Another Day, Another Quest, and More Cowbell

In days of yore, people of like lineage would depart their homes on journeys of purpose traveling together in a vehicle called a “station wagon”. While inside these vehicles there were numerous calls and chants for unity such as “Are we there yet?”, “Dad, my sibling is on my side of the car!!” and “I have to go to the bathroom!”. Such chants were punctuated by the lyric telling of tales regarding bottles of beer that somehow defied gravity by staying on the “wall” without visible means of support, until they were taken down and passed around. Another well-known tale was that of a canine whose name starts out identical to a number and letter based game of chance but then slowly degrades into a series of percussive slaps of the hand. Nevertheless, I digress-O.

Three years ago there was a journey undertaken by a man, one of his progeny, and a hound of incredible intelligence. The goal was to visit the father’s father who had recently acquired a medical marvel known as a “new shoulder”. The routing took them from the wilds of Michigan, to the Rock n Roll Hall of Fame, through West and Regular Virginia (where they visited another of the sons and his recently acquired love interest) then on the destination. Be assured the route home was no less wandering.

  

At some point during the journey, the trip itself became known as the “The Quest for More Cowbell” even though the trail was littered with stickers saying “AYBABTU”.

The following year the trip took on a new dimension as only the father and son were traveling and even though four wheels were again involved, this time there were two vehicles with two wheels each. The goal was circumnavigation of Lake Michigan and stops included the Harley-Davidson Hall of Fame and a place of mystery and wonderment known as Sheboygan with a secondary visit to Cheboygan. This was known to both a disinterested public and an ignoring press as “The Quest for More Cowbell II”.

On May 18. 2011, two strong, fearless, unconquerable and incredibly handsome travelers will again depart home and head out seeking fame, fortune, adventure… and of course more Cowbell. The journey will include stops in Columbus, Ohio and Wabash, Indiana. The goal that will be reached between these two bookends is the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee and a legendary Dragon begging to be slain. This adventure will forever more is known in lore, song and in my blog as: “The Quest for More Cowbell III”.

Face it,  life is better with more cowbell.

2444

I Met Her On Line...

When I approached her place, I saw her standing off to the side near the garage.  I parked and then got out and walked over to her.  Two thoughts ran through my mind, the first was that her picture in no way did her justice; she was gorgeous.  The other was that for some reason she sounded taller on line, it is odd how the mind fills in the blanks.As I got closer, I let my eyes wander over her and realized that she was only wearing a bra -- it made me smile.  When I reached her I purposely walked right past her, not wanting to let her know how much I really wanted to stand and stare.  Walking to her ass, I placed my hand on it and then let my hand glide up her body as I walked around her slowly.  She stood totally still and did not say a word or move a muscle.  I knew I was making her mine. 

After circumnavigating her, I stopped on her right side then I reached out and caressed her in a way that I knew would cause her to react.  It did.  She shuddered and then moaned with a deep throaty sound.  The shudder then calmed and turned into a deep throbbing vibration -- I could not resist her charms any more.  In a heated moment, I mounted her hard. 

She moaned louder as I stroked her and felt her vibrations throughout my body.  I threw my head back and smiled letting the waves of her free spirit wash over me unbridled.  I was in ecstasy as I first gave into her wiles and then grabbed her with both hands.  I took control of her -- not to tame her -- but to make her mine. She released herself to me, letting me have her full passion. Then I heard a sound behind me -- but we were so taken with each other we did not care who saw us or what they thought.

Then I heard it....

"So, I am guessing you want to buy the bike, come on inside when you um finish whatever it is you are doing there -- but I am not judging you, man."

 

2422

It Is For To Ride...

I have tried since starting this blog to express in words how it feels to ride. It is one of the most difficult writing assignments I've ever undertaken. I'm trying to write about a spirit that moves through me as opposed to things that have happened to me.

I've just finished reading Hunter S Thompson's book Hell's Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs and at the end of the book is a fantastic few pages where he truly captures the spirit of what it is like to be on a motorcycle. He talks about what it feels like to ride and need to feel the freedom that goes with it. That excerpt is at the end of this entry.

This season when I started riding, I started concentrating on what it felt like from the point when I first got on the bike, through the ride, and at the end when I finally dismounted. I will share those observations with you now since I am not going to be happy until I somehow capture something as well as Thompson did.

When I ride, from the minute I sit down on that seat and put on my helmet I feel the same sense of immortality and freedom that I had when I was 17. That doesn't mean that I don't think about consequences of actions but I don't concern myself with them because I know I've done what I can to minimize the risk. There is nothing left to worry about, because everything else is beyond my control. That's where the next set of feelings comes into play.

