Out Riding

I led a ride yesterday. In order to lead a ride, I had to take more than several “test-runs” earlier in the week, one of them with my brother. The trials were not all that successful, but even though I didn’t complete the route during the test-run, I learned what would work and what would not work; what roads to take and what roads we could not navigate, or were closed due to repairs and a detour was required. I also learned not to rely on the GPS completely. Great as a guide, but not the final authority.

If you want to know how a typical group motorcycle ride works, read this previous blog post.

All 14 of us had a great time riding the Maryland back roads and byways on a bright, sunny, delightful day. Not too hot, not cool … just right for Harleys and the smiles of the riders who enjoyed the ride that I led.

Life is short: get out, ride, and enjoy it!

Flipped

My brother and I got out our respective Harleys early yesterday morning and went for a “ride to nowhere” which we enjoy doing. Ten miles (16km) beyond where I live, we have many fine two-lane less-traveled country roads to explore.

Our practice is that when we reach a major intersection, we flip a coin. Heads, turn left; tails, turn right. Or tails, turn another way. Or heads, go that way… whichever… the point is, we’re out to ride and have fun.

Sometimes, we let that “twin thing” guide us. We would reach an intersection and whoever was in the lead would just turn, and the other would follow as if he knew it was our planned route. While I’m not much of a believer in mystery, I am convinced that I can sense what my brother is thinking and vice-versa — at least when we are relaxed and doing something fun.

We found a neat little hole-in-the-wall diner for lunch. We stopped for gas at a little gas station that still had a pump for “Ethel.” (Though it had a modern pump for 93 octane gas that our Harleys require.) We stopped for water. We stopped to watch a whole herd of … some large four-legged animal that I swore looked like Elk, but I know we don’t have herds of Elk in Maryland. We stopped to stretch and just admire the corn as high as an elephant’s eye.

By early afternoon, though, storm clouds were gathering on the horizon, so I set the GPS for “home” and we made it home safely.

What a terrific motorcycling companion. What a wonderful brother. What a great birthday ride!

First Ride – Bad Ride

My brother and his wife slept peacefully yesterday morning until after 11am. Even though we didn’t get to bed until 4:30am, I slept fitfully at best and decided to get up at 7am because I couldn’t sleep since my system is so conditioned to rising fully awake at 4am anyway. I read the paper, talked to my partner, and did some quiet housecleaning.

When J and his wife awoke, I had prepared a great brunch of home-made waffles, fruit, sausage, orange juice and coffee. We enjoyed catching up a bit. Then sister M came over and took J’s wife to visit some of our family while J and I went to go pick up his Harley rental.

The bike rental process went fine. Then J and I took off to pre-ride a group ride that I’m scheduled to lead next week. A pre-ride is riding the actual planned route to look for potential hazards, note the turns, and become aware of any possible problems or situations in advance of leading a whole group of riders there. A pre-ride builds confidence in that “I’ve been there before” and I can then concentrate more on the group when I’m leading it than on making certain I catch each turn.

This was J’s first ride on a Harley since he rode with me last August. He was a little rusty, but picked up his riding skills rather quickly after a few turns in a parking lot, plus some practice on stopping quickly.

Off we went… the first 65 miles were great. J loved the scenery and I enjoyed riding with my brother again.

We approached a turn onto a busy highway, which would soon be followed by a quick left onto another back road.

Unfortunately, the road we were on had a very steep incline as it approached the highway, then a stop sign. One literally was pointed to the heavens and then had to stop. Then accelerate quickly to join the flow of traffic on the highway.

No way… no friggin’ way. I lost my nerve, and almost lost my balance. J did, too. We couldn’t get the bikes going without potentially stalling or dropping them. Here we are, at the top of this hill, holding these darned heavy Harleys with our lug-soled booted feet, the bike’s brakes, and our balance. Gosh, one would think that after the same experience last year, I would remember and not do that to myself.

