It's Labor Day time once again, but alas; there's no "Olean" leg this time around. I had to bail on that option, which left me stuck here at my desk for the past couple of days. I'm outta here tomorrow, though; headed up to Maine directly. Barring any raod issues, I should be pulling into the clearing in the early afternoon. I'm not certain when the rest of the crew will be arriving - hell, that plan seems to change by the day. Flex was in, I found out two days ago that I guess he's out. Then, we lost another one this morning who decided to back out at the last minute. Oh well, it doesn't matter who makes it up there, we'll have a great time.
The NY crew will be departing tomorrow morning, then overnighting it in VT and then arriving at the clearing sometime on Friday. I'm sure they'll be ready to kick things into gear whenever it is that they arrive. Their crew is short a few folks as well; our beloved Mark and Mary aren't able to make it, nor are Carol, Stephanie and Britta and Steele, or Big John and Stephanie. Another person who will be absent is Bub, but he's got a good reason, as he went in for open-heart surgery yesterday. Word from Lynner is the surgery went much longer than anticipated, but that it went well, and he's recovering now.
Here's hoping everyone that is making the ride up has a safe and enjoyable trip. Those of you not going to Maine...what's wrong with you?
Full coverage of the 2013 Maine Event to follow. Until then...
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Monday, August 26, 2013
Where was I...ahh yes; Friday night
The week had been long and I'd built up a bit of a thirst. There wasn't anything planned for the evening so I figured I'd see what Nelly was up to, since his commute home takes him almost directly past my house. A simple text to his phone (asking "Thirsty"?) elicited a quick response; my phone was ringing and he was curious where I wanted to meet up. We kicked around some options, finally settling on my suggestion of Beckett's, a townie bar located just outside of Walpole center. We agreed on a time, and with that; the plan was in place.
I wrapped up my things at work and was soon blasting home to drop my crap off and then head off to meet up. As I pulled in, I was greeted with an empty parking lot out front, and a full dumpster out back. The door was closed and there was no activity inside that I could discern. Well these aren't good signs... Dismounting, I tried the door and sure enough; locked up tight. Huh. Seems they've gone under.
I ambled back over to the bike and kicked around for a bit until Nelly (and his son) showed up. They got a chuckle out of my lack of awareness of what's going on in town, and then we decided to head off to the Eagle Broook Saloon, down the road a bit in Wrentham. And that's when our first indication of what was to come later, appeared. Nelly's bike wouldn't start. It sounded like the battery was dead, but Nelly assured me that his bike (the same bike he's been having all kinds of issues with this summer) had done this on a regular basis, and that it just wasn't quite warmed up yet (after having been ridding from Dedham, a half hour away??)
Anyway, the parking lot offered us two benefits; it was devoid of obstacles (cars), and was pitched at a decent enough angle to allow us to give him a good running push, allowing him to pop the clutch and start her up. He assured me this wasn't anything to be worried about, so we headed off to our destination.
Walking in to the crowded establishment, we luckily found a bar table and settled in with some coldies, and filled our belies with wings and nachos. Definitely not sticking to the diet tonight! After a bit, Nelly's son headed off, leaving just the two of us to our laughter and chatter.
When the night was beginning to wane, we settled up our tab and headed out to the bikes. And here is when it hit me; I should have had Nelly try starting his bike as soon as we'd parked, just to see if we'd have the same issue. Because if we had, it would have been much better to address the problem then, while we were fresh, rather than at the end of the night. When we weren't fresh.
So there we were, in a crowded parking lot, filled with cars and customers, trying to get enough speed up to jump it one more time. Well, there was no appreciable pitch to the parking lot, so our efforts yielded nothing but amused looks from the folks around us - including the officer who came around, doing a general patrol of the parking lot (she did ask us what was up, and when I told her what was indeed 'up', she chuckled and said to call them if we needed help).
Fortunately, Nelly noticed that at the rear of the parking lot, there was a raised, dirt area which had apparently been cleared for additional parking. The area itself was dirt, the road leading up to it was dirt, but it emptied out into the paved parking lot...kinda. There was a lot of dirt runoff, as well as gravel, but our options were quite limited. Ok, let's give it a shot. We grunted and groaned the bike up to the dirt area, turned it around, and took a breather. When we were ready to give it a try, I took the seat for this one, and off we went, with Nelly pushing. I got to the bottom of the dirt ramp and popped the clutch. The transmission grabbed, the rear tire locked...and the dirt gave way, leaving no traction at all. (I wasn't going very fast to begin with so there was no danger.) When I slowly skidded to a stop, I'd managed to leave quite a gouge in the dirt but beyond that; nothing of value. We looked at each other, each took a side of the bike, and began the slow push up the hill again.
