4th Annual Lance Crprl Shayne Cabino Memorial Run

I was checking the weather on the local news station. It was Saturday morning on the weekend prior to a very important memorial run that we do each year. The weather had been great for over two and a half weeks and that much good weather in a row is an awfully long time. The odds makers in Vegas said it wouldn’t hold out for us for a third straight weekend and sure enough; the 5-day forecast showed some clouds moving in towards the end of the week. I turned the TV off and tossed the remote onto the recliner. There was still plenty of time to come, and plenty of things could still happen with the weather.

The Gods that oversee memorial runs must have been looking favorably upon us, for as the week progressed, the threat of impending precipitation began to fade away. Friday morning brought us nothing but cloudy grey skies which lasted long into the night, and while the forecast for Sunday called for heavy rain, the all-important day in between, was going to be beautiful.

Saturday, September 26th, dawned bright and clear, if not rather chilly. There was anticipation in the air and folks were ready. Today would be the 4th annual memorial run for Lance Corporal Shayne Cabino who gave his life for our freedoms on October 6th, 2005, during combat operations near Karmah, Iraq.

Our contribution to the attendee tally would be decent sized this year; about 14 of us, although many folks had various obligations to take care of beforehand, so they were going to meet us at the run’s starting/ending location; the Sharon American Legion, Post #106.

11am approached and one by one, those that were riding over from the house began to arrive. Flags were checked, jackets; zipped, and out we rolled for the short ride to the Post. Pulling in, we parked as instructed and then split apart, each in our own directions to say hello to friends, say hello to the bathrooms, and say hello to the bar – but not always in that order.

I located Danno and inquired if blocking would still be needed and the response was; definitely. That meant we’d need to pull our bikes out of the ranks and line them up towards the beginning. Getting back to the bikes, we found that; Damn – we were blocked in. We waited for the announcements to be made, TAPS was played, then the owners of the bikes in front of us showed up and we began to force our way to the front of this cluster-F, only to find the bikes from the other side of the parking lot were being told to roll out. Double-damn, now we’re going nowhere. Oh well, no choice now but to settle into the middle of the pack and see how things go. And surprisingly, the police representation did an outstanding job with the blocking, meaning no additional help from us meatheads wound up being needed. That meant we were able to just kick back and enjoy the ride – which is always nice and all, but there’s something to be said about the adrenaline rush that comes from blasting up the side of the column, time and time again…

Pics from the run;
Of course, there’s always a bit of congestion through town centers…
How great is it when you can’t see the beginning of the column in front of you…
and at the same time, you can’t see the end of the column behind you.
Shayne’s memorial bridge, which we pass over each year. His family always waits on the other side, with flags waving proudly as we proceed by them, one at a time. Very emotional.
We passed plenty of folks along the route, some standing respectfully, some waving and clapping. Thumb’s-up were extended out of some car windows, cheers and smiles were seen and heard out of others. Whenever we passed a veteran that had come out to stand at attention, our horns blared in a symphony of appreciation and pride.

Back at the Post:
Once settled in, we celebrated with food, frosties, and friends. The music blared and stories were shared, and the afternoon passed gently by. And before long? It was time for the raffles! An amazing assortment of donated items awaited those whose tickets would be called, so we all gathered together and prepared to claim our booty.

Unfortunately, and as usual, we’d all managed to purchase defective raffle tickets once again. Folks to our left, to our right, and all around us, made trip after trip to the proffered prizes, but our behinds never left our seats at all. Oh, the sadness. (Good thing the beer tickets were once again all winners.)

Speaking of beer tickets, I had purchased 10 tickets to start with, but after having redeemed several of them, I came to find that I somehow had 11 tickets left in my pocket. I guess the ticket dispensing person had been sampling some of their wares before they counted out my 10 tix? And to make things worse...er...better, Greg knew the guys behind the beer table and kept bringing us armfuls of free beers, time and time again. (You see why we hang out with him, don’t you?) Suffice to say that at the end of the day, I still had a pocketful of beer tickets.

The past three years have found us bringing the after-event back to 640 South St for a chimenea fire and more camaraderie. This year, however, Kevin’s 40th birthday party required attending, so the chimenea invitation was not an option for us. By luck, it didn’t matter, as every single person had something else going on and wouldn’t have been able to make it back to the house, anyway.

The afternoon sun began to fade and the cooler air was swift to reclaim the land. We said our goodbyes to one another and headed off in our own directions, bringing to a close the 4th annual memorial run.

Final count on the number of bikes came in around 190 – not a bad turnout at all. Each year, this run gets bigger and better, and it’s entirely due to all the hard work that Danno and the rest of Shayne’s family and friends put into it. It’s no small reflection of what this brave Marine meant to those that knew and cared about him.

