Not a lot going on with the bike right now, as anyone in the northern half of the US can attest to. Weather’s been pretty chilly (No way, really Dave? Halfway through November? Gee, go figure). Still been riding to work a lot. Not yesterday or today, though. Temps in the low 30’s with heavy rain. I can deal with cold temps…and I can deal with rain…but when they arrive together…well, not so much. Weather this morning is even calling for chance of some snow showers later. Bleah.
I finally broke down and bought a windshield a couple of days ago. Picked it up off of eBay for $200 so that’s not a bad price. Supposed to be new-in-box, so we shall see. Should take about a week or so to arrive. I’ll get that thing slapped on and we’ll see how much of an improvement it makes. (I’ll probably be cursing myself for not having gotten one sooner…)
On tap for the weekend; yard cleanup tomorrow (should be fun; all the leaves are soaked to the ground), and then on Sunday, my buddy Mike (the guy that cooks the pig at my pig roasts) is hosting his annual turkey-plucking event. He raises turkeys for Thanksgiving and then whoever has bought one, has to come over and help him...prepare it. He does the actual...(how to say this delicately)...removal of life, so to speak, and then the rest of us take care of the plucking and such. He puts on a big spread for the day and everyone that attends, brings something more (potluck style) and it's a pretty decent party, all around. I'm planning on bringing my camera, maybe I'll throw some pics up next week. (I'll try to refrain from the gory stuff).
Sunday is also the anniversary of losing a brother of mine, so I'll probably find a quiet place for a bit, hoist a beer and spend some time remembering him.
That’s all I’ve got, folks. Have a great weekend.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Friday, November 16, 2007
Friday, November 9, 2007
Ticket to ride...ing gear
So my ticket for next year’s Rendezvous showed up last night – finally. I wasn’t sure what the story was, I ordered it a month ago. I guess they needed to get them printed or something. But at any rate; it’s here and I’m going there! Only something like 217 days to go! Bring it!
Something else I wanted to touch on; the riding gear I picked up this year, back in March or so. I didn’t really get a chance to test it back then because the neck injury thing kept me off the bike for a couple of months and by the time I was back to riding full time, the weather had warmed up a bit. But now that temps are back down into the 20’s and 30’s, I gotta give props to the gear.
I’d realized some time ago that leather just wasn’t the answer. Sure, as riders, we carry a certain expected association with leather and many folks just equate one with the other. But leather sucks! Sure it offers protection against the blacktop, should (when) we go down, but aside from that; it’s bulky and stiff, it offers no insulation (it only blocks the wind – if you want insulation, you need to either go with a liner or start packing on the layers), and, in my own personal experience, the zippers just cannot be trusted. They break constantly, and I’ve bought high-quality stuff so it’s not like I picked something up from the guy on the corner.
Anyway, so I had been looking into the textile clothing for a while but just couldn’t find a deal that I could live with. This stuff is expensive! But this past springtime, a few of us went in to the Expo center in Boston to check out a bike show. There was a Fieldsheer vendor there that was selling jackets and pants and really decent prices. So I dropped $150 for the jacket and $125 for the pants. And I tell ya; they were well worth the cash.
Back when I wore chaps (in the wintertime), I used to have to start with a pair of sweatpants, then the jeans and then the chaps. Sure, that was comfortable…not. I walked so stiffly that I looked like I had a load in my drawers. And the chill would still eventually make it’s way in to the thighs, knees and whatever else was taking the wind in a direct hit. The jacket? I used to have to stack a bandana, then a neck wrap, and then the jacket collar, all in the hopes that I hadn’t left any cracks for the wind to get in. But since the leather is so stiff, invariably; the chill would be half way down my chest before I was 10 miles out. To try and keep the rest of my upper body warm, I’d have to layer shirts and sweatshirts underneath, to the point where I looked like a leather-clad version of that kid from Christmas Story, that couldn’t move inside his snowsuit. Good times!
The textile stuff is flexible, not bulky, and I don’t need anything underneath it (aside from the liner it comes with). As I’ve rolled out of my driveway so far this week, the temps have been 31, 32, 34, 27, and 31. People keep asking me if I’m freezing. Nope. Well, the face is a bit chilled - I still have layers on that, but if I wind up going with a windshield, that’ll resolve that issue. But my chest, back, arms, legs – everything that’s covered by the textile stuff, is fine and dandy, roasty toasty.
The coldest I’ve ever ridden in was 13 degrees. Now that I’m packing some decent riding gear, I’m aiming to break that record. (Just keep that white stuff away – the riding gear ain’t gonna do much to help with that…)
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Something else I wanted to touch on; the riding gear I picked up this year, back in March or so. I didn’t really get a chance to test it back then because the neck injury thing kept me off the bike for a couple of months and by the time I was back to riding full time, the weather had warmed up a bit. But now that temps are back down into the 20’s and 30’s, I gotta give props to the gear.