After our second breather (and while discussing the options of going left or right at the bottom of the hill, to try and achieve better traction), we commnenced with our second attempt. I was at the helm again, and waited longer to pop the clutch, hoping to clear all the dirt this time. I succeeded in that, but there was still so much loose gravel, that the outcome was the same. The rear tire locked, the gravel prevented any real traction, and I slowly skidded to a stop atop a still-dead bike.
After once again bringing the bike to the top of the dirt ramp, we took a fair amount of time in analyzing our options. To the left offered the appearance of cleaner pavement, but the right side was, by far, the less congested area. Screw it, we need pavement. It would be the left side.
Alas, our third attempt yielded the exact same results. No traction, no fire, no dice. Damn. Looks like the only option is to go get the Jeep and jump it. Which is what I did. And with the reliable souce of electrical power that comes with a running automobile's engine, Nelly's bike was soon purring again. We had a good laugh, and with instructions for him to let me know when he'd arrived home safely, we each headed off in our respective directions.
On my way back home, I was thinking back over the years, about how we've all had to bail each other out (and each other's bikes out) from time to time. And this led me to thinking of Russell. How many times up in Maine would Russell fire up the old bus to go retrieve one person or another who had stayed too long at one of the Labor Day paties, then ignored the good advice of staying over, and then gotten in over their heads on their way home. Be it a bike run off the road, a car flipped on it's side, or even a retard who fell into the firepit out back in the clearing. He was never unwilling to do what he could to help someone out that needed it.
When I got home, I cracked a beer, sat in a chair in my yard, and admired the night sky. Before too long, Nelly's "Home safe" text came in, so I was able to fully kick back and admire the show going on far above me. The moon shone exceptionally brightly as the clouds, with their tattered edges and varying thicknesses, floated from one side of my vision to another. It was a great ending to what had been an amusing evening.
I'm sure Russell got a kick out of watching it, too.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
I wrapped up my things at work and was soon blasting home to drop my crap off and then head off to meet up. As I pulled in, I was greeted with an empty parking lot out front, and a full dumpster out back. The door was closed and there was no activity inside that I could discern. Well these aren't good signs... Dismounting, I tried the door and sure enough; locked up tight. Huh. Seems they've gone under.
I ambled back over to the bike and kicked around for a bit until Nelly (and his son) showed up. They got a chuckle out of my lack of awareness of what's going on in town, and then we decided to head off to the Eagle Broook Saloon, down the road a bit in Wrentham. And that's when our first indication of what was to come later, appeared. Nelly's bike wouldn't start. It sounded like the battery was dead, but Nelly assured me that his bike (the same bike he's been having all kinds of issues with this summer) had done this on a regular basis, and that it just wasn't quite warmed up yet (after having been ridding from Dedham, a half hour away??)
Anyway, the parking lot offered us two benefits; it was devoid of obstacles (cars), and was pitched at a decent enough angle to allow us to give him a good running push, allowing him to pop the clutch and start her up. He assured me this wasn't anything to be worried about, so we headed off to our destination.
Walking in to the crowded establishment, we luckily found a bar table and settled in with some coldies, and filled our belies with wings and nachos. Definitely not sticking to the diet tonight! After a bit, Nelly's son headed off, leaving just the two of us to our laughter and chatter.
When the night was beginning to wane, we settled up our tab and headed out to the bikes. And here is when it hit me; I should have had Nelly try starting his bike as soon as we'd parked, just to see if we'd have the same issue. Because if we had, it would have been much better to address the problem then, while we were fresh, rather than at the end of the night. When we weren't fresh.
So there we were, in a crowded parking lot, filled with cars and customers, trying to get enough speed up to jump it one more time. Well, there was no appreciable pitch to the parking lot, so our efforts yielded nothing but amused looks from the folks around us - including the officer who came around, doing a general patrol of the parking lot (she did ask us what was up, and when I told her what was indeed 'up', she chuckled and said to call them if we needed help).
