The night that I crashed wasn't really a fun night, but, before all of the pavement surfing shenanigans I had a chance to really feel the Mille shine and it left a lasting impression... I was following a few friends out to an area on our way to see some people and there's a short tunnel going under an airport runway on the way out there, I decided this would be a great place to really let 'er loose and enjoy that big twin. As the tunnel approached I downshifted until she was sitting around 7k rpm, the sweet spot, and waited for the entrance to the tunnel. As soon as I cracked the throttle she let out a strong bark and went skyward just like I expected, a slight throttle turn and she came softly back down to the ground just in time to almost hit the limiter as I clicked 2nd gear into play and grabbed another handful of loud. The tunnel walls were booming a wail that could only be described as "soul-stirring" as she twitched her head a little bit and sent that front wheel up yet again. There was no letting off this time, throttle pinned, wheel hovering, and nothing but noise. A slight shift of my body to the left told the Mille exactly where she needed to go and we deftly corrected our exit line with the rear wheel struggling between grip and slip. Flashing red, time to click up. Finding 3rd gear was instant, with a slight drop she touched down and picked right back up with a slight waggle and a determination to reach those triple numbers on the speedo. The reverberating sounds of big piston power in my helmet were pure bliss. With just under half of 3rd gear left she set down calmly and controlled and rocketed toward the end of that tunnel. 4th gear was just a snick away and now we're tucked and hauling, but it's to be no more. I roll the loud grip forward and let her settle before coming back down off of cloud nine. This is why I ride. Needless to say, my shit-eating grin was almost too big to contain inside that helmet. And so far, that's my last good memory of the Mille. Until next time we ride.