I was raised by wolves. Very kind, very nurturing wolves. I love riding to a town a just barely learned the name of on a Friday, making a decision at the intersection to get myself lost 1000 miles away from home on a Saturday, and trying to figure out how the hell I can get home on a Sunday. Just ride a place and see a thing.
A good deal of these guys were just Farm kids, who were raised a way and knew the right thing. A lot of them were kids from the Bronx, Chicago and LA. Volunteers a lot of em. Kids from Canada to California to Maine and Florida. They answered the call.
I gotta think, it was a different day and age.
Most of these guys are gone now, but a few remain. D-day is a reverent thing. 9,000 of them didn’t make it out.
Someone sent me this video. A colorized version of the D-day landings. Thought i’d pass it on.
I never really had a bucket list. I just think I found one, and this is at the top.
The lower 48 states in the most efficient route a guy could take. In a car, its supposedly 113 hours. You biker pricks know it’d take a lot longer for you.
6,872 miles. A guy named Steven Von Worley apparently did the math, and this is what he came up with. Starts in South Berwick Maine and ends in Taft, Montana.
Iron Butt Association, eat your heart out. Someone is gonna do it, if they already haven’t. You BMW/sporty-bike guys can eat a bag of hell. Someone needs to do this on American Iron.
It was important to my father that he wouldn’t be forgotten. Dad, I’m pretty sure that anyone who knew you hasn’t. An old pic of my dad as a young buck:
Friday night after work, the missus and I jumped on the bike and headed to Goblin Valley for the annual Mexican Hat Party. They’d changed it up this year, and it wasn’t at Mexican Hat, it was at Goblin Valley. We loaded up the bike the night before, and took off from work at 5 to head over the pass. The goal was to get there before dark. It wasn’t gonna happen.
Missus Zip nabbed a selfie right before we hit the pass. heh, I just said Selfie.
It’d been warm all week. I was looking forward to this ride. I’ve been in this neck of the woods long enough that I’ve figured out who my friends were. Solid people that I felt I had gotten to know well, and more that I knew I wanted to get to know better. This was the ride for that.
I have a connection with Mexican Hat. Years ago, I rode through there in the dark with my daughter Wendy on the back of my bike and thought it would be a killer place to do an old school biker party. bring a bedroll, your girl, some whiskey and camp out in the dirt, old school style. We did the first one in 2009 and it kept going. I’m glad it kept going…
Most everyone had ridden up earlier that day. The ride was beautiful, and warm. At least warmer than usual.
This was a a perfect tune up ride.
I’ll tell the rest with pictures. What happens on the mile, stays on the mile. I didn’t take many pictures, and the ones I have I stole from friends. All I can say is I had a blast. So did missus Zip.
Saturday morning. We all feel a breakfast is in order, in town.Getting ready to roll.
Our Camp. My brother Trigger took this picture while we were gone. He would get a new name before the day was done….Hanksville Breakfast. Cho made a funny….Duke’s SlickRock Grille. Everything was John Wayne themed.Rolling back to campCho and RushThe Missus and I
Settling back inCho, Myself, Rush, Missus Zip and TellRush and I, being… well, Dumb.My Bro, and Prez.Someone left the good chairs unattended.My friends. Solid People.Later on…Sunday Breakfast in Green River.
Fuel for the fire. I had a killer weekend. Mexican Hat is exactly what I’d hoped it’d be.
