Hello Again My Friends!

So, I'm back and this time with a decent computer and fancy broadband internet connection. Sorry to all of you that's been a wonderin what's going on. Everything is fine except one small (well, ok, big) difference. I don't have a motorcycle anymore. Not yet anyway. Financial difficulties brought me to the point where I couldn't justify keeping my bike anymore. She had to go. But as it turns out, it's been a blessing in disguise. You see, I've made some big time changes in my life and for the better. I've re-ordered my priorities. More on that another day.

For now, I'm in the process of cleaning out those millions of spam comments. That will take some time and until I get them all deleted please don't click on any of those anonymous comments. I've temporarily blocked new comments and hope to restore that capability soon. Patience my friends.

I've eliminated all those other blogs I was doing before the great computer meltdown of Oct. 08. Maybe I'll let this one go too or I may evolve it into something new, exciting, but definitely different than it was before. I still love bikes and aim to get another one some day, maybe all electric this time!

So, if I decide to continue this blog it will be different but I will for sure keep some motorcycle and scooter related talk going.

Motorcyclist & Blogger Evan Tanner goes "Into the Wild", doesn't survive.

"I plan on going so deep into the desert, that any failure of my equipment, could cost me my life." Strangely prophetic words from one of Evan Tanner's last blog posts before he embarked on his fatal motorcycle journey.

Evan Tanner, a man well known in the sport of "Mixed Martial Arts" (MMA) was found dead about 2 miles from his campsite out in the remote desert area of Imperial County California, near the Arizona border.

On September 8 he used his cell phone to text a friend. He apparently had run out of gas while riding his Kawasaki KLR650 and was attempting to hike through the 115 degree desert heat back to his camp. Preliminary reports cite the cause of death was heat related.

Evan's very last post, just 5 days before he died was titled "Into the Desert", suggestive of his probable awareness of the book and subsequent movie titled "Into the Wild" about Chris McCandless. Chris was another young man with a penchant for adventure, going out alone to places well beyond the bounds of human civilization. He too didn't survive.

Was Evan Tanner's death preventable? Certainly. He could have stayed at home and sat on the couch. Tragic story yes, but at least he died doing what he loved most, treasure hunting. And now he rides on the ultimate adventure, out beyond the boundaries of life.

"Treasure doesn't necessarily refer to something material."- Evan Tanner

So, what do you think?

I first heard about this story over at Motorcycles Can Save the World

Evan Tanner's prophetic posts: "Treasure Hunting in the Desert" dated August 16, 2008 and his last post "Into the Desert".

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Motorcycling Through the Seasons of Change

Zipping the liner back into my riding jacket, inserting the wool liners into my 28 year old Army issue leather gloves, keeping the choke knob out a little longer while my motorcycle warms up, -all tell-tale signs that summer has come to a close and autumn has arrived, as measured by the likes of me, a motorcyclist. Here's my "Ode to Riding the Seasons":

Winter is the dark and damp ride before spring. And it's a cold ride that steels the body and fills the soul with resolve. Riding the open air exposed to the chilling elements brings a new appreciation for the warmth and protection of shelter and the warmer seasons of the year.

Riding through spring is an affirmation of the eternal cycle of life renewed. The sights and senses awaken to newly sprouted growth and the anticipation of possibilities ahead.

The warm glow of a summer evening is a welcome respite from the heat of the day. The unimpeded view of a sunset is enhanced, and the caress of the warm wind turns motorcycling into a sensual delight.

Fall is a paradox, its harvest time and death all at once. The frequency of my rides increases. And the sight of leaves blowing in the autumn wind quickens my desire to ride while I still can before winter sets-in. Anxious feelings soon are replaced by the peace forged from acceptance of the season and the inevitable winter ahead.

Winters come and they go. Enduring them is not difficult, knowing that everything has its time. The dark days must come before the light. Contrast is the mother of appreciation, and a life without it is nothing more than a dull and wasted blur.

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One Year Review -Tour Master Transition Motorcycle Jacket

I've evolved in some ways over the years and have slowly but surely replaced my riding gear from no helmet, to 3/4 helmet, to full face helmet. From shorts to jeans, from tennis shoes to boots, from tank top to leather jacket to the textile "Tourmaster Transition" motorcycle jacket I'm going to discuss today.

Have I become paranoid or just plain ol'wiser? I would vote for the latter rather than the former.

