So today (late March) was my first "hard ride" of the year. Took a route that I've taken a dozen or so times last year (WV hwy 9 through the mountains into Paw Paw, WV). I was in full riding gear (new leathers, new helmet, etc), and the bike was responding quite well to the just under 60 deg temperature. It was about 1:00pm and the wind was pretty gusty (news says 21mph).
There are few things in life I enjoy as much as an uphill right hand 25 mph corner. About 50 miles into my ride, there it was. One of the most perfect corners I can find. I approach it out of a left hander in third gear. Bang down into second, hug the center line slide my ass to the right, watch the exit and glance at the tach, a perfect 9k (later experiments have 2nd gear @ 9k = indicated 62mph). Things don't get any better than this.
As soon as I drop into the corner the peg starts to drag. No biggie, been there, done that. Then it starts to fold up, been there too; then folding up hard. I know I'm grinding more than peg at this point, but no biggie, another scar on the can won't hurt. Then it happens.
In a nano second the ass end lets loose. Well, I've played that game before, but not to this degree. It gets out about 2 feet by the time I manage to get hard on the gas. Then it highsides. Well, not a full highside because I'm here to tell about it and I never went down. It was the kind I've only seen on T.V. (or at the track). The bike snaps from angle probably around 35 degrees to straight up. It throws me, both feet off the pegs in the perfect inverted "V" and my ass about 18 inches off the seat. The bike does 3 or 4 quick but harsh waggles and then back down I come and all is well.
Now thinking about it, I suppose it should have scared me, but all I could do was yell "Woooooo" at the top of my lungs. My heart rate didn't even raise! (okay, well obviously my heart rate did raise, but the point is that it thrilled me more than scared me)
I stopped and went back looking for marks, etc. Nothing visible other than the white line of my peg digging in. Looking at my rear tire, it's like someone took sand paper and went horizontal across the entire right edge of the tire right off the edge. The previous scrape on the can got a bit wider. Pretty lucky, pretty cool.
While stopped, I took my glove off and found (what I believe to be the reason for all this) that my tire was barely warm. Damn, I guess riding hard on the 207's needs a few more degrees. I run the rear end at 36 psi so it heats up quicker, but not today.
Anyhow, that's my story. Definitely the closest I've come to wadding without going down. For the rest of my life, I'll smile a bit wider seeing folks repeat my aforementioned act, as I know the rush they're going through. However, if I never experience it again first hand that'll be just fine with me.