Fortunately, Nelly noticed that at the rear of the parking lot, there was a raised, dirt area which had apparently been cleared for additional parking. The area itself was dirt, the road leading up to it was dirt, but it emptied out into the paved parking lot...kinda. There was a lot of dirt runoff, as well as gravel, but our options were quite limited. Ok, let's give it a shot. We grunted and groaned the bike up to the dirt area, turned it around, and took a breather. When we were ready to give it a try, I took the seat for this one, and off we went, with Nelly pushing. I got to the bottom of the dirt ramp and popped the clutch. The transmission grabbed, the rear tire locked...and the dirt gave way, leaving no traction at all. (I wasn't going very fast to begin with so there was no danger.) When I slowly skidded to a stop, I'd managed to leave quite a gouge in the dirt but beyond that; nothing of value. We looked at each other, each took a side of the bike, and began the slow push up the hill again.
After our second breather (and while discussing the options of going left or right at the bottom of the hill, to try and achieve better traction), we commnenced with our second attempt. I was at the helm again, and waited longer to pop the clutch, hoping to clear all the dirt this time. I succeeded in that, but there was still so much loose gravel, that the outcome was the same. The rear tire locked, the gravel prevented any real traction, and I slowly skidded to a stop atop a still-dead bike.
After once again bringing the bike to the top of the dirt ramp, we took a fair amount of time in analyzing our options. To the left offered the appearance of cleaner pavement, but the right side was, by far, the less congested area. Screw it, we need pavement. It would be the left side.
Alas, our third attempt yielded the exact same results. No traction, no fire, no dice. Damn. Looks like the only option is to go get the Jeep and jump it. Which is what I did. And with the reliable souce of electrical power that comes with a running automobile's engine, Nelly's bike was soon purring again. We had a good laugh, and with instructions for him to let me know when he'd arrived home safely, we each headed off in our respective directions.
On my way back home, I was thinking back over the years, about how we've all had to bail each other out (and each other's bikes out) from time to time. And this led me to thinking of Russell. How many times up in Maine would Russell fire up the old bus to go retrieve one person or another who had stayed too long at one of the Labor Day paties, then ignored the good advice of staying over, and then gotten in over their heads on their way home. Be it a bike run off the road, a car flipped on it's side, or even a retard who fell into the firepit out back in the clearing. He was never unwilling to do what he could to help someone out that needed it.
When I got home, I cracked a beer, sat in a chair in my yard, and admired the night sky. Before too long, Nelly's "Home safe" text came in, so I was able to fully kick back and admire the show going on far above me. The moon shone exceptionally brightly as the clouds, with their tattered edges and varying thicknesses, floated from one side of my vision to another. It was a great ending to what had been an amusing evening.
I'm sure Russell got a kick out of watching it, too.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Friday, August 23, 2013
Stupid F'n Technology
Got a great story to tell you folks about tonight, but my phone is apparently not talking nicely to the website, so I am SOL. And by that, I mean that if I were to try and spell everything out on here, I would have to do it via HTML, and it's been a long evening, so I'm afraid that's not going to happen. So, I will do my best to reconstruct it on Monday while I am at work and have a better connection. Until then...
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Monday, August 19, 2013
Shayne's Run, Pre-Run
Yesterday, we did the annual pre-run check of the route we ride on the upcoming Shayne's Run, held in September. After having done this route many times before (both pre-runs, and on the actual runs themselves), we all know the route quite well. The purpose of the pre-run is not to familiarize ourselves with the turns and intersections, it's to ensure there are no construction issues or roadway hazards which will need to be accounted for in our planning.
As things turned out, there was good news and bad; the bad news was that a stretch of the route is all torn up to be repaved. The manhole covers are raised, but they're marked well and are ringed with a bit of pavement around them to minimize the impact on tires, so all in all, it shouldn't be too bad. To be honest, if this is the extent of the 'bad' on this run, then we'll be in decent shape.
The good news is that Bellingham has finally repaved a section of Maple Street which was always the absolute worst stretch of the route. Imagine our pleasant surprise when, rather than the expected shock-busting potholes and teeth-rattling bumps we're used to, we were treated to new, smooth blacktop. It's about time!