I’d realized some time ago that leather just wasn’t the answer. Sure, as riders, we carry a certain expected association with leather and many folks just equate one with the other. But leather sucks! Sure it offers protection against the blacktop, should (when) we go down, but aside from that; it’s bulky and stiff, it offers no insulation (it only blocks the wind – if you want insulation, you need to either go with a liner or start packing on the layers), and, in my own personal experience, the zippers just cannot be trusted. They break constantly, and I’ve bought high-quality stuff so it’s not like I picked something up from the guy on the corner.
Anyway, so I had been looking into the textile clothing for a while but just couldn’t find a deal that I could live with. This stuff is expensive! But this past springtime, a few of us went in to the Expo center in Boston to check out a bike show. There was a Fieldsheer vendor there that was selling jackets and pants and really decent prices. So I dropped $150 for the jacket and $125 for the pants. And I tell ya; they were well worth the cash.
Back when I wore chaps (in the wintertime), I used to have to start with a pair of sweatpants, then the jeans and then the chaps. Sure, that was comfortable…not. I walked so stiffly that I looked like I had a load in my drawers. And the chill would still eventually make it’s way in to the thighs, knees and whatever else was taking the wind in a direct hit. The jacket? I used to have to stack a bandana, then a neck wrap, and then the jacket collar, all in the hopes that I hadn’t left any cracks for the wind to get in. But since the leather is so stiff, invariably; the chill would be half way down my chest before I was 10 miles out. To try and keep the rest of my upper body warm, I’d have to layer shirts and sweatshirts underneath, to the point where I looked like a leather-clad version of that kid from Christmas Story, that couldn’t move inside his snowsuit. Good times!
The textile stuff is flexible, not bulky, and I don’t need anything underneath it (aside from the liner it comes with). As I’ve rolled out of my driveway so far this week, the temps have been 31, 32, 34, 27, and 31. People keep asking me if I’m freezing. Nope. Well, the face is a bit chilled - I still have layers on that, but if I wind up going with a windshield, that’ll resolve that issue. But my chest, back, arms, legs – everything that’s covered by the textile stuff, is fine and dandy, roasty toasty.
The coldest I’ve ever ridden in was 13 degrees. Now that I’m packing some decent riding gear, I’m aiming to break that record. (Just keep that white stuff away – the riding gear ain’t gonna do much to help with that…)
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Monday, November 5, 2007
I thought this blog was s'posed to be about riding?
Another quiet weekend for the bike. Did a little bit of riding here and there, but nothing major. 'Bout this time of year, I start heading into 'hibernation' mode, where I focus the energies onto the house. You know; get all the stuff done that I should have been working on during the summer, instead of going out riding all the time. (Yeah, like there's a chance of that happening.)
Current project is revamping the living room lighting. Tore out the 8' long (circa 1970's) fluorescent light that was over the mantle, installed a new ceiling fixture in the center of the room and will put in some bar-lights over the mantle. Had to run a new line over to install a separate switch to split the two lights and figured I might as well run in a new receptacle while I'm at it. (Can never have enough outlets, ya know?). So I'm in the process of doing that; I tied the new line into an existing box in the attic yesterday and started to run the line down into the wall. Have to pick up a deep fixture-box at Home Depot for all the pigtails that will be needed to keep the outlet always-hot and still have the switch work properly. Hoping to get that up and running by the end of the week, then it'll be wall-repair, and then new paint for the walls and ceiling. What fun!
How 'bout them Pats, huh? What a frikkin' game! I'm sure they knew they were going to have a tough time with the Colts, but who knew they'd have such a hard time with the officials?? Can you say "Bullhsit Calls"? Those two interference calls they made against us were utter and complete BS. Even the commentators, notorious for being against the Pats, were saying there was no interference. And then, to add insult to injury, they don't even call the blatant interference that the Colts made on Faulk. Unreal. But it just makes the victory all the sweeter. 9-and-0, Baby!
32 degrees on the way in this morning. Felt good, though, I must have managed to cover up all the holes that were letting air in. Talked to a motorcycle cop at the gym this morning to pick his brain on windshields. Haven't picked one up yet, but haven't shelved the idea, either. Also kicking around the idea of installing some Hippo Hands that I bought...oh...about 4 years ago. (No sense in rushing these things.)
Aside from that; squeeze in what riding you can, while you can. Cold stuff is coming soon.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Current project is revamping the living room lighting. Tore out the 8' long (circa 1970's) fluorescent light that was over the mantle, installed a new ceiling fixture in the center of the room and will put in some bar-lights over the mantle. Had to run a new line over to install a separate switch to split the two lights and figured I might as well run in a new receptacle while I'm at it. (Can never have enough outlets, ya know?). So I'm in the process of doing that; I tied the new line into an existing box in the attic yesterday and started to run the line down into the wall. Have to pick up a deep fixture-box at Home Depot for all the pigtails that will be needed to keep the outlet always-hot and still have the switch work properly. Hoping to get that up and running by the end of the week, then it'll be wall-repair, and then new paint for the walls and ceiling. What fun!