It's been a little more than a year ago since I bought my motorcycle jacket. So it has endured nearly daily riding through all four Pacific Northwest seasons from stifling 100 degree heat, to below freezing and all points in-between. Rain, snow and hail put my new jacket to the test.

I'm happy to report that one test wasn't carried out however and that would be the crash test.

In warm weather, I removed the zip-out liner and opened all the vents. The air circulation was better than my leather jacket but I still found it pretty toasty at temperatures above 80. But then wouldn't any jacket be the same?

With cold weather, I added the liner and it kept my torso warm enough down to about 40 degrees. Adding another layer of clothing like a sweatshirt kept me comfortable enough down to about 29 degrees on short rides. If I had cold weather long distance riding in mind however, I might look for a warmer jacket or add more layers of clothing.

Rain was not a problem for the jacket. It retained water-tightness and everything in my pockets stayed dry.

The zippers still work flawlessly.

So, I've found the Transition jacket to be high quality for the $150.00 price tag and expect it to last many more years to come.

Do you have a particularly good riding jacket? Or one that is so bad that you wouldn't even recommend it to Bin Laden?

Previous Post: "My New Motorcycle Jacket"

TOURMASTER/CORTECH TRANSITION 2 MOTORCYCLE JACKET BLACK/BROWN

Tourmaster Transition Series 2 Silver Motorcycle Jacket

TOURMASTER/CORTECH TRANSITION 2 MOTORCYCLE JACKET WOMEN HIGH VISIBILITY YELLOW

Motorcycle Apparel & Gear at BikeBandit.com!


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Why I Ride Motorcycles plus an Update on Losing "Liberty"

For those who didn't read my recent post concerning selling my motorcycle, the short of it is: I’m planning on selling my bike which I’ve named “Liberty” because I can’t afford the payments right now. I’ve held on to it as long as I could.

Today I’m going to address some of the reactions I’ve heard:

“Are you going to give up riding, or are you going to get another bike?”

No, I’m not giving up riding and yes I will get another bike and just as soon as I possibly can.

“You ride your bike to work, isn't it cheaper (on gas) to just keep it instead of driving a car?”

Yes, but I will be getting another motorcycle or scooter to use for commuting. In the mean time I’ll be riding my bicycle on most days. That’s not a bad thing either. There will be no cost for fuel and I’ll get some much needed exercise too. I’ll also be saving the planet of some carbon emissions and helping reduce our dependence on foreign oil. (Hmm, I wonder if Al Gore gets around on a bicycle)

“What kind of bike do you want to get?” My leanings are toward the pure and the practical. A “KLR650” would be nice, or a scooter would be fine too. I think even if I had an unlimited amount of money to spend, I still wouldn't be getting a “Boss Hoss” or a “Goldwing” or even $25,000 worth of “Harley” chrome.

“Are you going to quit your motorcycle blog?” (Motorcycle & Scooter Talk)

Heck no, I enjoy it too much. It doesn't cost me anything except for time. Writing is something I love to do and so it’s time well spent. I’m not going to let the temporary condition of not owning a motorcycle stop me from writing about motorcycling. My philosophy is this: If a brick wall stands in my path, then I’ll go over or around it.

When my spiritually minded wife read the post lamenting my upcoming loss she had perhaps the most thought provoking reaction of them all. She laughed hysterically like it was the funniest thing she ever heard. I told her that I thought it odd that she found it funny, the one saddest post in a year’s worth of motorcycle blogging. Not to mention that this is the second bike I’ve lost in the past five years due to economic circumstances and she knows how much motorcycles mean to me.

She explained her reaction something like this: "Material things don’t matter, they come and they go." And she said, "be saddened by the loss of persons not things."

That is her way and she is right. Maybe I was overly sensitive to what seemed like her making light of my feelings and my writing. Her reaction served as a reminder that attachment to things is frivolous, even laughable. Maybe I taught her a little something too. Once she realized that I didn't think my post was intended to be funny, she lovingly straightened the hood on my jacket and said that she would pray for a miracle, so that I could keep the bike. I told her that if a miracle is coming it had better be soon, I've got a payment coming up in a couple of weeks! In her wisdom, she reminded me that the very nature of miracles is that they are not restricted by time.

