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Written by:
Neale Bayly
08/23/2008 - 02:30 PM
Charlotte, NC
With a tag line “Performance meets the street” Pirelli has designed what they are calling a “muscle tire” specifically for all big V-twin motorcycles. (Photo: Pirelli) » More Photos
I’ve got Iggy Pop’s “Night Clubbin” stuck in my head as I splash my way north toward the Dunlawton Bridge on my way back to A1A. With one of the Pirelli girls, Allysa, on the passenger seat, I’m taking it fairly easy in the wet and enjoying the mellow ride on the big Harley. The bike is totally stock, so we aren’t making any fashion statements at the ego fest known as Bike Week. I’m here to test a set of tires though, not win a plastic trophy for spending $50,000 on chrome, so can’t say I’m bothered.
And then it happens. One of the 450,000 one per centers, brave enough to leave the Holiday Inn in the rain looking for adventure, spots my bright red Joe Rocket jacket and full face helmet. Pulling up alongside, he demonstrates his manly glare facial expression, and a particularly unique talent not often seen at Bike Week, revving the nuts of a bike at a stoplight. This gives me the feeling he’s trying to bond with me, or something, so I smile. This doesn’t gain a response for some reason, and then it dawns on me that he probably can’t see through my purple face shield, so I give up on trying to be friendly and wait for the light to turn green.
With the light taking forever to change, I wonder if my new chum is trying to impress Allysa with his bicep flex, as he keeps yanking on the throttle so hard. I hope the air-cooled, aftermarket engine is going to handle the abuse. Bordering on painful, he
How kind of him I think to myself. He must know I’m doing a tire test, and everyone knows the only real way to experience the wet weather performance is with a bit of sporting competition. So, employing the old watching the opposing traffic light trick, I slip my bike into gear, and a split second after our light changes, I’m gone. Using the simply phenomenal grip afforded the Pirelli Night Dragon fitted to the rear of my bike, I leave my new friends, hoping they don’t think my premature departure is rude. Aiming straight and true, I short shift up through the gears without any wheel spin, hoping Alyssa doesn’t mind a bit of speed. Turning to see her grinning in approval, I pile it on, blitz down the hill off the bridge, and leave the braking before my left hand turn as late as I dare.
Again, marveling at the control of the tires on the wet, irregular Daytona pavement, I literally crank the big Harley over on its side, twist on the throttle, and blast off up A1A. Taking a quick look over my shoulder, I think I’ve upset my friends, as it seems like they don’t want to play. So, all alone again I ride on, grinning to myself at what a cool set of tires Pirelli has come up with here.
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