How 'bout them Pats, huh? What a frikkin' game! I'm sure they knew they were going to have a tough time with the Colts, but who knew they'd have such a hard time with the officials?? Can you say "Bullhsit Calls"? Those two interference calls they made against us were utter and complete BS. Even the commentators, notorious for being against the Pats, were saying there was no interference. And then, to add insult to injury, they don't even call the blatant interference that the Colts made on Faulk. Unreal. But it just makes the victory all the sweeter. 9-and-0, Baby!
32 degrees on the way in this morning. Felt good, though, I must have managed to cover up all the holes that were letting air in. Talked to a motorcycle cop at the gym this morning to pick his brain on windshields. Haven't picked one up yet, but haven't shelved the idea, either. Also kicking around the idea of installing some Hippo Hands that I bought...oh...about 4 years ago. (No sense in rushing these things.)
Aside from that; squeeze in what riding you can, while you can. Cold stuff is coming soon.
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Thursday, November 1, 2007
All Hallow's Eve
So my work Halloween party was last Friday, as mentioned previously. I usually make my own costumes and this year I came up with a Headless Horseman one. Bought all the materials, sewed up some shoulders (yes, I can actually sew), sewed on a vest, some brass buttons, a bandolier, and finished things off with some boot coverings. My ‘head’ was one of those foam pumpkins with an evil face carved into it, then I put orange crepe paper across the holes to give it an orange glow and put a very-bright mini flashlight inside for illumination. The hatchet was picked up at iParty, brought home and painted a bright, blood red along the edge, and was good to go. All in all, I think it came out pretty decent.
Another thing I love doing at Halloween; throwing on my costume, heading over to see my niece and nephew and showing it off to them. They get a real kick out of it each year - they throw their costumes on, too, and we ham it up a bit and take a couple of pics. Thanks to my wonderful worthless camera, they came out blurry, but you get the idea. My niece was a “Punk Pirate” and my nephew was an Alien. (An alien who just happened to commandeer a Headless Horseman’s axe, it appears…)
(A funny side-note; their dog Sadie knows me quite well and was all up in my face as I was putting this thing on. Tail wagging, snuffling against me, all excited for attention, etc. As soon as I got the whole thing on and stood up and looked at her, she totally didn’t know who I was. Started backing up, tail tucked between her legs, trying to figure out where I’d gone and who this stranger suddenly was. So of course I had to egg her on by growling and taking a quick step towards her. She didn’t like that at all.)
Lastly; every year on Halloween-day, I wear my skull mask for the ride in to work. Most folks get it. There are some that just give me weird looks, but I do get a lot of smiles and thumbs-up. Kids waiting for the bus always point and wave, so that’s pretty cool, too.
Hope your hauntings were happy and that the ghosts and ghouls took it easy on you…until next year…
Another thing I love doing at Halloween; throwing on my costume, heading over to see my niece and nephew and showing it off to them. They get a real kick out of it each year - they throw their costumes on, too, and we ham it up a bit and take a couple of pics. Thanks to my wonderful worthless camera, they came out blurry, but you get the idea. My niece was a “Punk Pirate” and my nephew was an Alien. (An alien who just happened to commandeer a Headless Horseman’s axe, it appears…)
(A funny side-note; their dog Sadie knows me quite well and was all up in my face as I was putting this thing on. Tail wagging, snuffling against me, all excited for attention, etc. As soon as I got the whole thing on and stood up and looked at her, she totally didn’t know who I was. Started backing up, tail tucked between her legs, trying to figure out where I’d gone and who this stranger suddenly was. So of course I had to egg her on by growling and taking a quick step towards her. She didn’t like that at all.)
Lastly; every year on Halloween-day, I wear my skull mask for the ride in to work. Most folks get it. There are some that just give me weird looks, but I do get a lot of smiles and thumbs-up. Kids waiting for the bus always point and wave, so that’s pretty cool, too.
Hope your hauntings were happy and that the ghosts and ghouls took it easy on you…until next year…
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Monday, October 29, 2007
Costumes, Carnage and Common Sense
Not much to blog about this week. My company's Halloween party was on Friday, I dressed up as a Headless Horseman and won a Bose Docking station. Not too shabby. I'll try and get a pic up here this week - I always dress up /compare costumes on Halloween night with my niece and nephew so I'll get some shots taken with them.
Saturday, I had some folks over for an annual heathen ritual whereby we slaughter some innocent gourds. We each chose our victim, sliced into their crowns, laid bare their insides and slashed our vile designs into their flesh. That's right; it was pumpkin carving time.
Saturday, I had some folks over for an annual heathen ritual whereby we slaughter some innocent gourds. We each chose our victim, sliced into their crowns, laid bare their insides and slashed our vile designs into their flesh. That's right; it was pumpkin carving time.
That night, it was our beloved Sox taking game three of the World Series. Sunday; I wached the phenominal Patriots dismantle the Redskins, followed shortly by the aforementioned Sox winning game 4 - and the Series. It's a good time to be a New England fan.