I've come around to thinking about attachment to material things the same way she does, and increasingly so as I get older. Attachment to things is a proportional loss of freedom. With the one exception: motorcycles. For me Liberty is more than just an inanimate chunk of metal and rubber. She is the symbol and the means of my freedom. None of us, not one, are truly free however. We have responsibilities to our God (or Goddess), our families, our friends, our communities, the planet, our jobs, our pets, the list goes on and on. And that’s not a bad thing either. Complete freedom is an abstract goal that is unattainable and even undesirable. A certain measure of freedom however is life affirming and even re-creational.

When I’m on my motorcycle an ecstatic feeling overcomes me. It’s not just the wind, the motion, the adrenaline rush or the unobstructed view. It’s not only the focused consciousness, or the heightened awareness born of a sense of danger. Nor is it only the feeling of being in total control of a force much more powerful than I. It’s not just the feeling of synchronicity between man and machine. It’s all those things along with the sense of freedom I get while in the saddle.

And there is one more thing:

My brother the Mathematician once said to me, “riding motorcycles is tempting fate, the odds are that eventually you’re going to crash.”

Mathematically he is right of course. But I ride safe, minimize risk and play the odds to win. And riding a motorcycle straight towards “The Reaper” in an odd sort of way is riding away from him at the same time. For me riding allows living in the moment, and any given moment is the only moment that really exists. The past is memory and the future uncertain. The moment, this moment, is life eternal.

And so that’s why I ride and that’s why every day I will be expecting a miracle to come along so that I can keep my "Liberty", and if not, then that will be a lesson in detachment. I will take that lesson with my head held high and a smile on my face. Then my attention will turn towards my next bike and her name will be “Liberty 2”...

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"Liberty's" Last Ride? Motorcycling to Silver Falls Park -Oregon

I rode my motorcycle to our campsite in the middle of a rainforest with my 14 year old son on the back, my wife followed in a van with the rest of the kids. The twisties up the canyon were invigorating, the scenery breathtaking. The Sportster rumbled along flawlessly as always. Would this be the last time I took to this saddle as Captain?

Though this was to be a fun family adventure, it was a "bittersweet" one. The thought of it being the last run for my old friend, the motorcycle I've named "Liberty" weighed heavily on my mind. Economic circumstances being as they are, make it impossible to hold on any longer. The payments too large for my low-income job. With a family of 5 to feed the struggle has become no longer sustainable. I recently lost my opportunity to work overtime and when monthly expenses exceed monthly income, well, somethings got to give. The only thing I have left to give is my Liberty, who has given me so much of the very same.

I will continue to commute to work and with luck get in a few more side trips until I sell the bike. After that the commute will still be on 2 wheels, -a bicycle that is. Hopefully I will find a way to get another motorcycle sooner rather than later.

We went to Silver Creek Falls State Park in Oregon. Not more than 30 miles from our driveway in Salem put us right in the middle of a temperate rain forest and the campground we would be staying in.

The weather held up, it was nice and sunny and it didn't rain until after we had everything packed up and were leaving for home.

The park holds 9,000 acres of forest, meadows and a steep basaltic canyon holding 10 waterfalls, all connected by an 8.7 mile National Recreation Trail.

My son and I with my Sportster in the foreground and North Falls in the background.

Looking at the falls had the effect of washing away motorcycle problems from my mind and to see something bigger, something timeless. The cycle of water, which in the grand scheme of things makes one man's small troubles seem insignificant and temporary.

"Roughing It Easy"

The campground we stayed in was completely full. Filled with a lot of fancy RVs of all sorts, tents being in the minority. This particular RV caught my eye. No it wasn't the $300.000? price tag, it was the satellite dish, custom painted with a nature scene.

I've been practicing being non-judgemental lately which is really against my nature and a hard lesson to learn. So with that in mind, I'm not going to hold judgment on my fellow campers, especially if I don't know their story. The couple staying in the rig with the satellite dish had to be quite well to do. For all I know they may have funded an orphanage in Cameroon or helped feed and shelter children digging through the trash heaps of Mexico City looking for leftover food. Maybe they own a company and treat their employees well and give them good medical insurance and a living wage. Maybe they used some of their apparently plentiful supply of money for altruistic purposes -before having their satellite dish custom painted. -Maybe. Not for me to judge.

Still, it strikes me as a funny way of experiencing nature. I wondered as I walked past their self-contained resort on wheels, appointed with every known luxury and convenience known to man, if they were sitting inside making good use of that satellite dish. With 472 channels, hopefully they found a good nature program to watch.

