rides to remember

[Gooch]

Haven't really been out on the bike much at all this week between trying to catch up on the yard and household stuff.

Best's post about bikers being a different breed got me thinkin and yesterday I had several notionss of taking a ride. I had a few different destinations in mind but as the day wore on, it looked more and more like a cigarette run was in order. I usually grab a carton or two at the Injun resrevation, which is about 100 miles from here, a real nice ride along some scenic side routes or a superslab slam, depending on the urgency.

It got to be later and later and I figured the res. store was probably gonna be closed by the time I got there, so about 10pm I opted to just head over to the next town where I knew I could get a deal on a couple packs at the convenience store.

The night was perfect, some lingering, hazy humidity to put some moisture in the air, ( helps that stock CV atomize the mixture better don't ya think?) and temps in the mid 70's until well after midnight. Made a nice leisurely run through the city of Canadaigua ( otherwise known as "The Chosen Spot" where I attended my first 12 step meeting well over 15 years ago). Ran the highway out of town about 4 miles to the convenience store playing tag with a couple of 4 wheelers that kept pushing the limit a little. After I grabbed a twofor deal on my smokes, I came out and used the windshield washer fluid and courtest paper towels to clean my mirrors and this older fella who had gotten all the way over to his car came back to chit chat and ask me about the bike.

It was way too beoootiful of a night to turn around and head home so early, and besides I have been wanting to turn the clock to 15 k even and only needed about 70 miles.

Earlier in the day my bud Andrew had called me to remind me that "Buford and Smokin Section" were playing a pub over in Victor, and since I hadn't seen the new version of the band, and Victor's only another left turn and 10 miles from where I was sittin it seemed like it was just the next right thing to do. I normally don't make it a practice to go to a bar on my own, but that line you AA bros hipped me too about "Having an opinion on alcohol" has really helped me get comfortable with who I am. My opinion is I'll leave it to the amatuers, and the social drinkers lol.

I hit the parking lot about 10:30 and could hear the strains of the band doing their version of "Who do Ya Love" with Buford's crusty, whisky and cigarette smooth blues tenor. Had my first smoke out of the fresh pack while I stood in the lot and eventually wandered over to see how packed the joint was. (I'm just not sedated enough anymore for elbow to elbow, standin room only, type situations.)

Looked roomy in there, so I wandered in and Bufe gave me the nod while they did a request "King of the Road" .. first time I ever heard Buford do that, but as after 5 or 6 years of dropping in on his shows, I'm learning, he won't do a tune he can't nail. After that they did "One Way Out" and since I'm an Allman Bros. fan from all the way back and just naturally a little analytiical of anybody that messes with the classics, I listened a little more critically than usual. The new band passes muster although the lead guitarist will never replace teh guy that was standing left of Bufe for the last 3 years. That kid absolutely went away when he played. Reminded me so much of SRV that I was hooked the minute I saw him play.

The Bassist thanked the "shot fairys" for the round in his bets Foster Brooks imitation and Buford made a joke about the after hours informal drag races to be held in the parking lot. Winner gets transportation home round about in a new Victor town cop crusier. lol

Then he announced that there were some special guests in the house, the lead and bass player for "The Rythm Junkies" another local band I have heard of but never seen. Seems they were gonna sit in while Buford gave his boys a break. Well after the players swapped instruments and got the feel down a bit, they did "Paradise" by John Prine. I tell ya I get tears in my eyes when I hear that song. Reminds me that we better damn well enjoy whats here and now, because we may never be able to go back home, or the home we knew will be changed so much ( hauled away by Mr. Peabody's coal train ) we won't know it.

The bassist from the junkies wanted to do something a little hotter, so Bufe figured they could do "Boogie of Life" an original he wrote.

"So life is a boogie and it don't last long so lets all boogie and we'll all get along. Lets boogie, C'mon everybody boogie, do the life long boogie. Get along, get along.

Well my craniums thick and I don't conform. I's doin the ubilical boogie on the day I was born. I's doin the boogie, the itty bitty babay boogie, I's doin the googoo boogie, everybody get along, get along. "

I love Buford's original stuff. He's got a try to stay laid back and party no matter what happens mentality. Personally I think his musics always been the outlet he needed for all the negativity he encountered along his individual boogie.

The rytyhm junkies are officially on my list of local bands I'm gonna make a point of seeing. The next number I didn't ever recognize from the lyrics, but I tell ya I was into the syncopation and guitar interharmonies and how by 3 songs those guys were so tight and tasty. As I sat there entranced, I had an incredible sense of being totally in the moment, led to a special event in my life that I daren't miss.

The junkied stepped off and Bufe's boys did some Little Feets to end the set and I knew it was time to move on. Pushing 11:30 now ( wow all that in an hour) I stopped in the parking lot to puff a butt and call a friend of mine I used to work with. He was into John Prine, in fact turned me onto it, so when the boys did Paradise it was my cue to touch base with my old coworker.

Jumped back on the scoot and thumb kicked it back to life. Headed out knowing I had at least another 50 miles to do before turning back to the farm. Took the same way I came back down wit the exception of swinging out onto
the pier to rattle the car alarms of the neckers who sit out there gettin inspired by the lake.