From those of us who continue to ride in your honor; we thank you for your courage and your sacrifice. You gave the ultimate gift for us and our loved ones, and we honor your memory.

http://www.shaynesrun.com/

Ride Hard, Take Chances, and Thank a Vet!!!

Springing Back Into Action

I promised you a write-up on the kickstand return-spring replacement process and here it is – better late then never I suppose.

Here’s the new spring (top), laid out next to the old one. Hard to believe that little bit of stretch on the right hook of the old spring would be enough to render this thing useless, but such was the case.
First thing to do was get the bike set up to work on. Although...I suppose the first thing to do was get the new spring. And as you can see from the above pic, I had succeeded in that portion of the task. So this would bring us to the second step; getting the bike into a position to work on.

A folded moving blanket and a gentle laying-over of the bike and I was good to go. (This is the lean-angle that I strive to achieve on every turn, LOL)
Once I could look at the underside, it was plainly visible where a rock had snagged the spring, ending its usefulness to the bike.

Man, it sure is dirty under here!
When it came time to install the spring, I could have hooked one end into the frame and then worked myself up to a heart attack trying to pull and stretch the new spring out enough to catch the other hook onto the kickstand. Or…

I could take the easy way out and remove the kickstand from the bike. A simple standard ½” wrench would take care of this for me.
Ta da!
With the spring hooked on both ends, it was just a matter of twisting the main shaft of the stand back up and into its sleeve.
Ta da, again! I’m on a roll!
Bolt the locking tab into place and voila – ready to rock and roll again.
Set the bike back up so that no one can see all the dirt underneath, and I'm done! Nice and simple, just the way I like it.
Now then, where to roll off to...

Ride Hard, Take Chances

2009 Labor Day Trip, Aftermath

Monday: Ahh, Monday morning, how we hate thee. For thou art the end of our vacation! *Sigh* We broke camp and got everything loaded up. We said our farewells, fired up the bikes and…and…what the hell? My kickstand won’t stay up. Stupid thing keeps flopping back down. Upon closer inspection we found the spring was missing. Damn, must have caught it on a rock when I was coming back into the clearing the last time. We managed to find the spring, but a quick look revealed that it wasn’t going to be of any help. One of the hooks had been unbent a bit and it wouldn’t stay in place. So for the ride home, Zig took turns hooking and unhooking a small bungie to keep the stand safely up and out of harm's way, each time we stopped for gas.

Once home, I rigged up a system with a mini-bungie cord that would keep things working smoothly until I could pick up a new spring. (The fins on the jugs give the optical illusion that the shifter rod was under tension, but I can assure you that it was not.)

I shot to the dealership on Tuesday to order the spring, picked it up on Thursday and got it installed pretty easily. (The pics/writeup on the replacement process will follow. But not today - still frikkin slammed here at work. Relax boss-man, I'm on lunch right now!!).

That about wraps up the festival that was the 2009 Labor Day Weekend. Everyone had a great time, everyone got home safely (if not a bit lighter on brain cells), and every single one of us wishes we were heading out tomorrow to do it all over again. So until that time when we can all share the pavement together once again...

Ride Hard, Take Chances

2009 Labor Day Trip, Day 5

Sunday: I was up early on Sunday morning and took a stroll down to the beach, looking for any treasures the sea may have bestowed upon the sands. Alas, the only things I found were a piece of blue glass which hadn’t nearly spent enough time being worked over by the salt water, thus it was only good for the trash bin (along with a lot of other flotsam and jetsam which we picked up).
Returning to camp, I took care of some small tasks here and there, then we all settled in for some one-card. (Overall, it was a bad year for me; not one victory. Damn!) Ed and Sue showed up in the mid-day and more hugs and laughter were had.
More and more folks began showing up as the afternoon wore on, and preparations were made for the annual Sunday Lobster (and steak, and chicken, and kielbasa) Feast! Mmmmm, FOOD!!

Here are the unlucky fellas, prior to their introduction to the steam…
Rob and Rod do the dastardly deed of placing them into the pot while Bub looks on.
Some of the finished product…
We ate, drank, recited poems and stories, made commemorative buttons, reconnected with old friends, made new friends – all around, just a fantastic time, long into the night. Hell, there was so much fun to be had, even the flies were getting into it (yes, this is an actual picture that I took).

Much merriment was made in the night hours! We each fell victim to the toll that such amusement wreaks upon our bodies, and one by one, we eventually closed our eyes on another successful Labor Day weekend.