South Falls

South Falls is a big one by any standard. Silver Creek plummets 177 feet down before landing in the pool below. This picture just shows the lower portion of the awe inspiring waterfall. In 1928 a Pacific Northwest legendary hero and daredevil named Al Faussett went over the falls in a homemade contraption of canvas and tire tubes. He survived with only a few broken ribs, a broken wrist and both ankles sprained. Others that have gone over, not so lucky.

A view from behind South Falls

A ponderous trail leads down into the canyon and around the side passing behind the falls. For the feint hearted and vertigo prone the railings are small comfort, being the only thing between oneself and sudden death, serious hurt, or at the very least embarrassment having to be rescued by means of rope and basket.

Mia Familia

This is a shot of my family perching on the side of the cliff behind South Falls. From the left my daughter turning 9 this week, my wife, my 10 year old daughter and 14 year old son. This 2 night camping trip is the highlight of their summer. God bless them for being patient with my inability to give them more.

And so was this to be Liberty's last ride? Perhaps. How long will it be once it's sold before I can get another bike? Questions that don't stray too far from my mind. I wax and wane between optimism and pessimism. Time will tell...

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A Father & Son Motorcycle Ride 13,000 Years in the Making

I said to my 14 year old son Jason, "Your mom and the girls are going to church this morning and you and I are hitting the road on the motorcycle."

"So where we going dad?" "To check out a rock over by McMinnville, it'll be a nice ride out there."

My son looking unimpressed and a little less than eager asked "are we going to get a pop or anything?"

Sunday mornings are usually reserved for going to church. My church preference though is the road, the woods, the beach and today it would be to see a "glacial erratic rock."

We waved goodbye to my wife and my 2 girls as they rolled out of the driveway. I felt a little guilty because they soon would be sitting on a wooden church pew and I would be in the familiar saddle of my bike named "Liberty".

Jason reluctantly climbed aboard the bike and we were off. Later we arrived at "Glacial Erratic State Park" a forgotten little wayside with just a small sign marking the entrance to the parking area just off Highway 18 in Yamhill County.

At the trail head was a graffiti sprayed historical marker describing the rock waiting for us at the top of the hill. I read about the glacial erratic as Jason walked ahead.

I caught up with him and we hiked up the short trail and soon we were standing near a large rock overlooking the surrounding scenery of rolling hills, farmland and vineyards.

Jason looked at the rock for a second and said "we rode all the way out here just to see this?"

He cracked open his can of Dr. Pepper and took a long sip.

"Yep" I said, "and this is no ordinary rock, this here is a glacial erratic. If you would have stopped long enough to read the sign then you would know all about it."

He rolled his eyes, took another sip of pop and put on his best disinterested look as I explained:

"This rock came all the way down here from up in Canada during the Missoula flood about 13 thousand years ago at the end of the last ice age. There was a glacier blocking the flow of a river so there was a huge lake. The ice dam burst and a wall of water hundreds of feet high flowed down the Columbia River carrying huge chunks of ice along with it. Embedded in the ice were big rocks like this one".

"And?" He said. (It may have been my imagination or maybe he really was interested in hearing the rest I don't know)

"And this wall of water carrying huge chunks of ice flowed down through Montana and Idaho and into Washington and Oregon along the Columbia River and about where Portland is now some of the water came down the Willamette Valley."

"So" he said. At this point I didn't care if he was really interested or not. I wanted to finish the story so that maybe he would remember it and appreciate the experience we had together sometime in the future.

"So a big chunk of ice settled at the top of this hill and melted, leaving this here rock. End of story."

Shrugging his shoulders he said "cool" and headed back down the trail at a quick pace. He was probably eager to get back home as soon as possible so he could resume the video game he was playing earlier.

I stood there for some time taking it all in. I looked at the view from up there and touched the rock with my hand, noticing someone had spray painted "You Suck!" on the side of it.

I imagined the almost unimaginable pre-historic scene; the wall of water surging over the hilltops around me carrying chunks of ice bigger than a house.

My mind moved from pre-history to recent history. About the time I was Jason's age my dad brought me to see the rock. I was thinking that back then I probably looked just as bored as my son did.

This time was different though. Getting older seems to have the effect of giving me a broader perspective. I appreciate things more and I certainly appreciate my dad more now than I did then, when he was still alive. It's too easy to take people for granted.

Maybe because my finished journey isn't all that distant anymore and things like the rock, people, the world, are savored and taken in more slowly so as to be fully valued.

