WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

In golf, a Bogey is two strokes over par for the hole. Never anything to smile about I guess. I am not a golfer, as most of us know God wishes us to ride on the Sunday. Any Sunday!

In military terms it is an unknown craft – and possibly with bad intent.

When we are on the road we are surrounded by Bogeys. Yes, we can see, or maybe not, these Bogeys – and we should keep an eye on them – and doing so we will call these Bogeys - Can’t Anticipate Radical Sorties, or to make it simplier, CARS.

Even when you see them, CARS can and will do the most flabbergasting things.

Most times there may be one CARS that grabs your attention, and even though they are a CARS, you just know something confounding is about to take place.

Your Spidey-Sense goes on Red Alert – the Enterprise's klaxon is screaming in your helmet. (That has actually happened to me numerous times as I have a lot of Star Trek feldercarb on my phone)

This is the time to take notice and make a plan.

Indeed, when this sort of CARS event is going down you might have a split second to make evasive maneuvers. Oh my, Mr. Sulu!

But get ready, and if it is not needed, chalk it up to practice and bettering your Roadcraft.

But sometimes the CARS will do the unthinkable.

Well, do you have an example, Brian – maybe a case in point?

I surely do.

I had just ridden across the St. Louis Bay from Duluth, Minnesota into Wisconsin, and the western edge of the Upper Peninsula along Lake Superior. I was on a four-lane road, separated by a grass median, there were a few CARS around, and I was in the left lane approaching a gaggle of them.

Two directly ahead, two a length or two back on my right, a few scattered behind.

I noticed the car on the right had out-of-state plates, not of the Midwest variety. As we began to quickly approach a place where one could possibly make a left turn, the car on the right, a small blue Bogey, went hard on the brakes.

I took it in and could almost smell the cut across the lanes left turn about to happen, my Queens-bred Spidey-Sense on full attention.

Then the CARS did just that. She (it was a she), went from Humphrey to Burt. From Bogey to Bandit.

We were traveling about 50 miles per hour at this point, and both of us quickly slowing down.

When you and the bike next to you are riding at the same pace – it can almost feel like not moving at all.cThis can and should be used to your advantage.

I broke the Harley Pan-American in a severe, but smooth squeeze, the dual Brembo Calipers scrubbing off speed admirably.

The Blue Bandit pulled into the space I had just created – totally unaware of the “BRIGHT ORANGE AND BLACK MOTORCYCLE” present.

I could hear the other CARS behind me, their brakes not nearly as smooth or tires quiet.

I began to slip further back and was starting to blend to the right when the Double Bogey happened!

The second car that was behind the first (piloted by a male), now followed the insanity and slid across me – I registered the same out-of-state plates.

Frack me. Everything stopped - stopped - for a nano-second, and I almost felt the rear wheel come off the ground and then I let off the brake and swerved as hard as ever, with my wheel coming within an Angel's breath of his rear… and then I was in the now free right lane and accelerating past the two who had all sorts of mayhem happening behind them as they made their U-turn and hightailed back west.

About a mile further on the CARS behind me began to catch up as I was dealing with a cacophony of probably illegal chemicals my body did not know it could produce.

Two of the CARS passed me and signaled their anger, excitement and, I hope, happiness that they did not see the lone rider, enjoying the day, die in front of them.

For me, I thanked God, and later pulled off for a sports drink, and a few moments of me time. Happy I could.

Just because one bad thing happens, does not mean that another one is not right behind it.

As Steve McQueen said in LeMans… “It can happen to you, and then it can happen again. Right on, Steve, right on.