31 degrees this morning as I rolled out of my driveway, headed for the gym. First time back in a week and it felt good to throw some iron around for a bit. A couple of the guys get a kick out of the fact that I'm still riding. I just smile and remind them that once the snow arrives, they'll be wishing they'd ridden when they had the chance.
However, I think the time has come for me to take a step forward in the direction of intelligence and distance myself a slight bit from ego and bravado. It would be the end of an era, so to speak. But then again, all great sacrifices are somewhat akin to such a process. What the hell am I talking about? I'm thinking about finally breaking down and getting a windshield. Don't get me wrong; I love the layered affect, where you don neck bandana, face mask, hat, fleece neck warmer, head wrap, ear bandana and a hood - all to the point where you cannot turn your head to see what's coming at you from either side. Then on top of all that, you hunch forward as if you could find some level of wind protection behind that 1" thick tube of metal that you steer with. What fun! So perhaps the time has indeed come to take that step. We'll see. Maybe tomorrow - but I think it's supposed to warm all the way up to 34 so I'm ok for now. The really cold weather isn't coming for a week, so I still have plenty of time. :-D
Ride Hard, Take Chances.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Fall Roundup Ride
Thursday night. Telephone. Ringing. It’s Ed. It’s Ed and he’s got an offer for me; he and a couple of his buddies are heading up to Vermont on Saturday, to do an overnight. Am I interested in joining them? Hellz yeah! The weather was calling for heavy rain on Friday night, but then clearing and warming for the rest of the weekend. Perfect weather for a Fall ride.
Saturday morning dawned damp and dreary, and with a bit of a chill in the air. The storm from the night before had been mighty, as evidenced by the tree debris all over the roadways. The rain had ended, but the clouds hadn’t yet relinquished their stranglehold on the sky. Donning our gear, we made a pact with the sun; it would shred the clouds, providing us with some welcome warmth, and we’d shred some pavement, leading the way westward for it’s daily trek.
True to our word, we rocked and rolled up 495, picked up Rte 2 and hammered our way westwards as the sun began to hold up it’s end of the bargain; the sky lightening behind us. Larger and larger breaks began appearing above us, and before long, blue was far outweighing grey - and found us crossing the state line, passing into New Hampshire.
Picking up Rte 9 out of Keene, we grazed the outskirts of the Green Mountains, then took them head-on. Slicing the corners we approached - and then pulled into - the lookout atop Hogback Mountain. The foliage was pretty amazing…
Firing up and rolling back out, we set the miles to passing beneath our tires. Our destination was Bennington, and we soon found ourselves within city limits. A hotel appeared before us, it’s welcoming “VACANCY” sign beckoning to weary road travelers. We commandeered a parking spot and headed towards the lobby. The lady working the counter informed us that they were all booked up – apparently unkempt and unshowered bikers aren’t welcome there. Shrugging, we headed back to the bikes and meandered a bit further down the road until we managed to secure evening accommodations at the famous Crackside…er…Kirkside Motor Lodge, now located conveniently beside the town church – presently in the process of being dismantled. (Religion has failed to take hold in this part of the village.)
After checking in and unpacking our bikes, we strolled uptown and found ourselves an Irish tavern for some solid and liquid sustenance. Having secured those items, we discussed our plans for the rest of the afternoon. The Sox weren’t on until 8 so that left us a bit of time to kill. And while we were sitting inside a perfectly good tavern, we felt our daylight would be better spent by checking out a local battle monument that I’ve been wanting to check out for years.
(Each year, when I make the trip from NY to Maine, with the Olean crew, we always pass this thing - the Bennington Battle Monument - and I always tell myself that I’m going to check it out someday. Well, that day would be today.)
It was a short jaunt to the outer skirts of town. We rumbled up the entrance street, the stone spire sticking far above the surrounding trees. Finding a spot to park, we did a walk-around, around the base, and checked out the statue of John Stark, and checked out the stonework of the monument itself.
Hey John, which way to the beer store? That way? Thanks man!
The story behind the monument; it was built to commemorate John Stark’s victory over the British, many moons ago. When they were designing what to build, the Governor at the time wanted something that was bigger than anything else around. He got his wish; the structure is 306 feet tall and is the tallest man-made structure in Vermont. There’s an observatory at 200 feet (which is as high as visitors can go - only maintenance people have access to the top 100 feet). So we plopped our $2 down for the ticket and took the ride up. Stepping out of the elevator, the first thing I noticed was the strong wind blowing through the open windows. Each of the 4 sides had protective, safety windows installed, but they were drawn open to allow visitors to poke their heads through and check out the scenery. Which I did…
Check out those maples!!
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Saturday morning dawned damp and dreary, and with a bit of a chill in the air. The storm from the night before had been mighty, as evidenced by the tree debris all over the roadways. The rain had ended, but the clouds hadn’t yet relinquished their stranglehold on the sky. Donning our gear, we made a pact with the sun; it would shred the clouds, providing us with some welcome warmth, and we’d shred some pavement, leading the way westward for it’s daily trek.
