I dug through my gear trying to match up my layers to the temperature outside. Then I turned the key, pressed the starter, and finessed the choke and throttle to bring the old girl to full wakefulness. Soon enough, I yanked the throttle open and relished as Boise (my Honda Magna) let out a a powerful howl. I had to decide if we would head north or south. I opted to avoid the increased altitude of the Hualapai Mountains and headed north.
I headed out on Stockton Hill road toward the Grand Canyon. I love this road. It's always fairly quiet and open. It's just twisty and hilly enough to stay interesting and I love riding past the mountains, one after another. This is a road that lends itself easily to short bursts of hooliganism. I wasn't willing to be stupid, but I did feel like enjoying the power of my steed. So, I picked a stretch of road with a short straight stretch and slowed down to get the bike into first gear at about 5,000 RPM. Then I twisted the throttle and held on. The V4 heart of my 30 year old machine is practically a force of nature. When launched into the meaty part of the power band the acceleration has physical effects on the rider. Your eyes flatten out and all the blood in your brain flows to the rear of your skull. If you had the room to run, the laws of physics would catch up and everything would smooth out for you. The best way to describe it is to compare it to a warp jump from Star Trek. Just watch as the ship and all of time and space distort briefly before the ship gains full momentum.