The next day, I wandered to the agreed meeting spot with a bulging pocket full of $20s. Little did I know when I set out that my bank did not exist in this state, so I was forced to use the ATM of another bank to withdraw the money… but it was an easily overcome obstacle. I do wish I’d gotten a photo of the pile o money though, that was fairly ludicrous. I had too much on my mind at the time.
I met up with the owner of the bike and took it for a spin around the parking lot. There was a very, very steep learning curve. I am a short, 5’5″ or so woman, and the only bike I’d ever rode was my Rebel. Never even test-drove a dual sport, never rode dirt bikes as a kid… nada. The DR650 is a tall machine, and this one was even taller – stiffer suspension and the Renazco seat make it a good couple of inches taller than a stock version. I found that I could flat foot one foot, or drag both tippy-toes. I learned really, really quickly that the clutch was not nearly as forgiving as my Rebel, although it did take a few stalls due to a dropped clutch getting up to speed from a stop to drive the lesson home. The low-end torque was phenomenal, like nothing I’d experienced on the smaller bike. I looked it over for obvious problems, and finding none that would outweigh the value of the purchase, gave away my bundle of cash and had the title signed over to me at a notary.
Why yes, most of my luggage IS tarp straps, why do you ask?
It was an ugly fucker, but paint is cheap and it suited me just fine.
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