The only other glitch we had to deal with was the thickening clouds above our heads. We sped up our pace in the hopes we would outrun the coming rain, but to our dismay; we were not successful. By the time we rolled back into the Post's parking lot, we were...well, not soaked, mind you...let's say 'decently dampened'.
All in all, things look good, and we're hoping that that one stretch we encountered that's torn up will be repaved in the next few weeks. If that happens, then the entire route should be nice and smooth.
Let's see if I can post some pics now.
I took these at the cemetery where Shayne is buried. Stopping here to say our thanks is a tradition for the pre-run, not to mention; a luxury we cannot afford on the day of the actual run. Logistically, that is a flat out impossibility, so we pay our respects as part of the pre-run.
Here's hoping that we paid our dues to the rain gods last night, and that they will now see fit to bless us with great weather for the run itself. (It's good to hope, right?)
Ride Hard, Take Chances
As things turned out, there was good news and bad; the bad news was that a stretch of the route is all torn up to be repaved. The manhole covers are raised, but they're marked well and are ringed with a bit of pavement around them to minimize the impact on tires, so all in all, it shouldn't be too bad. To be honest, if this is the extent of the 'bad' on this run, then we'll be in decent shape.
The good news is that Bellingham has finally repaved a section of Maple Street which was always the absolute worst stretch of the route. Imagine our pleasant surprise when, rather than the expected shock-busting potholes and teeth-rattling bumps we're used to, we were treated to new, smooth blacktop. It's about time!
The only other glitch we had to deal with was the thickening clouds above our heads. We sped up our pace in the hopes we would outrun the coming rain, but to our dismay; we were not successful. By the time we rolled back into the Post's parking lot, we were...well, not soaked, mind you...let's say 'decently dampened'.
All in all, things look good, and we're hoping that that one stretch we encountered that's torn up will be repaved in the next few weeks. If that happens, then the entire route should be nice and smooth.
Let's see if I can post some pics now.
I took these at the cemetery where Shayne is buried. Stopping here to say our thanks is a tradition for the pre-run, not to mention; a luxury we cannot afford on the day of the actual run. Logistically, that is a flat out impossibility, so we pay our respects as part of the pre-run.
Here's hoping that we paid our dues to the rain gods last night, and that they will now see fit to bless us with great weather for the run itself. (It's good to hope, right?)
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Friday, August 16, 2013
Happy Friday
It appears this website might actually let me post a pic today, so I'll hit you with a little bit of rambling, and then a random shot of a sign I stumbled across in a little corner store up in New Hampshire earlier in the summer.
So what to ramble about? Well, the mornings have been getting chillier, which is to be expected this time of year. The air is clean, crisp, and best of all; dry. The humidity has seen fit to give us a break, and from what I'm hearing on the weather reports (ha!); we're in store for a good weekend.
Alas, the other thing that goes hand in hand with this time of year is the shortening of daylight. I'm still able to wear the sunglasses for the ride in (5:45am), but I'm pushing things. In a week or so, I'll have to make the switch over to clears. And then, sometime after that (but thankfully not for a few months, still); the ride home will require clears, too.
But that's something to worry about at a later time. The summer's peak has passed, and we're aiming for the downslope into Fall. The Labor Day Maine Event is looming on the horizon and that should be a great weekend as always. (Unfortunately, I'm not able to make it out to Olean for the pre-event revelry this year, so I'll just have to make up for that while up in Maine.)
So there you go. Nothing really crazy going on, on this end, but I'm getting miles on wherever I can. I need to do a complete brake service at some point as well (and I have all the fluids and parts), but the pads that are on the bike now still have some life in them so I'm going to stretch things out for a bit longer.
Here's hoping eveyone out there is doing well. Enough with the rambling, here's your picture.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
So what to ramble about? Well, the mornings have been getting chillier, which is to be expected this time of year. The air is clean, crisp, and best of all; dry. The humidity has seen fit to give us a break, and from what I'm hearing on the weather reports (ha!); we're in store for a good weekend.
Alas, the other thing that goes hand in hand with this time of year is the shortening of daylight. I'm still able to wear the sunglasses for the ride in (5:45am), but I'm pushing things. In a week or so, I'll have to make the switch over to clears. And then, sometime after that (but thankfully not for a few months, still); the ride home will require clears, too.