We realized that: a) we couldn’t go forward; b) we couldn’t turn around; and c) no way in hell I could lead a group through this torture. What we finally did was slowly walk our bikes backward in the curb lane until we got to the bottom of the hill and were able to turn around. Tuck our tales between our legs and go back home.

We got home safely and unscathed, if not feeling a bit sheepish. But that is what a pre-ride is for: to learn what potential problems there may be and avoid them. I will plot another route and J and I will go ride that some time this coming week, to make sure there won’t be any more problems like that hill again.

Life is short: know your limitations.

Not Another Poker Run

It seems that when a weekend day may free up on my schedule and I look for a motorcycle ride to join, it always seems as if there’s a ride to a poker run.

What’s that? You ride to a designated meeting place. You pay an entry fee, which is collected as a charitable donation to the event organizer’s designated charity. You get a map of a route to follow. You ride the route, and as you go, you pick up playing cards. At the end of the route, you put together your best poker hand. Prizes are given to people with the highest-scoring hand.

Can you spell b-o-r-i-n-g? Sorry, I know there are a lot of people who like events like this. I don’t. I never have. I don’t play cards, anyway. But that’s beside the point. The point is to ride along a route with your friends and help a neighboring club raise funds for its charity. I get it. But…

I really prefer shorter rides without some gimmick along the way. I need to offer to lead more such rides, which is why I offered to serve as a road captain anyway — to offer these kinds of rides as a choice to our club’s members. So rather that bitch about what other people are doing, I need to step up and assert some leadership.

News at 11…

[An American expression for “check back later for more information”]

Life is short: lead when you don’t want to follow.

Dehners’ First Ride

For a long time now, a boot store that I like was offering a great price on Dehner Patrol Boots. I figured that the sale would have to come to an end, so I decided to buy a pair of these boots with a 1″ wider calf and lug soles on them. The boot store does not carry Dehner Boots with lug soles, but can arrange to have the Dehner Company put them on and have the boots shipped to the buyer directly.

I like big lug soles on my boots because they help a lot when I need to maneuver my big, heavy motorcycle in tight spots. For example, yesterday I went to our local post office, and the only parking space available was on a slight downgrade. There was so much traffic around, I couldn’t back myself into the spot. I knew when I came out, it would require a lot of strength and traction to move the bike out of the space. These boots performed superbly: like a snow tire, the soles gripped the pavement and helped me to push my bike out of the space. Had my sole slipped — even a little bit — it would have been very likely that I would have dropped the bike. That’s enough of a reason why I wear lug-soled boots when I ride my Harley.

Now… to the video. Some readers may be “of a certain age” (like me) to remember the TV show “CHiPs” that was aired from 1977 to 1983. The show featured a couple of Dehner-booted bike cops. Every now-and-then, they would have a camera trained on one of the cop’s boots from behind, as he was operating his bike — usually chasing a bad guy.

I have that image in my mind — of a Dehner Boot on a bike while riding. I have produced similar videos like this before, but this is the first one while I am actually wearing “Dehner” (brand) boots (not something else) on this model of Harley-Davidson motorcycle.

Enjoy the “bootcam” video. Try to figure out where my camera was. I assure you, though, that my hands remained firmly on the grips, and I didn’t let go. Also, I didn’t have a passenger or someone riding beside me. Okay — go figure where my camera was. I’ll reveal the answer later.

Life is short: get booted and ride!

How You Know Your Other Half Isn’t a Biker

Here are some signs to confirm that your other half is not a biker:

