(Note: This column was submitted a couple of weeks ago and is only appearing now. - Ed.)

Every year, I try to get out for the first long rides of the season early and often. I like the crisp morning air and the feel of being one of a very small number of riders out there, at least for awhile. And, every Spring, there is that one, first, really long ride I take.

It’s the one that generally takes me somewhere out of the home area and into country I may not have visited since last Fall. Living in a region where the mountain passes keep bikers at bay for some months in winter, I frequently head over the hill and see what’s new in the central valleys and flatlands.

continue reading "Fried Face and Cherry Butter"

I had the “Conversation” the other day.

You know the one. It’s when you’re talking with someone who says, “So, what is it about riding one of those things that is so interesting, anyway?” That line is usually followed by some variation of, “They are so unprotected.” Or “You’re out there in all the elements and rain.” Or “All the other vehicles on the road are bigger than you are.” Or even “It’s way too dangerous.”

It’s the time when the “cliché” is used to reply. You know that one, too.

The “cliché” is, “If you have to ask, you wouldn’t understand.” As I pondered tossing that one out and giving my best, smug look, I bit my tongue and did something different. I asked how any of those things were a negative, exactly. It gladdened my heart to have the other person sort of grind to a halt, as if there could be no other way to think about those things.

Then I began to educate. It turned out to be quite the little experiment.

continue reading "The Conversation"

As the sun poked its head up and smiled on the Pacific Northwest, I found myself working on my second cup of coffee and wondering just why I wasn’t drinking that cup in a nice, cozy dinner about 75 miles away. My riding buddies would be there and it would have been the start of a nice day on the road.

Instead, I was sitting on the roll-around stool in my garage, thinking unkind thoughts about the parentage of whoever designed the fuel gauge system on my bike. The gauge had chosen the night before to begin a persistent leak onto the floor of the garage, and it meant I needed to unload the whole thing and pull out the wrenches.

Why is it, I wondered as I wiped off the gas dripping, dripping, dripping from the sender wires under the tank, that these mechanical problems wait to reveal themselves until just before a nice ride? They never show up when you have a rotten, rainy weekend ahead of you. Or when the in-laws come to visit. At least, that way you could excuse yourself to go and work on them in peace.

continue reading "The Garage Ritual"

Necessity is the mother of invention. But, desperation is its father. In my many years of working, wrenching, and tweaking of various mechanical things, I have done my share of going out to the local Sears and buying that special tool for the job.

However, in the depths of the late hours before a run or special weekend ride, I have also come up with the ever-popular �WTF tool�. You know the kind I mean.

They are the tools you make or �adjust; to fit the need after sitting and staring and scratching and spitting for half an hour at the problem.

continue reading "Trick Tools and Desperation"

Sitting here on the cusp of Spring, when the wind chill is brutal but the sun is shining, I am remembering another Spring a lot of years ago. It was the year I bought my first motorcycle, and it stands out as a landmark year in my life.

It wasn’t new. It wasn’t really pretty. It nearly bankrupted me to buy it…but it was the one I KNEW would take me down the road to motorized freedom.

continue reading "Time passes�Riding is the Same"