2009 Labor Day Trip, Day 4

Saturday: I was up early at the crack of…8:30. 8:30!?!? Crap, we’re supposed to roll out @ 9am! Yep, glancing out the window, most of the crew was already milling around the bikes in the parking lot. Damn, shoulda set an alarm!! Oh wait – I did, and I slept right through it. D’oh!

Shower was achieved, attire was thrown on, and laundry was stuffed onto the bike – whew, I made it with a couple of minutes to spare. From the hotel, we rolled down to the local Bickford’s, got a hearty breakfast into us and then crossed the border into NH. Yeah!!! NH!!! No Helmet Law!!! We tossed those stupid infernal helmets into Bub’s van…along with beer, beer, hard alcohol, more beer, and even more beer, all from the NH liquor store and accompanying beer store that were right there waiting for us! We love NH!!

The rest of the ride through NH and into ME was pleasant and uneventful. We pulled into Harley Road around 4:30, and headed up to the clearing. Dave & Karmen were there to greet us and we settled in with some road sodas and got our tents set up.
Before long, it was time to head off to Rob & Tina’s house for the annual spaghetti dinner! Pan after pan of those delicious noodles were smothered with Rob’s famous simmered-for-days sauce. Man, I’m drooling right now, just thinking about it. More beers were opened, laughter ensued and we took turns stoking the outdoor fireplace. This was great!

Oh yeah; Jerry opted to ride with Zig over to Rob & Tina’s house. Talk about coming full circle – both Zig and I have shared the back seat of Jerry’s trike over the years (but not at the same time!), so it seemed fitting that Jerry be able to sit back and enjoy the scenery for a change.
When it got rather late, we headed back to the clearing and got the campfire going, imbibed a bit more (as we’re known to do) and shared funny stories of Russ Sr. That brought us to the close of another day.

2009 Labor Day Trip, Day 3

Friday: The next morning we were up, packed and off to Olean again, meeting the crew that would be heading to Maine this year. A most-excellent breakfast was served up by TC and we were soon on our way.

Out on 17, the fog was heavy and the temps; cold – but this is normal for our Labor Day departure. We ride through this for maybe 20 miles or so before we reach the beginnings of some large hills/small mountains which gradually lift us up a bit, then back down again. Up a bit higher the next time, the air gets slightly lighter, then back down again into the murk. Higher yet again, then a brief plateau that allows you to see breaks of sunshine begin breaking through…then it’s back down and the fog welcomes us with its cold and wet embrace once again.

This year, it seemed to take even longer for us to break through the fog once and for all, but eventually the fog parted for the last time and we enjoyed strong sunshine all the way through the state of NY…

…well, almost all the way through. See, Zig and I had been riding around in this, the 11th state of the US, for three days. We’d logged over 800 miles in those three days, and we were a mere 15 (yep, that’s right; FIFTEEN) miles from the VT border when we were greeted by a member of the friendly state of NY’s constabulary. It was a helmet stop, and our lids failed. Completely. Most of the crew rides legal lids, but 4 of us do not. Thankfully, the rest of the crew kept riding and it wound up being only Zig and I that were popped. Bub (in the chase van) had pulled in behind the trooper, but the trooper angrily motioned for him to pull back out onto the road and keep going. Suffice to say the trooper was a dick; all bad attitude, short/snappy questions, “You got a license? Got a registration? Don’t move from here, I’ll be back.”, etc.

As for the trooper; he must have been doing a one-man version of good cop / bad cop, because after he returned from his vehicle and handed us the tickets, he started this whole story of how he usually looks the other way and doesn’t harass bikers, he knows how it is to ride, his hands were tied because they (the troopers) were being forced to do a one-day enforcement drive, blah blah blah. I just took the ticket, turned my back on him and walked away while he was still talking.

Anyway, here’s the outcome…
Once we caught up with the rest of the crew and filled them in on the details, King texted me the following pic which I thought was very apropos.
I’m happy to say that this was the last of our troubles for the day. We soon found ourselves in Brattleboro and settled in for the night. A yummy dinner at a next-door steakhouse, followed by beers and one-card at the hotel and Friday was a wrap.

2009 Labor Day Trip, Day 2

Thursday: We’d made prearrangements with Jerry to meet up at his house and follow him on one of his whirlwind tours of the local riding areas. Zig and I headed out for breakfast beforehand, then arrived @ Jerry’s house, only to find Mark waiting for us. He commented on our tardiness (10 mins), and refused to listen to our pleas for lenience (we’d been stuck behind a line-painting crew back on the main drag). I tell ya; he can be a real ornery bastard at times. :-D

We had a pleasant surprise in store; Barb was forgoing sleep so that she could join us on our ride today – sweet! We mounted up and headed for the fantastic mountainous roadways which wind, twist and turn up, down and through some amazing scenery. We stopped at the Kinzua Dam, took in some fantastic mountain sights, and watched all the ginormous carp swimming lazily in the sunshine.