Every day I make hundreds of choices that have significant effect on people and things while I'm at work. Most of them are based on experience and my best judgment. That is what I'm paid to do. Nevertheless, for every one of those decisions that I make on the job there is someone above me who holds me accountable and can change things because they choose to. That secondary level of judgment doesn't exist on a bike.

Once I start, riding every decision that I make affects me directly and at the same time, I am the only one who is responsible for what happens. That means if I judge a curve wrong or if I'm not paying enough attention to traffic around me and something happens to a large degree I am the only one to blame. There are of course those instances when a driver just isn't paying attention and comes out of nowhere to cream a biker – – no one can do anything about those instances.

When I am riding, I become one with the machine. We react and act together as one being. I rely on her and she relies on me. It is a symbiotic relationship. Even though it is a machine and there is no God in the machine, there is an understood relationship between the two of us. Neither of us can let the other down without horrific effects to both.

Music is very important when I ride because it allows me to release my creative self in a way that nothing else does. When you couple that release with all the other feelings I have when I ride, it is the most opportune time for me to allow myself those feelings. It is like taking a good feeling and multiplying it by 10. The act of riding in itself is a high and the music just takes it that much higher.

I don't think when I ride. That is not to say that I'm not thinking about the ride itself or about the music or about the prettiness of the scenery what it means is that I'm not allowing things outside of me to cross my mind and trouble me while I'm on my bike. There are too many things going on at the same time and it crowds out all the bad crap of the day and doesn't allow that crap to affect the joy that I am feeling while I'm riding. This is an escape that I feel only while riding and during no other activity.

To me riding is poetry without words, art without pictures, touching pure spirit without a medium, flying without a plane and mind blowing sex without taking your clothes off.

Well friends that is the best I've been able to come up with so far. It still is something I'm completely satisfied with but at least I'm working on it. I think that every time I do this little exercise I come up with more and more things I'm feeling and thinking when I ride. I'm sure each of you that ride knows exactly the difficulty I'm talking about; you can identify how difficult it is to describe the experience. I was once told that no one can adequately describe something like love because it is a feeling and emotion too deep for words – – maybe that's true for riding as well.

The one thing that I'm sure is true is that there is no way that anyone who has never been on the back of a bike could possibly understand any of what I just wrote. There are blanks in it that can only be filled in by having experienced the freedom that comes from riding down the road being totally in charge of your own actions and having the wind in your face and hair. Awesome.

Now I will share another viewpoint on riding from Hunter S Thompson from his book Hell's Angels: The Strange and Terrible Saga of the Outlaw Motorcycle Gangs. I will say that I was never a big fan of his writing until I read this book but I thought that the book itself kind of missed the mark as it did not shed any new light on why people were motivated to do what they do. I would've passed it off as just a decent read until I read the final words in the book. Start at the third paragraph.

2257

We Be Jammin' - A Subway Musical

I was in Washington DC taking a five-day course at NDU. One of the days was to be spent going to a computer symposium in the center of the city. If you've ever been to DC, you know that the best way to get in and out of the center of the city is by the Metro. So, I took off early Tuesday morning and headed downtown using the Metro. I bought my ticket and stood on the platform waiting to get on the first train that was going to take me to Metro Center, while I waited I took my iTouch out of my shoulder bag and plugged in my earbuds and put them on. I flipped on the music and was instantly transported somewhere far away from the subway station. I had learned long ago that one of the ways to make the Metro ride more enjoyable was to bring your own music.

I caught the Blue Line train and all was well until we got to the station at Foggy Bottom I thought I heard the conductor say something about the Blue Line terminating – – I was supposed to ride this train all the way to Metro Center. Since it looked like everyone was getting off I jumped off as well rather than riding a train to wherever they go when the terminate (Subway Car Heaven?). I figured at worst I would have to wait for the next Blue Line train, which would be along in about 10 minutes. So while standing on the platform listening to my music I started to do what I normally do.

I find it hard to listen to good music and stand still. I tap my foot, I shake my head in time to the music, I move my hands, and I do just about anything but stand in one place. When the Allman Brothers Ain't Wasting Time No More came on I probably was moving a little more than usual. I was also looking around at all the various people in the station as I did this but suddenly when my I looked forward, I found a young woman of about 20 who was smiling at me. I started to take out my earbuds, but she shook her head and smiled pointing to her own earbuds – – then she held up the plug that was attached to the earbuds. I had to think about this for a minute, as I had never had anyone do anything like this.