But that's something to worry about at a later time. The summer's peak has passed, and we're aiming for the downslope into Fall. The Labor Day Maine Event is looming on the horizon and that should be a great weekend as always. (Unfortunately, I'm not able to make it out to Olean for the pre-event revelry this year, so I'll just have to make up for that while up in Maine.)
So there you go. Nothing really crazy going on, on this end, but I'm getting miles on wherever I can. I need to do a complete brake service at some point as well (and I have all the fluids and parts), but the pads that are on the bike now still have some life in them so I'm going to stretch things out for a bit longer.
Here's hoping eveyone out there is doing well. Enough with the rambling, here's your picture.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Tuesday, August 13, 2013
Sunday Seaman's Run
Sorry, no pics again, as this website doesn't seem to want to cooperate. Anyway...
This past Sunday, the group got together and we headed over one town over, to help support a run put together by the cousin of our Posts' commander. It's a memorial run in memory of the cousin's father, and all proceeds go to a scholarship fund in his name.
The day was bright, clear, and sunny. Perfect for a nice ride through surrounding towns, especially when there's a nice LEO presence in the front of the column, clearing the way. Turnout was kind of light, given how nice a day it was. It seems the success of motorcycle runs is only breeding more runs, which is to be expected, but the downside is there are so many runs going on, every weekend, that the riding population gets thinned out pretty easily.
We still made the most of things, and, as just mentioned; had a nice ride which lasted for a little over an hour. Rolling back into the Elks lodge (where the run was out of), we were greeted with the sight of a huge smoker in the parking lot, it's rounded belly issuing wonderful scents which only turned our hungers up all the more.
Strolling inside, we surveyed the raffle items available and purchased our tickets, hoping to win something good (my streak of buying losing tickets, continues unabated). However, Billy and Mary cleaned up. It seemed that between the two of them, they were basically passing each other on the way up to the raffle tables and back to where we were seated. A winning ticket would be called, Mary would head up to select something and as she was turning to come back, another winning ticket would be called, and there went Billy, up to claim something. And when he was on his way back, Mary would be headed back up to collect something. Hey, it's all in the numbers, right? And in talking to Mary last night, we found out a big reason for their luck. It seems there was an anonymous donor at Sunday's run. He didn't have time to stick around for the raffles, but he'd purchased 120 tickets and then given them to Mary, with the stipulation that anything won on those tickets, be donated to the Shayne's run raffles. And sure enough; that guy's tickets turned out to be gold, and the Shayne's run raffle offerings were increased impressively.
Another good outcome from winning all the raffles - Another guy who was present, upon hearing about all their winnings being donated to their own son's memorial run (Shayne's Run), approached Mary and offered them a huge, still-in-the-box, Corona "event" umbrella that he had. Apparently this thing is somethingl ike 12' wide. So that was very nice of him.
After the raffles were all gone, we finished up our business and broke off into our own directions. It hadn't been a crazy day, but it had been a good day. And, a fair amount of change had been raised for a good cause.
Can't ask for much more than that.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
This past Sunday, the group got together and we headed over one town over, to help support a run put together by the cousin of our Posts' commander. It's a memorial run in memory of the cousin's father, and all proceeds go to a scholarship fund in his name.
The day was bright, clear, and sunny. Perfect for a nice ride through surrounding towns, especially when there's a nice LEO presence in the front of the column, clearing the way. Turnout was kind of light, given how nice a day it was. It seems the success of motorcycle runs is only breeding more runs, which is to be expected, but the downside is there are so many runs going on, every weekend, that the riding population gets thinned out pretty easily.
We still made the most of things, and, as just mentioned; had a nice ride which lasted for a little over an hour. Rolling back into the Elks lodge (where the run was out of), we were greeted with the sight of a huge smoker in the parking lot, it's rounded belly issuing wonderful scents which only turned our hungers up all the more.
Strolling inside, we surveyed the raffle items available and purchased our tickets, hoping to win something good (my streak of buying losing tickets, continues unabated). However, Billy and Mary cleaned up. It seemed that between the two of them, they were basically passing each other on the way up to the raffle tables and back to where we were seated. A winning ticket would be called, Mary would head up to select something and as she was turning to come back, another winning ticket would be called, and there went Billy, up to claim something. And when he was on his way back, Mary would be headed back up to collect something. Hey, it's all in the numbers, right? And in talking to Mary last night, we found out a big reason for their luck. It seems there was an anonymous donor at Sunday's run. He didn't have time to stick around for the raffles, but he'd purchased 120 tickets and then given them to Mary, with the stipulation that anything won on those tickets, be donated to the Shayne's run raffles. And sure enough; that guy's tickets turned out to be gold, and the Shayne's run raffle offerings were increased impressively.
