mrzip66

I follow very few blogs out there. I find most to be trivial and full of shit. the ones I like are the ones of people who really ride, love riding and think about why they love it. Maybe its because I question everything, and I’ve never nailed that down.

Rob Dale is a guy I follow his blog. We couldnt be more opposite: he’s a christian preacher, and I’m an atheist. He’s a Canadian, I’m an American. He’s a senators fan, I’m a penguins fan. But at the end of the day, we both love riding. I’d like to meet him some day and buy him a beer.

Anyway, his blog post today got me once again wondering why we do it.     Seriously, I have no fucking clue why I’m so drawn to 2 wheels over 4.     I can’t pin it down, other than a few reasons:

I watched an old Hells Angel Documentary from the early 80s that had an HA member saying “there’s that one kid in every school, who never fit in, who couldnt be told, and he’s the guy that ends up a hells angel.  He fits here.”.   I’m not 1%  (maybe I’m 2%), but I get that.     I’ve never struggled with popularity that I cared too much about, but I know I don’t fit in the standard hole of a standard peg.   I’m good with that.   Maybe that has something to do with it.

There’s something about the road that just resonates with me.   My dad loved to fly.  had a plane.   He found peace in the sky.   I liked flying, but I remember tracing the roads from the plane through the clouds, and imagining myself on them.     Who knows where that came from, but its a real memory.

I also remember my first real street bike.  It was 1988.   I’d had a dirt bike since I was 11, and I remember heading back from living in Long Beach CA on it, and about the time I got out of Cajon Pass it hit me:   Holy shit, there’s  peace out here.   Something happened.

I remember getting emotional as I pushed that bike off the back of my truck at the dump, and thinking it was like an old girlfriend:  If I cant have it, no one can.   It had given up the ghost.   I didnt have the money to fix it anymore, and I’d thrown 2 engines in it already.
So here I am, wondering if bikers are born, or they’re made.   Maybe I was made, but I think Bikers are born.   I have friends who own bikes and barely care.   I know if I go 2 days, no matter what the weather I start going nuts.   I need to see the world from that bat wing faring.

So the question is:  Are bikers born or made?    Are we a dying breed?   I’m not talking about the guys who own a bike and love the occassional freedom of a saturday ride.  I’m talking about the guys who have to ride.    I can tell you, I know I have to ride.

But thats just me.  What do you think?

been working a lot lately.   Doing something B.A.C.A. almost every night it seems.  on some level or another.

Doing the 100 mile ride in 10 days.   That means every chapter in utah is riding to St. George to ride, plus the public.   we’re planning the whole thing, and its going great.     We’re on top of it.

Then, 2 weeks after that is the mexican Hat party.  I can’t take any credit for it, other than it was my idea and plan.   Everyone else ran with it from there.    Especially drifter, from the moab chapter.   He took the bull by the horns and got it done.

Once all this is done, I’m going to ride somewhere and see something new.   Somewhere I havent been, and get a whole new point of view on life.

First off, I don’t give a fuck whether you think I’m a biker or not.   I may be, I may not be, based on how you view bikers.    I don’t weld for a living, work in a mine or am a hand on an oil well.      I’m not a 1%er, even though I have a lot of friends who are.    I may not ride the bike you think a biker would ride.

Fuckit, all I know is I need to ride.   It’s not a want.  Straight up, it’s a need.

I’m also a father.   A business owner.   A husband.   I’ve also made a pledge to protect abused kids, even at the sake of my life.   I’ll do all four.

So last night I scoped out ballarat California and death valley as my late winter ride.   Man, I want to go.   I stare down the barrell of my calendar and I see the whole state of utah coming to my chapter in a few weeks for our annual 100 mile ride.   I see a party in mexican hat that was my idea, for my B.A.C.A. Brothers and sisters on an idea I had last year.     I see child rides, to help abused kids that I’ve sworn to be their sheild.    I’ve got 120 employees who depend on me to get things done and to make the right decision.  I’ve got mothers day.   Not to mention, I’ve got kids who need a day to day with their old man.