I reached in my pocket, took out my iTouch, and held it out in front of me. I was holding on to it tightly because I still was not sure what was going on here and thought this might of been a ruse to steal my iTouch. She smiled and nodded and then removed my plug from the jack and slid hers in. Her eyes darted around the little and then they started nodding her head up and down, I can only guess in time with the music. She smiled again, took the plug for my earbuds, and plugged it into her iPod, which she removed from her pocket. It took a minute for me to recognize what kind of music it was – – some sort of techno dance number. When I looked at her, she smiled at me again and nodded her head – – I think it was her way of asking if it was okay with me. It wasn't bad so I nodded back. Then we stood there – – facing each other – – and enjoying each other's music.

She was doing a small impromptu dance to the Allman Brothers while I was kind of nodding along with whatever it was I was listening to. Suddenly the station filled with the sound of the arriving Orange Line train and she stopped dancing looked at me and smiled and waved as she pulled my jack out of her iPod and put it back into my iTouch then spun around and walked aboard the train. As the train started to pull out, she pressed her face to the glass and waved goodbye to me.

As I have said, I always try to say Yes to things – maybe that creates an aura of openness around me. It was just so unusual and so human to reach out the way she did and then she knocked down the walls of my fortress and invited me into hers so that we could share a few minutes together as human beings listening to music. As I reflected on this later in the day I wondered if I would ever be bold enough to do something like that to anyone.

When my train finally came along, I jumped on board and held onto the handrail as it pulled out of the station. I smiled about what just occurred to me in fact, I smiled a lot of the day because of it.





2152

February Score - Cabin Fever: 25, My Sanity: 3 (But I Still Won)

Several times over the winter I've gone out to the garage, pulled my Silverwing out placing it by the door, and started up to let it run. Originally, it was not my idea to keep my bike in the garage all winter long; my original plan called for full winterization and storage elsewhere. However, when the weather suddenly declined I was trapped, so I had added some Stabel to the gas tank, put her up on plywood squares, and added a cover to keep her from getting dirty. Not exactly full winterization, but sufficient to protect the bike.

I have actually been fortunate enough to ride every single month, at least once, since I bought the bike. This included December when I rode to work on a 30° day and January, when the temperature got up to 50° on the second. Now, I was sitting here in February under a foot or so of snow and roads that still had ice on them. Then came the forecast: three days of clear whether with a high of about 45° or so. They were mine.

The first day turned out to be a total loss. I got home late, and it was getting dark before I could even get the bike out of the garage. I checked the temperature and it had dropped below 30. Since all of the snow was melting this meant the roads had water on them that might refreeze, so – – I decided not to ride but to perform a safety check on my bike to make sure that everything was still working the way it should have been. It was.

The second day was perfect. I even managed to go work a little early, quickly came home, and changed so that I was ready to ride. I pulled the bike out of the garage, pointed her down the driveway and then climbed on board. I could almost hear Ghost Rider calling out "Let's ride…" as I fired up the engine. She started on the first try, a good omen. I sat there a few minutes allowing the engine to warm up and selected a good song for the ride. I had discovered while dressing to ride that my Q2 was not charged so I was using the stereo on the bike instead of my headset. Once I had some Bob Seeger playing, I released the clutch and rolled on the throttle.
As I headed down the driveway, I checked the front and back brakes to make sure that the grip was good. No problems there as I turned onto the road out of the driveway. I brought up the speed and laid her into her first turn. I talked before about muscle memory but really didn't know how much of a difference it was going to make until now, as I prepared to turn out of my street onto the main road I realized that I had to down shift out of second without ever remembering shifting into it. At some point, my body was acting and reacting as it should without conscious effort.

On the main road, I shifted through all the gears and was pleased with the way the bike reacted and quickly found myself traveling at about 70 miles an hour. I made the green lighting continued down the road, to where? Who cares… I was riding again for real. I put my feet up on the highway pegs and relaxed into the feel of the road and my bike.

Since the last time I really rode, I had lost about 30 pounds. I hadn’t really thought about what a difference this would make until now. When I was taking turns I had to add a little more muscle for the missing weight, it wasn't a bad thing, just little difference for which I had to adjust. I road down all of the main streets in town and then headed down a small stretch of highway that separates the East and West sides of the city. The bike was behaving beautifully; it was as if I had never spent a winter ignoring it in favor of a car.

I was kind of wandering aimlessly, just taking rights and lefts at will with no firm destination in mind. I realized it was getting colder because the sun was going down and I looked down to discover that I gone almost 40 miles. So, I turned around and headed home. Thus ended day two.