Another good outcome from winning all the raffles - Another guy who was present, upon hearing about all their winnings being donated to their own son's memorial run (Shayne's Run), approached Mary and offered them a huge, still-in-the-box, Corona "event" umbrella that he had. Apparently this thing is somethingl ike 12' wide. So that was very nice of him.
After the raffles were all gone, we finished up our business and broke off into our own directions. It hadn't been a crazy day, but it had been a good day. And, a fair amount of change had been raised for a good cause.
Can't ask for much more than that.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Monday, August 5, 2013
SEMMSF Spells Irony (Sadly)
Well, Blogspot (the site that hosts this blog) is acting up again and won't let me post pics. Whatever, I only had a few anyway. Let's get right into the writeup, shall we?
Yesterday, a bunch of us gathered for the 7th annual Brian's Ride, sponsored by SEMMSF; the "South Eastern Massachusetts Motorcycle Survivor's Fund", which raises money to help victims (and their families) of motorycle accidents. It was unfortunately quite ironic that the event actually added to the need for survivor funds, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
The weather broke rather chilly in the morning, but the forecasters were calling for clear, bright skies with lots of sunshine. Thankfully, they were spot-on this time around, and we enjoyed quite a nice day, even if it did wind up being a bit hot.
We staged at first one spot and then a second, to allow folks to gather where they knew how to get to. First was the Post, and we had 7 bikes lined up and ready when it was time to depart. Ahh, but there was a fly in the ointment; one of our riders had neglected to fill their tank before arriving. A cardinal sin, for sure, and we made sure to verbally spank the person for their oversight.
Anyway, since this person didn't know the route to our second staging spot, there were a couple of plans tossed out; take the whole group to the gas station and then proceed from there, or, have Matt wait for the rider to fill up and then catch up with us at the second staging spot. Well, I thought a plan had been decided on (we'd all head off to the second spot and Matt +1 would catch up with us). All set, right?
Nope. The plan hadn't been clearly communicated to everyone, so when we all pulled out of the Post's parking lot, half of us went right, and the other half went left. Fcuk. Talk about well oiled machinery...
Anyway, my group headed off to staging spot #2 (Ed & Sue's house), parked in the grassy shade and set to chuckling about how messed up things had been going so far. After a short time, the rest of the crew arrived and we were all one unit again. Things would be smooth and simple for the rest of the day, right? Yep...nope.
From there, our next stop was the ride, proper. We got split up pretty well during our entrance, as there were just tons and tons of bikes arriving. There were 4 lanes for registering, and the folks manning the stations were sending folks into any lanes that had a brief opening. When the dust had settled, we were all spread out pretty well, but no matter, we've been through this before.
We checked out the vendors, and some of us threw hard earned money at the many raffle items offered up, hoping to win something really cool. Because we'd arrived toward the end of the registration period, we didn't have a lot of time for mosieing about, and soon had to head back to the parking lot for the official start. Before long, the bikes were fired up, and we were off. (I don't know how many bikes were there, but a rough guesstimate would be 500-600 bikes - so it took a fair amount of time for the whole procession to finally exit the parking lot.)
The ride was a clusterfcuk right from the start. There were newbies who didn't know how to ride in a group, and who were going too slowly, leaving huge gaps between themselves and the bike in front of them. This allowed cars to cut in, which led to further backups, breaks, and delays. We managed to pass a few of the slowpoke offenders, as well as the cars they'd allowed to slide into the column, and were soon making good time again.
And that's when the first of the days' accidents came into our path. We rounded a corner to a mass of bikes all backed up and crawling along. As we got closer to the source of the delay, we could see the problem off ot our right side; it was an on-ramp, and a motorcycle was in pieces with its rider still splayed out across it. EMS had just arrived and there were tons of bikes stopped and folks surrounding the scene, so we kept on going since there wasn't anything we could do if we'd stopped. When we got back to the end, we found out the rider had rear-ended a pickup truck and that she had had to be airlifted to the nearest hospital. We don't know the full story, or why she collided with the truck. Initial thoughts were that she'd been blocking at the on-ramp and that someone had plowed into her from behind, but apparently that wasn't the case. (I found out today that she had serious, but non-life threatening injuries, so it's good to hear things weren't as bad as they could have been.)
