Peter fires up the Tamburini and revs the motor for a good 30 seconds. Sure, he tried to make it look like he was monitoring engine performance, staring at the tach and pretending to listen intently. The black jackets were impressed, and animatedly pointed at the tailpipes. Yes, guys, it's just like a Harley -- all about exhaust.

Really, it's time to go.

NOW the fun starts. The roads are definitely worth riding out that way. The same thing that makes Ephrata boring (ghost town, under-populated, nothing to do) makes the rural roads great (under-populated, nothing to worry about). Zip, zoom, carve... we're off.

Of course, there's some passing to attend to. Having spent the day listening to 1000 men in black jackets oogle over Peter's Tambu, I can't help but think the SPR deserves a little praise, too. So, we arrive on a great road that winds through a state forest... and it's time to rediscover redline. Double yellow? Not for me. Speed limit? What speed limit? Corner? Yes, please.

After about 5 miles, the SPR pulls over to wait for Peter. A quick lunch, a few phone calls, a nice massage, a short jog, a few notes in my journal... and Peter catches up. We turn into the state park proper and drive the mile into the lake area. Well, we didn't exactly "drive," per se... more like "flew." And when I say "we," I really mean "me." You see, the lowly 750 is jealous of his big brother. And when the SPR's headlight shines upon Tambu's pipes, well, the SPR gets angry.

On some corner or other, I simply couldn't keep the SPR restrained -- it simply DEMANDED to get around Tambu. Hey, I don't write the rules, I just comply.

A few minutes cooling off by the lake, a photo or two, and we're off again.

This time, Peter and Tambu are ready -- you can see eyes peering in the mirror, seeing if the SPR is stalking. Yes, it is. The SPR is hungry for another piece of Tamburini - wants to show its big brother that it can play, too. And just like that, a right-hander appears on a few hundred yards ahead. Both bikes see the apex and gun for the right entry. Tambu plays the horsepower card, tearing off. SPR breaks out the braking card. Tambu leaps ahead, but SPR slingshots by... brakes late, dives right, and disappears around the corner.

Sure, it's not a race, and the smartest riders are the safest riders... not necessarily the fastest ones. But I'm sure you know that feeling inside every ride -- there are moments... the ride within the ride... the perfect turn on the perfect corner, the back and forth rhythm in successive corners, the torque throwing you back in the seat, and, yes, the little game you play when you come upon another bike... oh, man, it makes it all so good.

Don't buy Peter's chicken-strip and chicken-s*** stories. I'll readily admit that the 750 is more than enough bike for me (emphasis on "MORE"). Back when Peter was riding an AGO, I took it out for a few miles and nearly pooped myself -- that's just freaking scary. I can barely sit near a Tamburini without feeling my knees knock -- can't even imagine riding all that horsepower. He does just fine with that bike, and he'll be a hit when it makes its track debut in June.

Meanwhile, some pictures of a nice day in PA...
 

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Seeing both of those pics...I just came in my pants a little. :laughing:
SPR = yikes
Tamburini = Double yikes

Seriously, if I saw both an SPR AND a Tamburini riding down the road together...I would probably get in an accident....
 

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Superb pictures - Thanks :)
 

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:guitarist :drummer: :guitarist :drummer: :guitarist :drummer:
great stuff gents...........................now R you just need to wind the wick up a frac remember, slow in, fast out :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek: :eek:
 

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MV-999R said:
Nope, that's the Veltro :smoking:
Nope, it fails because it's damn ugly compared to the Tambo.. :love: :guitarist :drummer: :smoking:

Tambo any day of the week over the Veltro. :stickpoke :laughing:
 

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Rockethouse said:
Nope, it fails because it's damn ugly compared to the Tambo.. :love: :guitarist :drummer: :smoking:

Tambo any day of the week over the Veltro. :stickpoke :laughing:
Nhaaa.... i'de take a Veltro over a Tambo :smoking:
 

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I'm with Nate :)
 
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