Sunday morning

One of my mates called me up the other day to see if I would like to go on a motorbike excursion on Sunday. As usual, Cafetería Bandama was our meeting point. Time: 9 am. "One of my brothers will come with us. He’s riding his Harley," he told me on the phone.

When I got there, he was also arriving. I found him getting off the bike and taking off his helmet.

I parked my bike, we exchange greetings and we crossed the road heading to the bar. He introduced me to his three brothers and to seven or eight of their friends who also were coming.

After a cup of coffee and once we agreed about the route, we left the bar at 9:30. I was putting my helmet on when suddenly, I saw myself surrounded by nine or ten Harley Davidson, all stunning. We started off the engines and from that precise moment, the characteristic sound of these US made motorcycles remained with us for almost the whole excursion. Leather grip covers in handlebars, nickel plated parts everywhere, riders wearing leather jackets plus all the "Harley Davidson" merchandising one can imagine. From belts, T-shirts and helmets, to watches, sunglasses or scarves. My mate with his Honda CBF-600 and me with my Kawasaki ER-5, were the only ones who were not riding a Harley Davidson.

We drove up to Santa Brígida village. We remained riding at the back of the group. Harleys had set our average speed and I swear it was slow. Then we turned left and entered a detour. Soon, we were in some sort of well asphalted rural road that ran through the interior of a tiny beautiful valley I had never been before. Road narrowed a bit more and Harleys began to suffer the consequences of their size and weight. It was OK for our bikes but not for theirs. For a while we had no chance to change from second gear. No way. They faced real trouble with some of the U-turn bends; folks, steering these bikes at slow speed it is not easy at all when you have to maneuver. In fact, I remember I heard the sound of their stirrups hitting the road when they entered bends.

Overall I enjoyed the excursion. It was nice but I gotta admit that this Harley Davidson “always slow driving philosophy” is not for me.

Suddenly, my mate drove netx to me and told me: “as soon as I make you a sign, open throttle up and follow me”

I do not think three minutes went by. He gave me a sign, we took advantage of a small straight, we bluntly opened up throttle and quickly the USA machines turned into no more than the distant noise that came off their exhausts.

From this very moment, we had fifteen minutes of real pleasure ahead.

Long enough straights that let us get the most of each gear and nice bends that made us enjoy the riding of the bikes. Even when it was a two way road, it was early Sunday morning and traffic was very little, so fun was served. We two both reached the junction we had arranged to meet at with the others.

Harleys began to arrive at the check point. They all passed in front of us and then, we occupied our place in the back of the group again.

I have always had the idea that these US motorcycles were not very powerful, but as soon as we reached the motorway I had to change my mind. One of them really amazed me. That was a fast bike for sure. I didn’t see the others riders anymore, but my mate, the guy in this Harley and me got together into town, we waved hand and everyone went home.

It was a lovely Sunday morning.