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.
My daughter Megan and her best friend Carla are just cool. They get it. They also make youtube videos every weekend and the last couple weekends they gave me the chance to get in on them. It’s all their idea, and I’m impressed with their editing skills with the material they make. Pretty cool. I guess my stage jame is “Jud”, and I gotta admit I love that they ask me to contribute a little.
My job was to give a shout out to their friends Mitch and Cameron. If they ever show up to the house to pick up my daughter someday, I want them to know the man they’ll be dealing with :). Thats right Mitch and Cameron, I AM crazy, and I LOVE my daughter. I’ll be waiting in the garage, cleaning my guns if you ever drop em off late 🙂
I’m sitting here in my small house, while my 5 year old daughter asleep 2 feet away from me. I’m formating the family computer, and listening to Ray Price on my ipod. I’ts one of those random moments that make you appreciate life that come out of nowhere.
One of the songs that instantly hits me like a ton of bricks is Danny Boy by Ray Price. My father loved this song, and sent it to me when I was on my mission. My father passed away in 1993, and this song always reminds me of him. It’s A great song. Thinking of my father and watching my daughter sleep reminds me how beautiful this life is, and how short it is.
Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.
But come ye back when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.
And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I well may be
You'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.
And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
I'll simply sleep in peace until you come to me.
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hRx-3O4oe5o&hl=en&fs=1]
I need to go on a long ass ride by myself. To think about the world, get my shit together and enjoy it all.
I want to pull over and sleep under the stars. Drink from my flask and watch a movie on my ipod. Put on my leathers, make about 600 miles, and listen to classic and punk rock.
Pat and I trailered the bikes to Phoenix. It was just too irresistible. Snow in St George, 80 Degrees in Phoenix. He got to St George Thursday night, and we got the trailer ready to pull all three bikes down to Phoenix the next morning.
Going to Phoenix tomorrow to do some riding for the first time in months. I’m stoked. Hopefully pat gets here tonight and we can head out at 0′ Dark Thirty and get on the road.
Changed the oil in my bike last night and I’m ready to roll
This is my garage tonight. Looks pretty damn good to me
I really had a good christmas this year. My kids all got what they wanted, and so did Mr’s Zip. I think overall it was one of the better Christmases we’ve had here.
What’d I get? Why, I got the coolest geek tool a man could ever want: I got an Iphone. I was originally asking for a blackberry storm, but reading all the reviews on it I lobbied to get an Iphone, and I’m really happy with it. I also got a great big thermos for my bike, a harley shirt, some DVD’s about WWII, and other stuff.
My business partner and good buddy clint came over christmas eve with his daughter, and we hung out till 1:30 AM. somewhere around 2 AM we were all in the living room opening presents. A first for us at that hour. Will that stick as a tradition? I have no clue. I doubt it. If clint hadn’t been there, I’d have been fast asleep (but not having near as much fun). I think our family traditions are that anything can happen at any time.
The kids all seemed really happy with what they got. That made me happy. Robyn as usual did her homework, and santa Rallied as well. We even had the first white christmas that I can remember in the desert. Snowed all night, and even a bit the next day. It was near perfect.
The next day we loaded up the dodge and headed up north to see Robyn’s folks in northern Utah.
As usual, robyn went shopping with her mom, and Ricky and I drove through the frozen tundra to quite possibly the coolest place I’ve ever seen in northern utah: The shooting star saloon.
Built in 1879, it’s one of the oldest continually running saloons west of the Mississippi. According to the bartender there of 25 years, one of 3. She said it has continually served alcohol since that date, even through prohibition. Its an awesome place. The bars and counter are supposedly original, and when we showed up Johnny Cash was playing on the jukebox. They even serve Guinness. Whats not to love? We had a couple beers, a burger and the conversation was good. I’ve known Robyns Dad for 19 years now, and I’ll always remember this trip. My father-in-law and I, I think are more alike than not, and I enjoy his point of view and he’s the kind of guy that everyone likes. The shooting star is a place that I’ll always remember and want to go back to. It’s just an original. I need to take Robyn there. It even has a stuffed st Bernard hanging on the wall. If those walls could talk…
Later that night Robyns’ brothers and their wives all came over, we had dinner and opened presents. All in all, a great night. Another year older and hopefully wiser. I like robyns Family alot.
Sunday afternoon, we headed through morgan and onto my moms house to give her presents and wish her a happy christmas and new year. We got her a digital camera. I think she really liked it. Once she gets used to it, she’ll really love it I think. My mom is a creature of habit, and has used a polaroid ever since I can remember.
After that, we headed down provo canyon and up to Pat and Staci’s house. My kids were excited to hang with their cousins, which was a thrill for me since, on my side of the family, that rarely happens. Quite honestly outside of my brother pat, they hardly know their cousins.
Pat Gave me a present that I’ll ALWAYS remember. We’ve ridden all summer, and it’s changed how I ride, and gave me something that outside simple geneology I’ve never had: A brother. From early spring to late fall we’ve done a lot of riding in 2008. We’ve laughed, ridden, argued, and gotten to know each other, and quite frankly he is my finest friend. He is my blood, my brother and made me feel for maybe the first time In my 40 years on this earth outside of my wife and kids that I am not alone. We think alot alike and enjoy the same passions for Harleys, travel and family. Within 5 minutes of walking in the door he gave me a custom labeled bottle of Scotch that reads:
ALAN and PAT DUNN 2008
“Eagles Don’t Flock”
Because we “Color Outside
of the Lines” and share
the Passion of the Open Road.
Don’t Think…..Just RIDE!”
I’ll never drink that bottle of Scotch. I’ll hand that down to my kids. I’m getting misty thinking about it now. It means alot to me. Very thoughtful gift. We’ll ride again hard in 2009, and next year I’ll do the same for him.
We left Pat’s house in Draper this morning and went and visted my 96 year old Grandma. She is a wonder. I would put her spirit up against anyone a third her age. Grandma Tregeagle is every bit a pillar to my family as my father was, maybe moreso.
Her gait is strong, her fingers are ungnarled and her conversation is incessant. Everyone tells me she is slowing down, and to be perfectly honest, I just don’t see it. I need to take her for a ride on my bike. I love my grandma Tregeagle. I hope some of who she is is passed down to my girls. I am lucky to be of her stock. Ethel B Tregeagle is a monument to living in the moment with an eye to tomorrow. Having a heartful of principles and common sense has made her live as long as she has, I believe.
One of the interesting things that she told me, and she beams as she tells it, is the story of how she knows who she is now. Her father took a steamship in the 1880’s to the U.S. from England, then somewhere along the way changed his name to Belmont. My Grandma has always loved geneology as long as I have known her, and her family line on her fathers side ended with her fathers name change. Her whole life she has searched to fill that gap. With the internet and close friends, she finally found the ships log that her father crossed the atlantic with, and pieced together her lineage and her fathers real last name: Patch. He eyes shined as she told me and my wife: ” I am a Patch”, then continued on in the way that she does about her family, as I raced to keep up and follow her story. As I get older, the importance of who we are, where we come from becomes more and more important to me. Now, after all these years, my Grandma Tregeagle knows even more who she is: She is a Patch. She is a helluva woman.
I’m home now, back to where the snow has melted and where I can hopefully ride my bike to work tomorrow. All in All, I had a Christmas I’ll always remember. Good God, I’m getting old. The Things that are most important in life are becoming more and more important. It just keeps getting better.