But dammit, I’ve got to ride.    I thought on the way home… I’ve got pressures in my life that I’ll never tell you about.    Riding gives me the focus to get my rockability back.   Gotta keep all the balls in the air, and at the same fucking time, I gotta be happy about chucking those balls up.    I gotta live.

This weekend, my plan was to ride to California.   I may or may not end up going.    I might take my wife on the bike.  My kids might go in the truck.    Hell, I don’t know now.  It’s gonna be a game time decision.

Responsibility is a bitch.

But I’m probably no different than you, am I.   You balance your life and pressures and at the end of the day, you throw your leg over your bike, point it somewhere, and find your soul in some way or another.   Riding is truly freedom.   People that don’t ride will  never truly  understand.

Thats one of the things I love about riding:

First, it drains your stress… this takes the longest.   There’s a whole lot of bullshit in life that gets built up.      Sometimes, it takes hours for it to all go away.   The road will fix it eventually.   Just keep riding.   Cracked blacktop, open throttle and good music at 75 mph will cure about any evil I know of.

Then, It opens your mind. You start to see things how they are.   How you want to make em.   The ideas flow again.   Ideas about family, life, work.     That’s stage 2.   once stage 1 is fixed, stage 2 goes quickly into stage 3:

Then, it opens your soul. In my experience, I start feeling again.   Imagining.   Loving life.    Feeling Life.   Man, its the best part.   You start breathing it in, ready to kick ass again.   Ready to be a good dad.   Ready to make some money.   Ready for whatever life is gonna throw at you, because you’re not young…. you know life is gonna throw shit.   Life…. bring that shit on.   I’ll own you.

That’s when music starts sounding good on the road.    I don’t care if its from your ipod, or your batwing faring stereo.

Once those 3 are fixed, man… youre a human being again.

It’s been a long winter.   I need to be a human being again.   Real Men get life pressures that only a man might know about, if he’s a man.

I think I’m heading out to ballarat this weekend, after my BACA child ride.   I’ll go cheap, and hopefully get all three.   I’d be happy if the first one happens, but what will power me up for weeks is if the other 2 happen.   Only the road knows if that’s gonna be.     Can’t wait.

I’m countin’ on you, to carry me through…

I love this song.     I have past memories, and future plans to listen to this as I wake up on the side of the road, find me some coffee as I shake the dew off my tent and look at a map at 7:30 in the morning.     Feeling the effects of a pint of somethin’ something’ I bought in a town 200 miles away, but looking forward to a new day of riding.   I’ll load that tent, roll up my sleeping bag that will serve as my back rest for the next 600 miles today, turn on my ignition and wonder what the song is in my stereo.    I’ll start my bike, turn down the volume from the night before, and point my bike toward a gas station since I’m in a town with gas and I’m not sure if the next town has any.   Once I’m out of town, I’ll tab down on my hand controls to find this song and realize how free I am today.     I’ll probably leave that town hungry, with the ambition to make miles today, and the expectation to find a diner or a 7-11 to find lunch at.   Hell, to be honest, I don’t know, and that’s what makes a good ride.

“Gimme the beat boys to free my soul, I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away”

You may or may not know the feeling.   I know I do.   It’s the feeling of adventure.   The feeling of  whats over the next rise, of riding the bike that you love across vast territory of nothing to hit the next town to find a gem of something good that will make you wonder.  To me, living in the openness of the west, that’s why I ride.   this song seems to hit that for me.

I have my daughters birthday this weekend.   I also have a B.A.C.A. car show I’ve done three times now this weekend.   I’ll do both, because I love both, but next weekend, I’m pointing my bike somewhere.   I gotta get lost in that rock and roll and drift away.   I gotta.

Day after day I’m more confused So I look for the light in the pouring rain You know that’s a game that I hate to lose I’m feelin’ the strain, ain’t it a shame

Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away Beginning to think that I’m wastin’ time I don’t understand the things I do The world outside looks so unkind I’m countin’ on you to carry me through And when my mind is free You know a melody can move me And when I’m feelin’ blue The guitar’s comin’ through to soothe me Thanks for the joy that you’ve given me I want you to know I believe in your song Rhythm and rhyme and harmony You help me along makin’ me strong