True to our word, we rocked and rolled up 495, picked up Rte 2 and hammered our way westwards as the sun began to hold up it’s end of the bargain; the sky lightening behind us. Larger and larger breaks began appearing above us, and before long, blue was far outweighing grey - and found us crossing the state line, passing into New Hampshire.
Picking up Rte 9 out of Keene, we grazed the outskirts of the Green Mountains, then took them head-on. Slicing the corners we approached - and then pulled into - the lookout atop Hogback Mountain. The foliage was pretty amazing…
Firing up and rolling back out, we set the miles to passing beneath our tires. Our destination was Bennington, and we soon found ourselves within city limits. A hotel appeared before us, it’s welcoming “VACANCY” sign beckoning to weary road travelers. We commandeered a parking spot and headed towards the lobby. The lady working the counter informed us that they were all booked up – apparently unkempt and unshowered bikers aren’t welcome there. Shrugging, we headed back to the bikes and meandered a bit further down the road until we managed to secure evening accommodations at the famous Crackside…er…Kirkside Motor Lodge, now located conveniently beside the town church – presently in the process of being dismantled. (Religion has failed to take hold in this part of the village.)
After checking in and unpacking our bikes, we strolled uptown and found ourselves an Irish tavern for some solid and liquid sustenance. Having secured those items, we discussed our plans for the rest of the afternoon. The Sox weren’t on until 8 so that left us a bit of time to kill. And while we were sitting inside a perfectly good tavern, we felt our daylight would be better spent by checking out a local battle monument that I’ve been wanting to check out for years.
(Each year, when I make the trip from NY to Maine, with the Olean crew, we always pass this thing - the Bennington Battle Monument - and I always tell myself that I’m going to check it out someday. Well, that day would be today.)
It was a short jaunt to the outer skirts of town. We rumbled up the entrance street, the stone spire sticking far above the surrounding trees. Finding a spot to park, we did a walk-around, around the base, and checked out the statue of John Stark, and checked out the stonework of the monument itself.
Hey John, which way to the beer store? That way? Thanks man!
The story behind the monument; it was built to commemorate John Stark’s victory over the British, many moons ago. When they were designing what to build, the Governor at the time wanted something that was bigger than anything else around. He got his wish; the structure is 306 feet tall and is the tallest man-made structure in Vermont. There’s an observatory at 200 feet (which is as high as visitors can go - only maintenance people have access to the top 100 feet). So we plopped our $2 down for the ticket and took the ride up. Stepping out of the elevator, the first thing I noticed was the strong wind blowing through the open windows. Each of the 4 sides had protective, safety windows installed, but they were drawn open to allow visitors to poke their heads through and check out the scenery. Which I did…
Check out those maples!!
We came back down - to find that the rain clouds had resumed control of the sky. We took cover on the downwind side of the obelisk until things abated, dried off the seats and fired things up. From there, it was a short side-trip to the package store and then back to the motel to do some priming before heading back to the Irish tavern to catch the Sox. We milled about for a while, polished off what we’d picked up, locked everything up and walked back to the bar.
Before long, our charm and charisma had won the hearts and minds of the locals on both sides of the bar. Hell, even the owner was buying us our drinks. We were laughing it up, watching the Sox dismantle the Indians, talking about the upcoming Pats game, just general good times. There was even the token grumpy Irish bartender, and we managed to get him to smile before we left. After the game was won, the owner (TJ) gave me his card (I still have it - it’s good for a free drink on any future visits!) and told us that he and his friends were heading to another bar that had a later last-call, and that we should head there as well. He gave me the name of the bouncer that would b working (Scooby) and said to tell this Scooby guy that we knew him (TJ) and we’d get in without having to pay the cover. Sweet! So they left and we finished our drinks and started the walk. Well, our minds were light (from watching the Sox victory - certainly not from the libations), and we wound up forgetting the directions, and the name of the bar we were looking for. Taking a gamble, we took a side street and walked…and walked…and walked until we finally came upon what sounded like quite the happening bar. So we walked in and when the bouncer approached, I confidently said “Hey Scooby, what’s happenin’?” To which he replied “What?” "Uhm…are you Scooby?" "Nope. There’s no Scooby here." "Oh (Damn - wrong bar!) Ok then…so how much is the cover?"
The bar itself was a mess of 19 and 20 year olds…oh wait…no, they were all 21 (wink wink) and the drinks were kinda hefty on the wallet. We had a couple of beers, listened to the band knock out a couple of not-bad AC/DC renditions, politely declined an offer to jump on a "party bus" that was headed to a bar in NY which stayed open until 4am, and then decided to head on back to the motel.
Arriving safely back at said motel, the guys headed off to sleep…but I had other plans. See, the scaffolding on the church beside the motel had been in the back of my mind for a while now. Climb it? Why, I would never do such a thing. To do that would involve trespassing, and I would never stoop to such activity. Being the law-abiding citizen that I am, I opted for going to bed, instead.
And I have no idea how these pictures wound up on my camera.