Also upon our return, we heard of two more accidents. It seems that at one point, a bike that was in one lane of travel decided they wanted to be in the next lane over, so they cut across without checking their mirror. Too bad, because if they had checked, they would have seen there was a bike right next to them. But, they didn't look, didn't see the other bike, and now there were three more people on their way to the hospital.
And lastly, there had been an accident immediately after we had pulled into the parking lot at the end of the run. Somehow a car had cut in front of a motorcycle that was turning into the parking lot and the bike had t-boned the car. It didn't make much sense, since the roadway had basically been blocked off by numerous cops, so how a car happened to be entering the parking lot at the same time as the bikes were, didn't make sense. But from what we could find out, it didn't seem like this last accident was too serious (but that rider was also headed to the hospital).
Those that had made it back safely were soon lined up for the customary food and beverage lines. We filled our stomachs, washed the dust out of our throats, listened to the band a bit, and watched as the raffle prizes went to other people (I gotta stop buying losing tickets!).
At this point, it'd been a long day, and those of us that had stuck around til the end, said our goodbyes to each other and broke for our respective homes.
So, was it a successful run? Well, from some aspects; yes. The 50/50 alone was about $2,200 and that doesn't even include the raffle ticket sales, or the registration proceeds. I'm sure they raised thousands and thousands of dollars which will go a long way toward helping people. However, for an event which benefits those injured in motorcycle accidents, it seemed that not enough was done to ensure the safety of those involved. Granted, you can't hold people's hands, and a run of this size is going to attract a lot of folks who just aren't good riders. But it seems a good safety speech at the start of things might have gone a long way to preventing some of the problems, and perhaps even some of the accidents.
I heard more than one person comment after the run, that they will not do that one again because it is just too dangerous. That's not a good thing, and it's definitely not what an organizer wants to hear. But in all honesty, I wonder if the organizer of this run really gets it. The guy had more than one opportunity on the stage, microphone in hand, to ask for thoughts/prayers for the folks who'd been injured - on his run - but instead, he chose to go on and on about "his run" and how great it was and that it deserved to only get bigger and bigger each year. Some folks just don't seem to get it.
But here's hoping the folks that were injured have a speedy recovery and are back out there as soon as possible. And here's also hoping that those folks who witnessed the accidents will learn from what they saw, and will spread the word; sometimes we are our own worst enemy. Not only do we need to keep an eye out for cages, but we also need to keep an eye out for (from) each other.
And that's not exactly comforting.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Yesterday, a bunch of us gathered for the 7th annual Brian's Ride, sponsored by SEMMSF; the "South Eastern Massachusetts Motorcycle Survivor's Fund", which raises money to help victims (and their families) of motorycle accidents. It was unfortunately quite ironic that the event actually added to the need for survivor funds, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
The weather broke rather chilly in the morning, but the forecasters were calling for clear, bright skies with lots of sunshine. Thankfully, they were spot-on this time around, and we enjoyed quite a nice day, even if it did wind up being a bit hot.
We staged at first one spot and then a second, to allow folks to gather where they knew how to get to. First was the Post, and we had 7 bikes lined up and ready when it was time to depart. Ahh, but there was a fly in the ointment; one of our riders had neglected to fill their tank before arriving. A cardinal sin, for sure, and we made sure to verbally spank the person for their oversight.
Anyway, since this person didn't know the route to our second staging spot, there were a couple of plans tossed out; take the whole group to the gas station and then proceed from there, or, have Matt wait for the rider to fill up and then catch up with us at the second staging spot. Well, I thought a plan had been decided on (we'd all head off to the second spot and Matt +1 would catch up with us). All set, right?
Nope. The plan hadn't been clearly communicated to everyone, so when we all pulled out of the Post's parking lot, half of us went right, and the other half went left. Fcuk. Talk about well oiled machinery...
Anyway, my group headed off to staging spot #2 (Ed & Sue's house), parked in the grassy shade and set to chuckling about how messed up things had been going so far. After a short time, the rest of the crew arrived and we were all one unit again. Things would be smooth and simple for the rest of the day, right? Yep...nope.
