"Drive it like a car, but act like you are on a motorcycle," were the words of wisdom bestowed upon me before the keys were handed over, and the advice couldn't have been more accurate. During the next four days, I zipped blissfully around town with the wind blowing through my hair as I watched the front wheels articulate over the pavement. I could smell the ocean as I drove down Pacific Coast Highway, and taste the dry brush of the Santa Monica Mountains as I toured the canyons.
I also took a bumble bee in the cheek, was nearly squashed by an inattentive driver in a Toyota Camry, cut off by a Ford F-150 and I was stared down by the law at every opportunity.
Apparently, that's the price of having the wind blow through your hair as you mount a low-slung, agile steed with a very unique three-wheel configuration.
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