Before long, our charm and charisma had won the hearts and minds of the locals on both sides of the bar. Hell, even the owner was buying us our drinks. We were laughing it up, watching the Sox dismantle the Indians, talking about the upcoming Pats game, just general good times. There was even the token grumpy Irish bartender, and we managed to get him to smile before we left. After the game was won, the owner (TJ) gave me his card (I still have it - it’s good for a free drink on any future visits!) and told us that he and his friends were heading to another bar that had a later last-call, and that we should head there as well. He gave me the name of the bouncer that would b working (Scooby) and said to tell this Scooby guy that we knew him (TJ) and we’d get in without having to pay the cover. Sweet! So they left and we finished our drinks and started the walk. Well, our minds were light (from watching the Sox victory - certainly not from the libations), and we wound up forgetting the directions, and the name of the bar we were looking for. Taking a gamble, we took a side street and walked…and walked…and walked until we finally came upon what sounded like quite the happening bar. So we walked in and when the bouncer approached, I confidently said “Hey Scooby, what’s happenin’?” To which he replied “What?” "Uhm…are you Scooby?" "Nope. There’s no Scooby here." "Oh (Damn - wrong bar!) Ok then…so how much is the cover?"
The bar itself was a mess of 19 and 20 year olds…oh wait…no, they were all 21 (wink wink) and the drinks were kinda hefty on the wallet. We had a couple of beers, listened to the band knock out a couple of not-bad AC/DC renditions, politely declined an offer to jump on a "party bus" that was headed to a bar in NY which stayed open until 4am, and then decided to head on back to the motel.
Arriving safely back at said motel, the guys headed off to sleep…but I had other plans. See, the scaffolding on the church beside the motel had been in the back of my mind for a while now. Climb it? Why, I would never do such a thing. To do that would involve trespassing, and I would never stoop to such activity. Being the law-abiding citizen that I am, I opted for going to bed, instead.
And I have no idea how these pictures wound up on my camera.
Sunday morning dawned bright and welcoming. We packed up, cleared out the room, and broke for the edge of town. We picked up Rte 7 and headed south into Mass, to Rte 2 east. Passed through some of the Berkshire mountains and saw some AMAZING scenery. Snapped some pics while we were rolling along, but wasn’t able to get pics of the truly amazing stuff, as the roadway was too twisty-turny to allow for screwing around with a camera. But here’s what I was able to get;
And here’s a backwards, over-the-shoulder pic of Ed, waving to the camera. Hi Ed!
Not sure what was up with this little guy, but he hitchhiked through most of Western Mass. I don’t know where he was headed, but we must have passed his stop because he just up and disappeared at one point. Didn’t even leave a tip. Hey you little bastard, “Gas, Grass or Ass - nobody rides for free!”
And that was the overnighter to Bennington - a sweet Fall roundup ride. Thanks for the call, Ed!
And here’s a backwards, over-the-shoulder pic of Ed, waving to the camera. Hi Ed!
Not sure what was up with this little guy, but he hitchhiked through most of Western Mass. I don’t know where he was headed, but we must have passed his stop because he just up and disappeared at one point. Didn’t even leave a tip. Hey you little bastard, “Gas, Grass or Ass - nobody rides for free!”
And that was the overnighter to Bennington - a sweet Fall roundup ride. Thanks for the call, Ed!
Ride Hard, Take Chances
Monday, October 15, 2007
2007 Halloween Run
The information had been posted on-line, the phone calls had been made, and the masks had been lined up. What was all the excitement about? It was time for the annual Halloween Run!
As in years past, the plan was to meet up at Ronnie’s house for some pre-run libations. Oh sure, we could head over and line up with the rest of the masses - sit around for a couple of hours, waiting for the signal to fire up the engines…and then wait…and wait…and wait until it was finally our turn to kick down into gear and start snail-pacing in a forward direction. But we’d rather take a ride over to a buddy’s house, kick back with some frosties, and share some laughs. Those of us needing some last-minute adjustments to their rides could rest assured that the rest of us that were just standing around would be quick to lend a hand or be ready with the needed tools. Ha ha, right! In our world, the only thing that can be counted on is that we’ll be hiding the tools and hoarding the frosties!
But I’m getting ahead of myself. How about some history? Years ago, this run was one of the major Fall events to attend - not just for the enjoyment of a nice fall ride, or the amusement of seeing so many riders decked out in costumes, but for the after party! The run would wind up in front of the Cavan (tavern) in Hyde Park, bikes would commandeer both sides of the roadway, the lines at the bar would swell within seconds, and that’s when the real show would begin. Once having been attended to by the goddesses behind the bar, the patrons would pour back out on the concrete sidewalks to bear witness to the circus presented before them. Bikes of all makes and models would begin setting themselves apart from the parked witnesses. With a twist of their throttles and a roar from their engines, they would declare a patch of pavement as their own. They‘d bite into the claimed blacktop with ferocity, masticating it up with a healthy dose of rear tire, and spitting everything back to the sky in a rich, thick cloud. This in turn would of course be met with roars of approval from the studio audience. Inevitably, some hot classic cars would also make an appearance, ambling up and down, tossing their throaty roars into the mix. This street party would go on for hours, and as such, was the highlight for the day’s events.
