Sunday, July 15, 2012
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
The rally in Myrtle Point, Or., has been going on for more years than I've been eligible to be a member, and so I feel right at home with the 97 other folks that showed up this year at the Coos County fairgrounds. They came on Honda Gold Wings, Harleys, in motor homes, and in cars, for the three days of reunion, good grub, and much philosophical discussion on the art of getting older while maximizing fun.
That's me in the doo rag, Bruce, in shorts, Rapid Robert in the black jacket, our good friend Corrie in the vest, and 87 year old John in the helmet. We all left together from Grass Valley, Ca. the morning of Aug. 19, rode to Red Bluff, and over Hwy 36 to Arcata, on the Calif coast, where we spent the night. Hwy 36 is a fine, twisty, ideal motorcycle road over the coast range from the central valley, and winds its way thru Grizzly Creek Redwoods state park, where the giant redwood trees are even older than some of the club members. It was 98 degrees when we left Red Bluff, and 52 degrees in the cold, misty fog by the time we got to Arcata. Such is Calif in the Summertime. To quote Mark Twain, "The coldest Winter I ever spent, was a Summer in San Fransisco".
The next morning, we had breakfast at the Samoa Cookhouse, out on the ocean peninsula just South of Arcata. It is also a lumbering museum, and well worth the stop to see all the historic photos and artifacts. There is one picture of a downed redwood tree, with about 30 loggers sitting on it. They are holding the 28 foot hand saw used to fell the 26 foot diameter tree.
The run up the coast to Bandon was cold, foggy, and somewhat wet at times, and interupted by frequent road construction stops, the bane of traveling weekdays.
Paul Bunyan, and Babe, the blue ox, at the Trees of Mystery, near Klamath, Ca.
See the following link for more pictures from the rally: http://picasaweb.google.com/cyberfish2/MyrtlePtRally
The Coos County fairgrounds had been substancially improved since I was there two years ago. Several of the "dangerous" trees had been removed, and a nice pond with a waterfall, and flowers had been added. I had previously camped in a tent under one of the dangerous trees. We bikers live on the edge. I stayed in the Myrtle Trees Inn this year, with the luxury of being able to stand up to get dressed, and a bed I didn't have to blow up again in the middle of the night. This also enabled me to pack the bike a lot lighter - no tent, sleeping bag, etc. Last time, I loaded all this stuff on my '03 Road King. It looked like I was going for a month. So....
A few comments about the new '09 Street Glide. ABS brakes. Six speed. 96ci motor. Wider frame. Cooler, rerouted exhaust. Removable tour pack. Radio. Fairing. Six years worth of improvements made it well worth trading in the Road King, which I loved.
Breakfast Fri & Sat mornings was a Mary McMuffin, just like a McDonalds McMuffin, but nice and hot, and without the eggshell. Fri night, we had all kicked in a can of chilie to the main pot. It was great, with the hot dogs. Sat night, we had a catered seafood feast, with fresh local oysters, albacore, halibut, and cod, probably the best $15 I ever spent.
We roared (at least the Harley did) into town Thursday afternoon, happy to be in sunny, 78 degree weather with a nice breeze. Doris Walter, my riding buddy for Fri & Sat, was already checked into the motel with her granddaughter, Janice. Doris is a great poet; I got to read her book while I was there. They came all the way from Texas, by plane and car.
Even with a GPS, and printed directions for the run, I had to ride with a group to find all the right stops. We had perfect weather; even the cold ocean wind held off till afternoon.
I had high hand for the Hi/Lo poker wheel, and got to split the $80 pot, a first for me. Won a couple cans of smoked albacore in the raffle, too.
The ride home Sunday was much more direct, from Myrtle Point east to I-5, south to Red Bluff, Hwy.99 to Hwy 70, and on home to Grass Valley on SR-20, about 440 miles for the day, and some 1284 miles for the four day trip. Redding, Calif. was downright cool at 92 degrees. This will be my only long trip for this year. I'm really looking forward to doing it all over again next year.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
I remember my answer - "Why, no, Sister. I don't believe we have. " And she replied, "Then I will pray for you. " To which my dear drinking buddy replied, "Don't bother, Sister. We can sin a lot faster than you can pray."
Hysterically funny at the time, as I've gotten older, I've come to consider the question in a more sober light. I have decided the short, and final answer is: Only God will be the judge of that. No mortal human has that right to stand in final judgement.
It has been my belief for many years that we are all spiritual beings, born into a human experience, that we are born with both good and evil as part of our humaness. We are free to choose how to live our lives, to let the good or evil predominate. Our choices will ultimately determine the answer to the above question.
I no longer embrace the angry, punishing God of my Catholic upbringing. Most days I pray to the God of my understanding for the guidance to live a proper and meaningful life, and for the help to learn from my mistakes.
In my opinion, organized religion has always been about power, and money. Same for politics. However, any time you would like to say a little prayer for my soul, please do. I may need all the help I can get.
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Last year, HOG members logged in over 3 million miles. This year, we rode almost 4.4 million miles. Corrie and I started out with six other club members, and rode South on highway 49 to Angels Camp. There, the rest of the group turned off to go up over Sonora Pass, and back to Truckee, Ca. and home.
Corrie and I continued South of Hwy 49 to Coulterville, Ca. then West on 132 to Modesto, North on 99 to Sacramento, East on 80 to Hwy 49, which we took North to get back home to Grass Valley. We each logged some 348 miles on what, so far, was the hottest day of the year. We started out at 68 degrees, but by the time we got to Coulterville, it was well over 100, and in the central valley, riding back on the hot pavement, I got readings up to 117 degrees. By then, we were stopping about every 30 miles to wet down, and suck up Gatorade and water.
At some point, the ride stopped being fun, and became more about survival. I had long since sweated off the sunscreen, and would have ridden naked if it had been legal. Now, there's a sunburn you wouldn't soon forget. I took all the stuff out of my pockets, stashed it in the saddlebags, and poured water down my chest, back, and into my pockets. I wet my hair, even tho I had to wear a helmet. In 30 miles, we were bone dry. Hot. Thirsty. Tired. Sunburned. Homesick.
I can't wait to do it all over again next year. Next year, we will ride a cooler route, up thru the mountains.