From here, we paused in a small-town eatery to stoke our furnaces for the long day of riding ahead. Since Patty, Zig and I were still full from breakfast, we settled for something simple; Peanut Butter Pie!

Ok, so Fatty was able to get another meal down…
After that, we headed back through some great forests, marveling as a deer bounded across the road in front of us at one point, and at another point; a hawk swooped down directly over Jerry and Barb’s heads, aiming for something in the underbrush beside the road. As soon as we passed, I turned to look behind us and saw it take flight again, so I’m assuming it was successful in its hunting excursion.

Our destination was the Kinzua Bridge. So much history here, but it’s easier to just direct you to the Wikipedia site for this bridge; www.en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kinzua_Bridge.

In a nutshell; the bridge was over a century old, and was destroyed when a tornado swept through the valley in 2003.

We found an overlook which had one of those giant binocular sets that you put a quarter into – except this one was free! I managed to zoom my camera lens through the binocular lens and get a few decent close-ups of the devastation that used to be rigid steel.
We were content to view things from afar…all until we saw this sign. *Sigh* Why do they put these signs up? Now we have to get closer.

This was a nice perspective-angle shot that couldn’t be passed up.
I’m surprised they didn’t put up any signs that said “Don’t even think about climbing onto the dangerous towers – they’re unsafe”. Just imagine if they had? We would have had to do something like this…(Great view from up here!)
We collected ourselves and mosied back towards town, again passing through great scenery along the way. I saw a couple of odd purple things hanging from trees every now and then, but I forgot to ask Jerry what they were. A quick Google search explained it; they’re traps for the Emerald Ash Borers (an invasive species that’s destroying the Ash population).
After we returned to town, we met up with the crew at…yep; the V! We knocked back a couple of cold ones to whet our livers…er…whistles for a bit, then headed off to the graves of brothers-lost to pay our annual respects.

From there it was a quick blast over to Tommy’s place (Mickey’s!) for amazing grub and some good natured ribbing (we’re Sox fans, Tommy’s a die-hard Yanks fan). After our bellies were happy, it was time to make our livers unhappy. Yep; back to the V ! But there was mischief in the air…

It started out innocently enough; Mary had her iPod hooked up to the sound system for tunes, and we were joking about her musical preferences. She graciously offered to let us plug ours in, so I obliged. See? Innocent, right?
As soon as I turned back around, I found that Mary had taken up residence on the outside of the bar! And guess who that left behind to make the drinks and serve the customers? You got it; me! Sweet! I’d never been (allowed) behind a bar before, so it was pretty cool. The first patron to take care of was none other than Mary; having just been freed from the confines of the bar, proper, she now needed a refreshing drink. Ok, first order coming up…what’ll it be, something nice and easy like a cold beer? Nope; a mixed drink. No problem, I’ve mixed plenty of drinks in my time (and one or two of them actually came out ok, too!). Here’s the master of disaster, doing his best to get it right.
Ta da! Delivered right to the happy customer, without even so much as a drop spilled. Whew!
Wow, this bartending stuff is easy! Ok, who’s next?
What’ll it be, buddy? You’re all set? How ‘bout you? No? You? Dammit, you people need to drink faster! Ok, what can I do to pass the time…oh, I saw this in a movie once; watch me flip a bottle! (Yes, I was cheating; the cap was on the bottle.)
This seemed easy enough so I grabbed the 151, took the cap off, and made with the flipping…that didn’t go so well. Some lady that was smoking got doused and the resulting fireball blew half the pictures off the walls. The lady was ok, but she was blown across the room into one of the booths. I had to give her the rest of the bottle just to calm her nerves back down.

After that debacle, I was banished to the TV corner for a 5 minute time-out, but I managed to grab a beer from the cooler on my way by.
They told me I couldn’t drink beer behind the bar. What? No beer behind the bar? Fine. I waited until they weren’t looking and then traded up. (Hey, it's not a beer!)

Here's why you should keep an eye on your drink when I'm bartending. (The same thing applies to me, though; I should have moved my beer out of Zig's reach.)

Much fun was had as usual, and we kept poor Mary there well past closing time again, but she was good natured about it as always. Pulling on our jackets, we ambled out to the parking lot, fired the bikes up and headed back to the safety of King & Pat’s house. This concluded day 2.