Random Thoughts

Riding means different things to different people.    There’s no right or wrong in riding.   100 miles to some, means 1000 miles to another.

• Waking up in the morning, to see your bike is still outside your motel room.  She’s ready to do some miles today, like an old friend.
• The smell of a pasture as you ride by it, knowing its different, and that its going to pass quickly.
• the chill of morning, knowing it will  warm up every mile.
• The evening phone calls to your loved ones.   Needing to know they are safe, but knowing you’ll come back to them a better man.
• The breaks out in the middle of nowhere.
• Driving through main streets of towns that have known better, but pride keeps them rolling on.
• The exploration of new roads, sometimes determined at intersections.
• sitting on your bike at midnight, hearing the world rushing by in distant cars, with your bedroll laid out 10 feet away.
• Sitting on your haunches with a map in your hand, while a biker you don’t even know pulls up and asks if you need help, and means it.
• seeing a B.A.C.A. patch of a chapter member you don’t even know, In a town you’ve never been to.   Knowing you’re doing your part.
• Wondering if you’ll make it home by sunday night, 800 miles away and still riding.
• The worries of your life that are all yours, melting away and knowing it.

I can’t wait for what 2010 is gonna bring to me on my bike.

I’m not doing much.   Mostly going to work and buzzing around town being conscious of my new engine and varying my speeds and RPM to break her in, but Damn… It feels so good to be riding again.     Riding a bike is part of me.

Took some pictures while waiting for robyn today on the side of the road.

Ok, here’s my report.

Small grips do not suck.  Granted, I was born with fat digits more designed to grip backhoe levers and rip out tree stumps rather than do detailed work like build watches, or play operation: the wacky doctors game.     I ain’t bitching.     That being said, I like the smaller grips.  It makes a touring bike seem more nimble and precise.   It’s the comfort of a street glide, with the grips of a sportster.   I vote yes.

Hey, that reminds me of a joke.

Q: Do you know what you call a lesbian with fat fingers?

A:  “well hung”

Ok, who cares.   I’m starting to think now tho, that maybe I won’t do texas next weekend.  I may ride to bisbee, and the OK Corral.   I think perhaps an Arizona trip is in order.    I so love AZ, and i’ve never been to to those places.

Anyone wanna go ride with me to the OK Corral?

Love this song.   It’s one I put on the ipod for about every long ride I go on.   It just always seems to fit wherever I’m riding.

Need new grips for my bike.  The return cable no longer stays attached.

Funny thing, it was a ride that before my bike blew I wouldn’t even consider a ride.   I think tho, to alot of my friends who ride it woulda been a ride they’d considered big.    Either way, It felt good to me.

Yesterday robyn and I headed out at 8 to go check out a house we’re thinking about renting.   Great big house, for the same price as what we pay here.    It may or may not happen.

Then, we rode to the dealership, grabbed 4 quarts of oil and a filter, then boogied off to our BACA chapter child ride for the month.   Child ride seemed like a good stretch to finish my break in on my engine:  some freeway, some highway, some around town.   We did that, and I went home and changed my oil.

Loco showed up right after and we rode to the firehouse, then over the  utah hill.    Had a few beers at the dam bar with a few friends, then I headed south.   Love my brothers, but damn…. I needed and still need some solo time in the saddle with my bike.

Man, I’m looking for something in life right now.   I’m looking for some peace to be honest.   I’m looking to find my way again, my inspiration.   I need a muse.  I know where it is:  its sitting in my garage right now.   I don’t know shit from shinola, but the last 20 years have taught me one thing:   great answers come from long rides.     Its been the reset button for my life.  It’s better than any religion or baptism that I’ve ever known.    It’s been true, and its been proven to me.   I love the open road.

I’m gonna put 500 miles on this bike so I know I can trust this engine, then I’m heading the hell out of town for a real ride.   I need one.    No doubt, I’ll come back a new man.

Picked her up yesterday around 2:30.    She feels faster.   Engine sounds tight.    Jerry did a good job.      Rode around last night with a huge smile and the stereo full blast.   Child ride this saturday, then I dump the oil.   Can’t wait.

My bike is done.   Waiting for the phone call to go pick it up.   Man, I can’t hardly hold a thought in my head.  All I can think about is riding her again.