The forecast for the next morning had changed and it was supposed to rain. However, when I looked outside it was not raining so I jumped on my bike and rode to work. Smooth ride, a few surprised looks – – did I mention that I was the only bike on the road the day before? Work felt a lot better having ridden in, and it passed quickly which put me back on my bike riding on that afternoon. On the ride home I did see another bike – – crotch rocket with rider plus passenger. We nodded to each other as we headed down the roadway side by side. The passenger on the other hand, was either so surprised at seeing another bike or was just really jazzed about riding --- she was waving at me so vigorously that I thought she was going to affect the rider's balance. At one of the streetlights, they headed one way and I headed the other.

As I pulled in the garage, the rain started.

The weather forecast now had a snowstorm predicted for Sunday, but Saturday… Sunny and 40. As soon as the temperature hit 35, I jumped on the bike and was gone. I searched out many of my old runs down curvy country roads and even went by the location where my motorcycle safety class of been held so that I could ride that track. It was a full up blast.

When I finally got home, my son jumped on my bike and took off for a quick ride himself. He told me he saw at least two other bikes while he was out riding although I didn't see any when I was out earlier in the day.
The temperature dropped dramatically by the time my son got home, so as soon as he pulled it in I put the bike back up on the plywood and when it cooled, down covered it over again.

The next day the promised snow arrived and as I walked to the garage heading to the car, I patted my bike as I went by and said "Soon, Baby, soon"



2120

Yes. Yes! Yes!!

Note: When I started this blog, my intended goal was to explore my experiences as I started riding again after a long hiatus. To a large degree, that is what I have done. I also had an underlying desire to pass on things that I have discovered in my life or have experienced in getting to where I am on the calendar. This entry is more of an essay about one of those things then it is about motorcycles, although there is a whole paragraph about motorcycles below. I hope you enjoy this.


Now and then, when I take time to reflect on things that I've done or decisions I've made, I wonder why more often than not I have allowed myself to say “No” rather than “Yes”. Now granted, sometimes “No” is the most appropriate answer: "No, you should not use steel wool to wash the new car", "No, you can't put your sister in the trunk even if she fits", and so on. However, there are plenty of times when “No” was just the easiest answer rather than the response that I really meant or that would've opened a new door for me. Therefore, when I take time to think about it I wonder how much of life we are all missing because “No” is just plain easy.

Before you say to yourself "wasn't there a movie about this?" and stop reading this essay; I will tell you that “Yes” there was a movie about this. It was also very funny, and not even close to what I'm talking about here. In the movie, the protagonist always has to “Yes” to everything. What I am proposing is that before you answer; take a second to consider what the question is, what the ramifications are if you do say “Yes”, and what you're giving up by saying “No”.

Say “Yes” to sex:

(Leading with this topic was a simple choice since it is where many folks went when they read the title of this piece.) It is very easy to put this in a sexual context of “Yes” and “No”. Amazingly enough, when considering that “No” is easy you have to recall that what we learned in high school was that girl who said “Yes” was easy. If we consider how many times we have avoided physical intimacy just because “No” was an easier answer, wouldn't this be a great place to start to change that? In your mind turn things around, consider “Yes” as your automatic answer, and “No” as the one you really have to think about and plan.

I once had a very wise lover tell me "I don't get some people. I mean it feels so good...and it's free...and did I mention that it feels so good?...Why isn't everyone doing it every day? I just don't get it!" After the voices in my head stopped cheering for obviously selfish reasons, I started to consider what she might be saying underneath those words. In the end, I think the lesson to be learned from those words is: why have we made something so good and so pleasurable so complicated that saying “No” is the easier answer rather than saying “Yes”.

I am not suggesting that we all become hedonists or Libertines, what I'm suggesting is that we overcome our Puritan background and consider letting ourselves enjoy the pleasures that life can bring - and I do mean more pleasures than just sex. I would have to think if you are in a situation where an answer became necessary for a question about intimacy, you have allowed yourself to get into that situation. That being the case, why wouldn't “Yes” be the appropriate answer?

(Note:  Now that I have considered the sex question, I will now set about losing the male portion of my reading audience by looking at other parts of life where we should consider saying “Yes”.)

