2009 Yamaha YZF-R1: The first 30 miles
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From: Norfolk
2009 Yamaha YZF-R1: The first 30 miles
So I picked up a new R1, white and red paint scheme. I've been reading about the bike, I heard one passing the other way on 264 and I decided I had to have one. They're going for about $1500 under MSRP right now at Sunrise, so being the opportunist that I am, I picked one up.
The salesman hands me the keys to the R1, and I take one last look at my K6 GSXR-750. Don't talk, sweetheart. It's better this way. We'll both be happier for it in the long run. I get a good sit on the bike an immediately notice two things that I hadn't before. 1) The seat is about 2 inches taller than my GSXR. 2) The kickstand is shorter and therefore harder to reach. Despite my near obsessive desire for this bike, for an instant, I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake and that maybe, if I go back now, my GSXR will take me back if I apologize enough.
Before I could make any other "moment of indiscretion" excuses in my head, the salesman puts the key in the bike and starts it. He gives it a couple of quick revs.
What I hear is akin to the bastard child of a Daytona 675 and a 2003 Cobra crying in another room because he dropped his raw wildebeast leg and can't reach it through the cage bars. It was raw and scary, but still subdued. It was unnervingly quiet, like the slight, almost massaging rumble of a volcano before an eruption. But we'll get to eruptions later.
Needless to say, I overcame my short legs instantly, reminding myself to scold my mother for marrying a man who was only 5'7". I thank the salesman like a 18 year old says goodbye to his prom date's parents. Polite, sincere, but I gotta go. I ease the bike home, about 5.5 miles. Never getting over 4k rpm, or needing to. The bike was well mannered, cordial and still unnervingly quiet.
After a shower and a change, I'm ready to head to work, about 24 miles away. I kiss my wife goodbye, and give my kid a hug. I mention to her something about getting bail money ready and that my blood type is B+ and make my way off.
I'm confronted with my stubby little peg legs again, but as soon as I turn the key, I could care less if my feet were attached directly to my ass. I make my way down Terminal heading toward 564, giving a little throttle tweak to make passes but still nothing over like 4500.
I make the nice sweeping curves getting onto 64E, and I am easily getting to 65-70 in 3 gear without ever needing to go to 1/4 throttle, I start to wonder why this thing even has 6 gears. I get into 6th when getting on the HOV and the RPMs are so low, I thought I had stalled. Nope...just 3k and quiet. But that kid is still there...hungry.
I get into a little traffic and found that I was in 3 gear again. Nothing major, right about 5500 RPMs. I'm clear of the traffic and on the HOV, so I figure "what the hell" and give it a flick of the wrist. This is right around the Chesapeake Blvd exit. I notice just as I start to move my finger back, the shift light comes on, as the default setting is for it to come on at 6k RPM.
The shift light should really be called the "Shift right now, because shit's about to get really real" light. What happened after 6 RPM was blurry, but I do remember a lot of girlish screaming and crying, I'm fairly certain I peed a little and I was starting to taste the Special K Red Berries cereal I had for breakfast. I also remember that there the sound that reminded me of when they show Apollo rockets launching in the movies. So much for quiet and subtle. This well mannered date turned to into an unquenchable whore as soon as you pulled her hair. At 6000 rpm, it went from "Hello, how are you today?" to "Hi, we're here for the gangbang. Who do we give our waivers to and where should we put the horse?"
Once I collected my thoughts, I realized that I was now coming up on the Newtown Rd exit and my ass was hot. Not like it would get on my gixxer where it was like a slab of ham on a griddle and I'd stand on my footpegs for a second of relief. This was hot more like a jacuzzi seat, intensely warm, but not uncomfortable. In retrospect, it could have been my own urine, but my jeans were mostly dry in the ass when I got to work, so I don't think so.
As I'm preparing to get off the HOV onto 264E, I find myself wondering why this thing even has a 4th gear. As anyone who has ever ridden on 264 knows, it's a great shock dyno test for a bike. I never once felt jolt when hitting the 70mph speed bumps. The R1 was velvety smooth like baby oil on titties.
I pulled into work, and got off the bike. My balls hung a little lower than before and looked at the bike like to you looked at the girl who gave you your first blowjob, and then promptly went inside to change my pants.
All and all, the bike is so smooth and effortless...proper like a princess. But when you put the spurs into her, she turns into a complete slut, who can outfuck you and ten of your friends and has the videos to prove it.
More to come later...this bike and I have our first weekend together coming up.