But like all great things, this, too, would come to an end. Complaints from the neighbors (whatever for?) and the loss of patience/tolerance from the local constabulatory, meant the party was over. For the past four or five years, the run has ended at various bars and taverns, far away from Hyde Park. We usually break off near the end and rendezvous at whoever’s house is closest and knock back some more brew-ha-ha’s and talk about the day. This year, however, the run would end at a decent biker bar next to Gillette Stadium; The Outlaw. And, the bar was putting on a burnout contest and even had prizes for the best and second-best burnouts done. Now this was something akin to after-parties of old! The Outlaw hosts a weekly Bike Night during the summer and they have a burnout pit there full-time, that anyone can just roll into and fire it up if they like. No permission is needed, no advance warning is given. More than once, I have seen an otherwise off-night be awakened in such a manner. The stillness of the night is suddenly shattered by the sound of someone looking to make a contribution to the bottom line of their favorite tire company. But I digress (as usual). My point is that this year would find me in attendance at the end rally point once again, and up close and personal to The Pit.
The group pulling out of my driveway was smaller than that of years past; only three bikes. No worries; the weather is looking good for the day (mid 60’s, mostly sunny and clear), we should have a good spectator turnout along the route, and most importantly; we’re riding!
We gassed up at a nearby gas station and rolled out hard onto Rte 1, headed for Dedham and our rally point with the rest of the crew. We made the necessary right turn, bobbed and weaved our way past a couple of stop signs and rolled up upon Ronnie’s abode - and were greeted by the welcome sight of bikes lined up and waiting. We lined our rides up with the rest of the bikes, shut the engines down and said our hello’s.
We milled around for a bit, catching up on times and downing a few road sodas. When it was time to depart, we donned the masks/costumes, fired the bikes to life and hit the roads - the excitement and anticipation was building! I was running the Sweep position and we hadn’t gone more than a few miles before a car was riding up on our asses, the driver hanging out of his window, hollering to us. I cut over to the side and signaled the guy to come up beside me so that I could find out what his deal was. Turns out he was just a fan of the whole spectacle and only wanted to know if the annual run was going on today. He was more than excited to find out that things were, in fact, planned for today and with that, he happily pulled back to allow me room to catch back up with the rest of the crew.
We arrived at the starting point, were waved into the lot, paid our dues ($20 each!) and then coasted over to the far edge of the parking lot. We picked up where we’d left off with the refreshments and awaited word that things were kicking off. We did roll up closer to the front after a bit, but it was still a lot of wait and wait again. I surveyed the scene to see what had shown up for costumes - lots of cool masks, and a not a few instances of solid effort.
Zig’s contribution to the day’s festivites;
The announcement was made and the bikes started roaring to life. Those that had been caught unawares (or who had not been paying attention), scrambled to get to their bikes before the sea of motion passed them by.
The run was good; nice turnout along the route, plenty of kids - some even in costume themselves - lots of happy people enjoying the fun. Roughly 50 miles later, we arrived at the Outlaw and sidled up the entrance, fighting for position with every other rider there. The folks doing parking detail wanted us to follow the crowd and park in the middle of the lot but there wasn’t a chance of that happening. Spotting an opportunity, we split the gap between two bikes and broke for the far edge of the parking lot. We wanted the option of an open lane to the exit, should we need it. And as luck would have it, we would up very close to the burnout pit - I love when a plan comes together!
We hit the beer line, hit the food line, hit the beer line again, bought rounds for the crew, had rounds bought for us, shared laughs, caught up with folks not seen for a while, etc. Just general all-around good fun had by all. Lisa and I did the obligatory walk-around to see what cool rides we might find, and there were some decent offerings;
As in years past, the plan was to meet up at Ronnie’s house for some pre-run libations. Oh sure, we could head over and line up with the rest of the masses - sit around for a couple of hours, waiting for the signal to fire up the engines…and then wait…and wait…and wait until it was finally our turn to kick down into gear and start snail-pacing in a forward direction. But we’d rather take a ride over to a buddy’s house, kick back with some frosties, and share some laughs. Those of us needing some last-minute adjustments to their rides could rest assured that the rest of us that were just standing around would be quick to lend a hand or be ready with the needed tools. Ha ha, right! In our world, the only thing that can be counted on is that we’ll be hiding the tools and hoarding the frosties!
But I’m getting ahead of myself. How about some history? Years ago, this run was one of the major Fall events to attend - not just for the enjoyment of a nice fall ride, or the amusement of seeing so many riders decked out in costumes, but for the after party! The run would wind up in front of the Cavan (tavern) in Hyde Park, bikes would commandeer both sides of the roadway, the lines at the bar would swell within seconds, and that’s when the real show would begin. Once having been attended to by the goddesses behind the bar, the patrons would pour back out on the concrete sidewalks to bear witness to the circus presented before them. Bikes of all makes and models would begin setting themselves apart from the parked witnesses. With a twist of their throttles and a roar from their engines, they would declare a patch of pavement as their own. They‘d bite into the claimed blacktop with ferocity, masticating it up with a healthy dose of rear tire, and spitting everything back to the sky in a rich, thick cloud. This in turn would of course be met with roars of approval from the studio audience. Inevitably, some hot classic cars would also make an appearance, ambling up and down, tossing their throaty roars into the mix. This street party would go on for hours, and as such, was the highlight for the day’s events.