From there, our next stop was the ride, proper. We got split up pretty well during our entrance, as there were just tons and tons of bikes arriving. There were 4 lanes for registering, and the folks manning the stations were sending folks into any lanes that had a brief opening. When the dust had settled, we were all spread out pretty well, but no matter, we've been through this before.
We checked out the vendors, and some of us threw hard earned money at the many raffle items offered up, hoping to win something really cool. Because we'd arrived toward the end of the registration period, we didn't have a lot of time for mosieing about, and soon had to head back to the parking lot for the official start. Before long, the bikes were fired up, and we were off. (I don't know how many bikes were there, but a rough guesstimate would be 500-600 bikes - so it took a fair amount of time for the whole procession to finally exit the parking lot.)
The ride was a clusterfcuk right from the start. There were newbies who didn't know how to ride in a group, and who were going too slowly, leaving huge gaps between themselves and the bike in front of them. This allowed cars to cut in, which led to further backups, breaks, and delays. We managed to pass a few of the slowpoke offenders, as well as the cars they'd allowed to slide into the column, and were soon making good time again.
And that's when the first of the days' accidents came into our path. We rounded a corner to a mass of bikes all backed up and crawling along. As we got closer to the source of the delay, we could see the problem off ot our right side; it was an on-ramp, and a motorcycle was in pieces with its rider still splayed out across it. EMS had just arrived and there were tons of bikes stopped and folks surrounding the scene, so we kept on going since there wasn't anything we could do if we'd stopped. When we got back to the end, we found out the rider had rear-ended a pickup truck and that she had had to be airlifted to the nearest hospital. We don't know the full story, or why she collided with the truck. Initial thoughts were that she'd been blocking at the on-ramp and that someone had plowed into her from behind, but apparently that wasn't the case. (I found out today that she had serious, but non-life threatening injuries, so it's good to hear things weren't as bad as they could have been.)
Also upon our return, we heard of two more accidents. It seems that at one point, a bike that was in one lane of travel decided they wanted to be in the next lane over, so they cut across without checking their mirror. Too bad, because if they had checked, they would have seen there was a bike right next to them. But, they didn't look, didn't see the other bike, and now there were three more people on their way to the hospital.
And lastly, there had been an accident immediately after we had pulled into the parking lot at the end of the run. Somehow a car had cut in front of a motorcycle that was turning into the parking lot and the bike had t-boned the car. It didn't make much sense, since the roadway had basically been blocked off by numerous cops, so how a car happened to be entering the parking lot at the same time as the bikes were, didn't make sense. But from what we could find out, it didn't seem like this last accident was too serious (but that rider was also headed to the hospital).
Those that had made it back safely were soon lined up for the customary food and beverage lines. We filled our stomachs, washed the dust out of our throats, listened to the band a bit, and watched as the raffle prizes went to other people (I gotta stop buying losing tickets!).
At this point, it'd been a long day, and those of us that had stuck around til the end, said our goodbyes to each other and broke for our respective homes.
So, was it a successful run? Well, from some aspects; yes. The 50/50 alone was about $2,200 and that doesn't even include the raffle ticket sales, or the registration proceeds. I'm sure they raised thousands and thousands of dollars which will go a long way toward helping people. However, for an event which benefits those injured in motorcycle accidents, it seemed that not enough was done to ensure the safety of those involved. Granted, you can't hold people's hands, and a run of this size is going to attract a lot of folks who just aren't good riders. But it seems a good safety speech at the start of things might have gone a long way to preventing some of the problems, and perhaps even some of the accidents.
I heard more than one person comment after the run, that they will not do that one again because it is just too dangerous. That's not a good thing, and it's definitely not what an organizer wants to hear. But in all honesty, I wonder if the organizer of this run really gets it. The guy had more than one opportunity on the stage, microphone in hand, to ask for thoughts/prayers for the folks who'd been injured - on his run - but instead, he chose to go on and on about "his run" and how great it was and that it deserved to only get bigger and bigger each year. Some folks just don't seem to get it.
But here's hoping the folks that were injured have a speedy recovery and are back out there as soon as possible. And here's also hoping that those folks who witnessed the accidents will learn from what they saw, and will spread the word; sometimes we are our own worst enemy. Not only do we need to keep an eye out for cages, but we also need to keep an eye out for (from) each other.
And that's not exactly comforting.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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