The salesman hands me the keys to the R1, and I take one last look at my K6 GSXR-750. Don't talk, sweetheart. It's better this way. We'll both be happier for it in the long run. I get a good sit on the bike an immediately notice two things that I hadn't before. 1) The seat is about 2 inches taller than my GSXR. 2) The kickstand is shorter and therefore harder to reach. Despite my near obsessive desire for this bike, for an instant, I wonder if I've made a terrible mistake and that maybe, if I go back now, my GSXR will take me back if I apologize enough.
Before I could make any other "moment of indiscretion" excuses in my head, the salesman puts the key in the bike and starts it. He gives it a couple of quick revs.
What I hear is akin to the bastard child of a Daytona 675 and a 2003 Cobra crying in another room because he dropped his raw wildebeast leg and can't reach it through the cage bars. It was raw and scary, but still subdued. It was unnervingly quiet, like the slight, almost massaging rumble of a volcano before an eruption. But we'll get to eruptions later.
Needless to say, I overcame my short legs instantly, reminding myself to scold my mother for marrying a man who was only 5'7". I thank the salesman like a 18 year old says goodbye to his prom date's parents. Polite, sincere, but I gotta go. I ease the bike home, about 5.5 miles. Never getting over 4k rpm, or needing to. The bike was well mannered, cordial and still unnervingly quiet.
After a shower and a change, I'm ready to head to work, about 24 miles away. I kiss my wife goodbye, and give my kid a hug. I mention to her something about getting bail money ready and that my blood type is B+ and make my way off.
I'm confronted with my stubby little peg legs again, but as soon as I turn the key, I could care less if my feet were attached directly to my ass. I make my way down Terminal heading toward 564, giving a little throttle tweak to make passes but still nothing over like 4500.
I make the nice sweeping curves getting onto 64E, and I am easily getting to 65-70 in 3 gear without ever needing to go to 1/4 throttle, I start to wonder why this thing even has 6 gears. I get into 6th when getting on the HOV and the RPMs are so low, I thought I had stalled. Nope...just 3k and quiet. But that kid is still there...hungry.
I get into a little traffic and found that I was in 3 gear again. Nothing major, right about 5500 RPMs. I'm clear of the traffic and on the HOV, so I figure "what the hell" and give it a flick of the wrist. This is right around the Chesapeake Blvd exit. I notice just as I start to move my finger back, the shift light comes on, as the default setting is for it to come on at 6k RPM.
The shift light should really be called the "Shift right now, because shit's about to get really real" light. What happened after 6 RPM was blurry, but I do remember a lot of girlish screaming and crying, I'm fairly certain I peed a little and I was starting to taste the Special K Red Berries cereal I had for breakfast. I also remember that there the sound that reminded me of when they show Apollo rockets launching in the movies. So much for quiet and subtle. This well mannered date turned to into an unquenchable whore as soon as you pulled her hair. At 6000 rpm, it went from "Hello, how are you today?" to "Hi, we're here for the gangbang. Who do we give our waivers to and where should we put the horse?"
Once I collected my thoughts, I realized that I was now coming up on the Newtown Rd exit and my ass was hot. Not like it would get on my gixxer where it was like a slab of ham on a griddle and I'd stand on my footpegs for a second of relief. This was hot more like a jacuzzi seat, intensely warm, but not uncomfortable. In retrospect, it could have been my own urine, but my jeans were mostly dry in the ass when I got to work, so I don't think so.
As I'm preparing to get off the HOV onto 264E, I find myself wondering why this thing even has a 4th gear. As anyone who has ever ridden on 264 knows, it's a great shock dyno test for a bike. I never once felt jolt when hitting the 70mph speed bumps. The R1 was velvety smooth like baby oil on titties.
I pulled into work, and got off the bike. My balls hung a little lower than before and looked at the bike like to you looked at the girl who gave you your first blowjob, and then promptly went inside to change my pants.
All and all, the bike is so smooth and effortless...proper like a princess. But when you put the spurs into her, she turns into a complete slut, who can outfuck you and ten of your friends and has the videos to prove it.
More to come later...this bike and I have our first weekend together coming up.
Last edited by El Negro; Jul 24, 2009 at 08:09 AM.
Registered Member
Joined: Aug 2005
Posts: 2,141
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From: Virginia Beach
Re: 2009 Yamaha YZF-R1: The first 30 miles
OMG i fuckin pissed my pants twice while reading this. first, you're a hell of a writer. second, i'm super happy to hear how much you like that bike. third, as a novice rider, i look forward to the day when i'm ready to embrace such as bike as yours.
on a good purchase.
on a good purchase.
