Here's an example of why I love her:
June 22, 2007
I left work 180 miles into a tank of gas so I was pretty sure I'd run dry before I got home. Intentionally running out of gas is not the most stress-free of events on a busy freeway. At first I stayed in the slow lane but dealing with all the merging cars while waiting for my bike to cut out sucked so I went back to the fast lane.
Everything was fine until I was approaching the elevated freeway: I really couldn't remember if there was any space to break down in. I had to make a decision on whether to risk it or to play it safe and take surface streets the rest of the way home. And so began my internal discussion:
Angel: Take the next exit. Be safe.
Devil: Take the skyway. Even if you run out of gas and there's no shoulder, you're pointed downhill.
Angel: You might be pointed downhill, but you'll continually lose speed until a car plows into you.
Devil: Trust me, you won't run out of gas.
Angel: I know you're hungry and want to get home and have dinner, but this will just be an extra few minutes.
Devil: If you were a dog, those few minutes would actually be an hour.
Angel: You're not a dog. Take the next exit.
Devil: Because you're expecting to run out of gas on the skyway, it won't happen. It would just be too perfect for a blog entry.
Angel: This is not a game with a replay button. Don't put yourself at risk when there's a fine alternative.
Devil: Chicken...bok bok!
Bok bok? Well that settled that. I blow by my last-chance exit. Just as I'm entering the skyway and I'm sure I'll emerge without incident on the other side, the bike sputters and announces it's done. Fortunately where I was at there was still a decent amount of shoulder room so I gracefully pulled off. Without even dismounting I reached around to my tail bag and pulled out my bottle of gas and emptied it into the bike. The Monster fired right back up and I was on my way. Final mileage: 194.4. I'm sure I can break 200 in normal touring conditions.