today's greatest risk during my commute and I was only 2-miles away from work in Torrance. Crenshaw Blvd's steep incline and camber-less 45 mph turns were met with an arrant driver began their turn around a sweeper that obscures the road ahead. Light on the rear and heavy on the front brake allowed me to dance around the situation and continue my trajectory. Half a mile later and the driver of a grey sedan driver took a hard right from a perpendicular street and drifted three lanes to take a left hand turn. I pulled ahead of him, turned around and made the international gesture for 'roll your windows down' by air cranking up till the red light.
"You nearly hit me," I exclaimed.
"Sorry, Sorry," he replied.
"Not good enough.." I said as he sped off. Taking the back way through a housing track, I turned onto Pacific Coast Highway and continued west for another miles before a bus began to turn.
The bus driver coasted through an adjacent driveway in-front of my path of travel before deciding on the middle of three lanes. I veered to the inner lane, preparing myself for an upcoming right-hand turn. The bus driver decided to take the slow land and began to drift into my lane; pitching me against the concrete curb. Staying on the gas the sped into the closing aperture and ahead of the bus.
Miles later I was speeding through the uphill, positive cambered, decreasing radius turn onto the 405 freeway at a smart 45 mph. Miles later, putting along in the carpool lane as I headed northbound, a Late-model Honda VFR passed me at a quick clip. I accelerated to watch as he filtered though upcoming traffic. He rode fast and jerky; as if he doubted his own control of the motorcycle.
I caught up to him, changed lane splitting lanes and proceeded to pass him. As traffic grew more viscous I go back over to his lane and began filtering through cars only to see him roar past in the emergency lane adjacent the fast lane. I watched as him black helmet and red bike shrank and melted into the pixalation of traffic.
"You nearly hit me," I exclaimed.
"Sorry, Sorry," he replied.
"Not good enough.." I said as he sped off. Taking the back way through a housing track, I turned onto Pacific Coast Highway and continued west for another miles before a bus began to turn.
The bus driver coasted through an adjacent driveway in-front of my path of travel before deciding on the middle of three lanes. I veered to the inner lane, preparing myself for an upcoming right-hand turn. The bus driver decided to take the slow land and began to drift into my lane; pitching me against the concrete curb. Staying on the gas the sped into the closing aperture and ahead of the bus.
Miles later I was speeding through the uphill, positive cambered, decreasing radius turn onto the 405 freeway at a smart 45 mph. Miles later, putting along in the carpool lane as I headed northbound, a Late-model Honda VFR passed me at a quick clip. I accelerated to watch as he filtered though upcoming traffic. He rode fast and jerky; as if he doubted his own control of the motorcycle.
I caught up to him, changed lane splitting lanes and proceeded to pass him. As traffic grew more viscous I go back over to his lane and began filtering through cars only to see him roar past in the emergency lane adjacent the fast lane. I watched as him black helmet and red bike shrank and melted into the pixalation of traffic.
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