One thing I don't take too lightly is motorcycle luggage. I put a shit-ton of miles on in a year's time, and I gotta be able to jam everything but the kitchen sink into a few bags and git movin' at a moment's notice. They gotta be roomy and tough to make me happy.
Well, I did somethin' stupid yesterday, and all it did was make me a firm believer in Leatherlyke saddlebags. The ones I got ain't really bags, but more of a hard plastic shell.
I was at the car wash givin' the ol' V-Star a quick bath on the way home from work. Someone was waitin' to get into the bay by the time I was done, so I real quick-like threw the bags back on and rolled outta there, haulin' ass (I like to air-dry the bikes the fun way). Well, I took the long way home, pulled up to my mailbox and reached back to throw open the bag to put the mail in. Let's just say I figgered out real quick that somethin' was missin'. Apparently, in my haste, I missed a vital step in hookin' the bags back on.
Long story short, after drivin' up and back the road a dozen times to see if I could find anythin', I got a call from the insurance company. Some dude had stopped and picked it up, found my card and called it in. I gave him a buzz, and he was kind enough to stop over and drop it off for me.
I couldn't hardly believe it... I was goin' at least 75 when that thing hit the ground, and all it had to show for it was a new scratch or two. And on top of that, I've laid that bitch bike down twice, both times on that side. How that saddlebag ain't in a million pieces by now, I ain't gotta clue.
Now that's one tough-ass bag.
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Just got off the phone with the ol' man. Apparently, the word of the day is "Fuck". In my family, that means that somethin' bad has happened, yaknow, like missin' a big ol' gobbler at 25 steps after workin' him for over an hour. Sorry, Pop... can't get 'em every time I guess.