I decided to contribute a poem of my own. This is written through experience of having owned two Viragos, an 86 and an 83 (the 83 I still own). Of course everyone knows about the infamous Virago starter drag, because every one who sees me at a stop light or in a parking lot says, "I used to own one just like it... REAL HARD to start in the mornings, huh? Yeah, mine did too... it's the starter... trust me, the starter." And then they walk off.

So I wrote this poem to characterize the Starter Drag phenomenon and share a little comical insight for those who don't own Viragos and don't understand to what we refer.

The Cruise

Long highway, trees grass and scenery,
No one on the road, no one but me,
I can see the signs flash by in a heartbeat.

The sky is a thoughtful blue,
The road a dirty grey,
Riding my Virago is perfect for this day.

To cruise the open road without a helmet is crazy,
Speeds roaring, screaming, reaching upwards of 80,
There's a cop ahead, he might pull me over - maybe.

With the wind in my hair and sun to my back,
bugs in my teeth and my rain gear all packed,
I adjust my shades and scratch the itch in my crack.

Leather ripping, flapping, fluttering in the wind,
On this long trip my highway pegs are my best friends,
Approaching my destination, my ride slowly comes to an end.

All this came from my mind, you see,
A figment how things ought be,
And this sincerely makes me sad...
You see, my Virago won't start...
BECAUSE OF THIS DAMN STARTER DRAG!

5/98