A boring, little story for your enjoyment: This past Saturday, I was passed by a pirate parade of some 30 people on straight piped Harleys (in matching vests.) I was doing 8-10mph over the limit when they passed. I caught up to them on a section of two lane(eastbound) twisties and was able to get past them before the two lanes turned into one. This was in spite of several of them joining me in my lane at inopportune times. (Like when I was swinging wide through the turn, inside my lane.) Unfortunately, there was a car in front of me in the now and the group of Harley enthusiasts (in matching vests) was behind me. I was not happy about having this pirate parade at my six and the guy in front of me having a love affair with his brakes. There was one more set of twisties to go until I had to slab it back home. So, wanting to enjoy this last set of twisties, I passed Mr. Flashy Brakes. It was a "clean" pass in that I could see far ahead on this straightaway. It was a "dirty" pass due to those all too frequent pesky double yellow lines that I crossed. :eek1 (Lets not turn this into a discussion about passing on a double yellow, okay? I enjoyed this last bit of twisties and motored along on the straightaway, moving some 8-10 over the limit for several miles. The pirate parade (in matching vests) caught me several miles later. At a light, I nodded my head in acknowledgement of existance the "leader" of the pirate parade. "He yelled at me over the noise of his straight pipes and his blippy throttle brethren; "Nice job crossing the double yellow back there. You make us all look bad!" As cascade of responses poured from my brain. Fortunately for me and my teeth, they came all at once and I could not vocalize my thoughts. Among them were, "If you want to look good you might try losing 30 pounds." I also thought about mentioning the speeds they had traveled over the speed limit. I also thought of mentioning that a lot of people really don't like the noise from straight piped motorcycles and how that affects some people's opinions of motorcyclists. I just nodded my head and waited for the green light. There were several more lights for the next few miles where I just sort of looked ahead in anticipation of the green light. Eventually, they turned left and I went straight, with the same number of teeth I left home with that morning. Sometimes it is a good thing to be a little "slow."