Went right back the road back to the barn and headed for the other of the closest of teh Finger Lakes, with a side trip through town, down past the bars and stars, peepin the action I used to wander incognizant through the middle of. I put another 14 miles running the north and east end of Seneca Lake and after a little blastin the pipes under the bridges went back across the end of the Big deep lake. The moon through the humidity, reflecting off the calm nearly waveless surface of Seneca, was absolutely worth the trip. By now it was pushing 1 am and there was only one thing I could think of to end a vagabond dream ride and that was a pint of Ben and Jerry's, so after a quick stop at the grocery emporium of choice, it was back to the house.

Amazing the difference between running an errand in the door slammer or trippin the rift, feet up and flying, on the soul cleanser.

One of my most grateful times is pulling the bike in and waiting for the booming after buzz of the pipes to gradually fade from my ears. Then little by little the night sounds creep back in, the bull frogs,peepers, and crickets. I usually have to lean on the handle bars for about 10 minutes to let it saturate me in the glorious sensation of having come through the worst self inflicted storms to catch these minutes only a loving, forgiving creator could furnish and lead me to.

Yeah bikers are a rare breed harley riders are a dime a dozen

[best]

I have no real clear thoughts of one ride being better then another.
Seems that the rides blend together into one big ride of joy.
Greatful that I am able to ride even if it is just to the harware store and back.
Went on a bike run Saturday. The ride was ok, the emotions of the ride and the reason for the ride is what made the ride a joy. Vetran's outreach and POW/MIA awareness. My first bike run was with this same group.
I had just put the sissy bar on the bike. Had a flagpole with a 3 x 5 Old Glory and a 2 ' POW/MIA.
Being a non vet and the acceptance they had shown me to their group was life changing.
Their actions showed me all the more how we should treat each other in life.
They also gave me the honor of being first bike as I was carrying the colors.
First bike with the cross facing back at the 350 plus other bikes. The honor of being colorgaurd.
the acceptance and brotherhood they had shown. Beautiful weather, good cause, good food.
Was a great run and a great day. Still as good as that one day was... each ride seems to carry a memory of its own.
the smells from a bakery, the smell of a skunk even *LOL*
Just to be able to ride is such a joy in and of itself.

How do you put into words what happens in your heart when you are in the wind? I can post all day but still not be able to fully find the words.
destination or the ride? That was a question asked by someone on another board.
Neither... it is life that happens and the people you come in contact with at the destination or along the ride.

[greeneyedjul]

Friday the 27th...nervous. Started the Team Oregon riding course. Was heading to the regular site in snail traffic and happened to look at the schedule.....jeez....needed to do a 180 in town and head out the other way....1/2 hour late. End of class instruction was "get to bed early" and be ready to ride. A friend called. A quick trip to the coast??? Hopped on the back of the road king and knew that bed wouldn't come early, but I would be ready the next day. The moon was almost full, stars shining and the air fresh after several day's of rain. Deer and cows out on the road, the smell of dairy "air" through Tillamook, and a stop for stale coffee and talk then home again. Slept like a baby...

Saturday the 28th...nervous and excited. Finally on the front end of a bike. What a rush, even in 1-3 and no more. A taste of upcoming freedom and the drills of safe riding echoing through my brain. End of class instruction was "get to bed early" and be ready to ride. A friend called. Hopped on the back of a road king 2003 fire fighter's special. A quick trip to Sauvy Island. The moon was full, bigger than Mt. Hood, the sun set on the river, the stars were shining and the air was still fresh after several days of rain. An ospray, an eagle and the sun setting on the horizen. In to NW 23rd for a burger and talk then home again. Slept like a baby...

Sunday the 29th...nervous and EXCITED! Written test and out to the staging area. 7 women out of 24! Way to go sisters. Safe riding echoing through my brain. A grooling day yet worth every minute and every drop of nervous sweat. I passed the exams. 4 didn't. Ouch. A friend called....on the back again yet I'm knowing this won't be a "forever" place for me anymore. Made the rounds to three Harley dealerships, then on to Vancouver a la scenic route for dinner on the Columbia River, watching the sailboats drift by, good food, good company and my friend thanked me for being so excited about riding and bringing the joy of the ride back into his concsiousness.

Monday the 30th...2 1/2 hours at the DMV in line waiting for my endorsement. A friend called. Road back to the dealerships again a la scenic route...there is always a scenic route it seems, and my friend handed me my bike bell. OK, got the leathers, the boots, the helmets, the gloves, the masks, the dew rags, the pins and the patches...collected for years and now my gremlin bell and endorsement and the excitement of owning my own bike. A Heritage and a Low Rider in pearl white soon to be at a dealership near me....Friday in fact and I couldn't get any higher that day. Eyes sparkling and friends reminising about their first bikes and their freedom and their adventures...we sat and talked and shared and laughed and rode...

Tuesday the 31st...My ABATE of Oregon membership came in, checked on my Credit Union rates and discussed insurance, back on the road, still on the back, yet riding none the less, off to more dealerships, more riding adventures and more sharing with friends...

It's Wednesday and into day 28 of recovery and today is a good day, all of my rides have been good rides, even the element swept ones, my riding buddies are smiling and recalling their excitement again and we mourn the loss of Indian Larry. I am no longer a back bike observer, on the road to recovery with brothers and sisters and have my sites set on a near in the future purchase taking my time and not rushing now, high in a good way and my neighbors think I'm still that crazy nurse who has noisy biker friends that by the looks of them, would scare the dickens out of you until you see the twinkle in their eyes and the grins on their faces and hear the delightful belly laughs admidst the roar of their pipes. It's the NW here and our days are now numbered, so if I'm not in a meeting, you'll find me on the road being joyous, happy and free.