But like all great things, this, too, would come to an end. Complaints from the neighbors (whatever for?) and the loss of patience/tolerance from the local constabulatory, meant the party was over. For the past four or five years, the run has ended at various bars and taverns, far away from Hyde Park. We usually break off near the end and rendezvous at whoever’s house is closest and knock back some more brew-ha-ha’s and talk about the day. This year, however, the run would end at a decent biker bar next to Gillette Stadium; The Outlaw. And, the bar was putting on a burnout contest and even had prizes for the best and second-best burnouts done. Now this was something akin to after-parties of old! The Outlaw hosts a weekly Bike Night during the summer and they have a burnout pit there full-time, that anyone can just roll into and fire it up if they like. No permission is needed, no advance warning is given. More than once, I have seen an otherwise off-night be awakened in such a manner. The stillness of the night is suddenly shattered by the sound of someone looking to make a contribution to the bottom line of their favorite tire company. But I digress (as usual). My point is that this year would find me in attendance at the end rally point once again, and up close and personal to The Pit.
The group pulling out of my driveway was smaller than that of years past; only three bikes. No worries; the weather is looking good for the day (mid 60’s, mostly sunny and clear), we should have a good spectator turnout along the route, and most importantly; we’re riding!
We gassed up at a nearby gas station and rolled out hard onto Rte 1, headed for Dedham and our rally point with the rest of the crew. We made the necessary right turn, bobbed and weaved our way past a couple of stop signs and rolled up upon Ronnie’s abode - and were greeted by the welcome sight of bikes lined up and waiting. We lined our rides up with the rest of the bikes, shut the engines down and said our hello’s.
We milled around for a bit, catching up on times and downing a few road sodas. When it was time to depart, we donned the masks/costumes, fired the bikes to life and hit the roads - the excitement and anticipation was building! I was running the Sweep position and we hadn’t gone more than a few miles before a car was riding up on our asses, the driver hanging out of his window, hollering to us. I cut over to the side and signaled the guy to come up beside me so that I could find out what his deal was. Turns out he was just a fan of the whole spectacle and only wanted to know if the annual run was going on today. He was more than excited to find out that things were, in fact, planned for today and with that, he happily pulled back to allow me room to catch back up with the rest of the crew.
We arrived at the starting point, were waved into the lot, paid our dues ($20 each!) and then coasted over to the far edge of the parking lot. We picked up where we’d left off with the refreshments and awaited word that things were kicking off. We did roll up closer to the front after a bit, but it was still a lot of wait and wait again. I surveyed the scene to see what had shown up for costumes - lots of cool masks, and a not a few instances of solid effort.
Zig’s contribution to the day’s festivites;
The announcement was made and the bikes started roaring to life. Those that had been caught unawares (or who had not been paying attention), scrambled to get to their bikes before the sea of motion passed them by.
The run was good; nice turnout along the route, plenty of kids - some even in costume themselves - lots of happy people enjoying the fun. Roughly 50 miles later, we arrived at the Outlaw and sidled up the entrance, fighting for position with every other rider there. The folks doing parking detail wanted us to follow the crowd and park in the middle of the lot but there wasn’t a chance of that happening. Spotting an opportunity, we split the gap between two bikes and broke for the far edge of the parking lot. We wanted the option of an open lane to the exit, should we need it. And as luck would have it, we would up very close to the burnout pit - I love when a plan comes together!
We hit the beer line, hit the food line, hit the beer line again, bought rounds for the crew, had rounds bought for us, shared laughs, caught up with folks not seen for a while, etc. Just general all-around good fun had by all. Lisa and I did the obligatory walk-around to see what cool rides we might find, and there were some decent offerings;
The only reason I took the following pic was that if there was a contest for the ugliest bike ever, this frikkin’ joke would be right up there. Just how ugly was this thing? Words fail me, and that’s a rare event in itself. I didn’t even bother sticking around to try and get a second, better shot.
The biggest disappointment of the day was that the burnout pit, for some reason, appeared to be dismantled. No hole shots were being done, no one was lining up…by all appearances, it seemed that the pit was off limits. What had happened? We'd been promised a burnout contest!?!?
Figuring that more political BS had won out over good clean harmless (?) fun, the choice was made to make a break for sanity. The homestead was only minutes away (and the beers didn’t cost $4 there), so we said our farewells and made for the exit.
It was a most-excellent day; a treat for the kids (and adults) who watched us pass, fun for us to put a show on for them, and good weather from start to finish. Sun, fun and friends - Can’t wait to do it again next year. 
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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