Tag: Tiger 900

I spent the beautiful September day up in the north Georgia foothills, visiting my childhood chum Kent Giles (a military fiction writer) at his hermitage in Marble Hill, and tooling around the Jasper/Coal Mountain area on my last full day with the Tiger 900. A gloomy weekend of rain had given way to abundant sunshine, cool breezes, and being a Monday, largely empty back roads. Diving the Tiger through curves and corners, I suddenly came upon a tight, right-turner that I couldn’t see through. Downshifting and scrubbing off some mph, I shifted weight and leaned through the curve, only to find a patch of wet, right at the apex, laden with an amalgam of brown/red leaves and corner grit. No braking, a slight roll off the gas, and some considerable anal pucker, but the Tiger held the line, tracked through without a hiccup, and I continued on my merry way. Albeit, a bit more measured, we’ll call it.