  • It’s sunny and warm, and the other half presents a list of honey-do projects around the house, with demands to have them all completed by day’s end.
  • You say that you have to go see your aunt to check in on her… same sunny day… you go change into motorcycle boots and jeans. The other half looks at you and says, “you’re taking your bike? Really?” … no, I’m walking. Of course I’m taking my bike!
  • You have been getting pledges of support for a charity motorcycle ride. The big day comes. You get up early and put on your full biker regalia (jeans, club colors vest, biker boots) and the other half says, “we have to go grocery shopping, then to the home center to get stuff for the backyard project, then … ” (the list goes on.) Ummm… I have prepared you for a month now that I am leading a ride of hundreds of bikers today. It’s on the calendar. I’m outta here. (other half mumbles, “but we have all these things we “have” to do!) Uggghhhh
  • Time for the family dinner rolls around on Friday night. The other half seldom goes with me, and isn’t going tonight. I change into biker gear and begin moving the Harley out of the garage. The other half says, “where are you going?” … to the family dinner. “On your bike?” … no, I’m walking. Of course I am going on my bike. Why not?
  • Rumbling of a Harley is heard out on the driveway. A buddy has come by for a planned ride to the riding range for group practice. Other half asks, “where are you going?” … to the range… it’s on the calendar… it’s planned. “Why? You know how to ride.” … yep, but practice makes perfect.
  • An elderly friend calls and asks for some help moving some furniture in her apartment. I head to the garage, getting the Harley out. The other half asks, “are you going to her place on your bike? Why?” … why not? I don’t have to carry tools or equipment. Why not ride the bike to get there?
  • and the last way you can tell your other half isn’t a biker is a classic when he asks, “can’t you wear those boots you have on your feet for your ride?” … as he looks at a pair of dress cowboy boots worn with dress clothes for work. … nope, smooth-soled boots don’t work for motorcycle riding. That’s why I have so many pairs of motorcycle boots. The right boot for the right job…

There are times when I really wish my partner rode his own bike, but even when he could ride with me as a passenger, he was better at remembering what bikers do. He has forgotten that a biker will “think bike” any time he can ride it, even if not for a motorcycle-related event.

Don’t get me wrong: I love my partner. He’s not a biker, but makes up for it in many other ways.

Life is short: ride whenever you can!

On the Road

A buddy of mine took some pictures of me while I was riding my Harley last Saturday. I frequently choose to “ride sweep” which is the last one in the pack. It has a nice view of the bikes ahead. Here is what my view looks like:

And here is how I look when riding:


And again (look closely — I meant it when I said that Chippewa Firefighter Boots are the most comfortable boots I have worn while riding my Harley, especially on a hot day like it was when this photo was taken.)

And during a riding break:

That thing by my left cheek is a microphone, which is attached to my radio which I use to keep in contact with the ride leaders and other riders.

Stupid Is What Stupid Does

Can you spell o-u-c-h or b-u-r-n with permanent leg damage? Not to mention broken ankle territory? The sneakered foot of the passenger was this guy’s daughter. (Great example Dad set for daughter, huh?) Pic was taken yesterday of someone on a motorcycle ride with which I was involved.

This manner of dress on a motorcycle: How sad, how very silly. Dumb. Stupid.

Okay, catharsis over. Check back tomorrow for more regular stuff.

Life is short, ankles and legs are burnable and not expendable: WEAR LONG PANTS AND BOOTS!

Live Free and Ride!

Yesterday, I was involved with a charity fundraiser for the families of law enforcement officers who were killed in the line of duty. I led the pack, riding wing to the overall civilian event organizer. The wing position is second, to the right of the lead rider, who is on my left. (To make this very clear: I am not a sworn police officer. I was the lead Road Captain for a group of riders who belong to the same organized motorcycle rider’s group as I do. There was another man who was the overall event organizer for the supporters of this charitable fundraising event.)

What you see above is my view of the motor officers who escorted our ride. They ride ahead to stop traffic at intersections so the entire ride can ride through without stopping, and also to watch for our safety.

What you see to the left was my occasional view as an officer who had stopped traffic for us let the group ride past, then he rode past us on our left to catch up to the group of officers escorting us. So every now and then, we would hear a “whoop whoop” of a siren, and then see a motor officer whiz past us. Nice sight!

What you see below was a “behind me” view of what it looked like in my rear-view mirror. Pretty cool! I enjoy leading the pack, especially for a good cause.

For views of the some of the patrol boots that I saw, see last night’s post.

Life is short: live free and ride!