Say “Yes” to People:

I have an acquaintance at work, who asks me to join him occaisionlly to enjoy a beer or pizza after work. My life tends to be fairly structured and I like to go straight home after work so that I can work out and get dinner started. “No” is the easy answer. In order for me to say “Yes”, I would have to work out a bit later or skip that day and maybe pick up dinner on the ride home, if he and I were not sharing a pizza on that particular occasion. The effort to say “Yes” is just not that hard and in exchange I'll get: Spending a few hours with a co-worker, enjoying his company, and making lewd comments about the waitresses. Next time, I'm going to say “Yes”.

Say “Yes” to the Scary Things:

When I realized I was turning 50 (only had 5 decades to see it coming) I started looking at different things in my life that I wanted to do before I exited. One of them was to start riding again. Saying “Yes” was not easy at all: I had to be reacquainted by taking a class, pick up safety gear, steel my confidence and buy a bike. However, because I did say “Yes” I have a lot of great memories of the past year of riding and plan on stacking up even more this year and in the ones that follow.

In my case, saying “Yes” actually involved taking on real added risk but that risk can be reduced with proper equipment, training, and doing things the right way. So when you say “Yes” to the scary thing, also say “Yes” to try to reduce the risk associated with it.

Say “Yes” to the Hard Stuff:

As I've gotten older, people have started coming to me as a source of both sage advice and experience when needed to address specific problems. At work, these are usually called "opportunities to excel" in real life, this is known as volunteering. In the past few years, I have said “Yes” to several things that take up time and cause me extra work. They are not easy in terms of time or effort usually it is hard stuff. I could've turned these things down which would've been easy but I didn't. Instead, I said “Yes”, took on the extra effort, and reaped the rewards of knowing that I can truly make a difference and that they appreciate my skills and experience. In hindsight, saying “Yes” was actually easier than saying “No” because there was such a huge benefit to saying “Yes”.

Don't Accept “No” From Others:

If you start to turn your life around and start making the hard choice by saying “Yes”, you are going to start looking at decisions others make and wondering why they are not doing the same. Ask them. In many cases, you will find that there is something minor in their way. Ask the questions that allow you to find out the basis for the “No”. Sometimes you can remove whatever is blocking them and turn it into a “Yes”.

I once had to hand a worker a very difficult assignment and their response was “No”. I spoke to them about it and kept talking until the real reason for their “No” came out. I won't go into it here, but the reason was
trivial and with a single phone call, I was able to remove that roadblock and get them to say “Yes”. The extra effort was so worth it.

This tactic can be used with your friends and others -- take a minute to listen.

In Closing....

I don't mean to come off like the Wise Master talking to the Grasshopper in Kung Fu, I am just trying to share a vital lesson that I am only now beginning to appreciate. You have to learn it on your own. All I want you to try is giving “Yes” a chance. For the next few days, pause before you say “No” to anything – – then consider if this is just the easy thing to do or is it what you really want to do. I think that if you change your mind just once you have gotten benefit out of the words that I've written. If it turns into something that changes your life, I will consider these words a success.



1999

Surviving The Ravages of Winter

It has been just over a month since I've ridden. When I have had some time to let my mind wander, I have allowed it to recall some of the rides I took over the summer. Good memories. Can't wait until it gets warm enough to take the bike out again.

I backed her to the garage door the other day and fired her up. Well, first I had to charge the battery for 20 minutes then I fired her up. What a sound. A lot of people talk about the Harley sound (which is distinctive) or the sound of the Valkyrie (which once heard is unforgettable); both of my Honda’s have rather pleasing rumbles without being too rude or noisy. I sat down on her for a few minutes, feeling the vibrations of the engine and the welcome fit of the saddle. Wonderful.

I have been reading some reading stories lately and they all mention “muscle memory”. Basically, it is your body remembering and reacting to tasks that it has done repeatedly in the past. When riding it is what allows you to get better and more confident the more you ride. I am wondering though, how much of that do you lose over the 3-4 months of the year when you can’t ride.

When skiing season started every year, I would take the time to confirm my skills before going on the harder runs. I would do 3 or 4 runs on each level of introductory slopes before moving up in difficulty. This was my way of insuring my skills were still there and how I insured I knew what my body changes over the summer were going to affect my skills (weight loss/gain, age, or injury). As I start thinking about the start of the next riding season (now 71 days away), I am starting to consider what I should do to get into the groove again.

I took some time to look over my plan for developing skills that I used last year and I think I may already have a blueprint to get me in back into the saddle safely and confident in my skills. Of course, I will move through the levels somewhat quicker since I am sure some muscle memory remains.

Planning on a run to the Tail of the Dragon with my son and some friend in May, if all goes as planned. It will be a great weekend of riding and a terrific memory too.

Come on spring!

1971