I was glad I brought Jason up there despite his disinterest. Because, I thought, maybe he would someday return, if only in memory, and he would look at the rock and understand it.

Maybe he would even bring his own family to show them. Maybe generation after generation would come and keep coming, until the time that the rock becomes dust...

Cars sped by on the highway below. Busy, unconscious, and in a hurry to get wherever they were going.

Long ago the rock arrived at its destination but it's purpose was not finished. It had waited silently for this moment 13,000 years in the making.

I was in church that day alright. I felt the presence of my dad on that hill and smiled knowing he would be happy that I was passing along the experience to my own son. I touched the rock and it touched me and it felt like the hand of God.

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More information on the "Glacial Erratic" along with GPS coordinates.

Motorcycle Blogging - Reflections After One Year

Well it's been a year this month since I started this blog and it's been a heck of ride and a huge learning experience.

The idea to start blogging came to me as a good way to practice writing and the cool thing about it was that someone actually would read the stuff I wrote.

One of the first pieces of advice I got about blogging was that the subject should be something that I really enjoy talking about and could sustain enthusiasm for over a long period of time. If it was readers I wanted then I would need to keep the focus of the blog razor thin.

I made a short list of potential subjects and motorcycling was at the top. One of my favorite things to do is to go on motorcycle rides with my brother in-law and somewhere along the way we would end up in a coffee shop. There we talked about motorcycles, motorcycle adventures we’ve had, adventures yet to come and the philosophy of the road.

So I thought I would continue the conversation through blogging and let everyone interested- in on what I had to say.

But the trick was it had to be interesting enough for people to want to read. Otherwise I might as well just stick to conventional journaling and forget about blogging on the Internet.

I decided to give it a go and see where it takes me. I made a commitment to running Motorcycle & Scooter Talk at Kano's Coffee House for a year and then decide whether or not to continue.

It turns out blogging is way more time consuming than I ever imagined. And I've found it difficult coming up with new things to write about while still keeping within the subject at hand-motorcycles and motorcycling.

Which is why I've decided to expand the focus of Motorcycle & Scooter Talk out just a bit and begin to write a little more about other things, not necessarily directly related to motorcycling but hopefully of interest to motorcyclists.

And feeling restricted by single subject talk, I have a couple of other blogs going such as The Sustainable Earth Project and two more under construction; Further! Boomer News & Views and Hippieland.

But Motorcycle & Scooter Talk has been a lot more positive than negative. I've had a bunch of fun reading and replying to comments folks have left for me, visiting other blogs and leaving comments for them.

I've also found that the experience has been an exercise in self-discovery. Writing has helped me focus on who I really am and made it more clear on who I'm not. I have come to know myself better than ever before.

I've learned both in writing and in my own personal growth, how to adapt without losing integrity, to refine and to re-focus. To keep at it until I know I've done the best I can do.

I’ve come to know that personal blogging for the long haul has got to be a labor of love; it's an act of self-expression, an art with the canvas being a blank computer screen.

The reward has been the satisfaction I get when occasionally I feel that the right words have been put down that shine a light on my soul and reveal my spirit within.

And the big bonus to blogging is the feeling of appreciation I get when someone has read my work and left a comment.

Comments and the number of subscribers Motorcycle & Scooter Talk has are my feedback and inspiration for continuing to write.

And so, all things considered I've decided to give it another year at least and see where the road goes. I hope you all stick with me and come along for the ride!

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A Fathers Day Motorcycle Ride

It's Fathers Day and even though my Dad passed on many years ago I'm not going to forget him on this day.

I'm going to ride my motorcycle up to the old cemetery for a visit.

It doesn't seem like I need to go anywhere to visit him though, let alone a cemetery. He is still alive in my mind. I can visualize him doing just as I had seen him do a thousand times, standing on the front porch of the house waving goodbye as I went.

My Dad always did that when I left, he stood there on the porch and waved even if it was just the day before when I saw him last and would probably be the next day when I saw him next. He always took the time to stop whatever he was doing to go out on the front porch and wave goodbye, as if it would be the last time he would ever see me.

One day it was the last time. At least physically. He is ever present in my mind and because of that, I don't need the cemetery as a reminder.

I'll ride my motorcycle up there though and take my son along. Maybe that will be a lesson for him and me. That time on this earth is limited and that we should appreciate each other and the time we have together more.

I'll tell my son and daughters about my Dad, because they never knew him. When my kids grow up and leave home, I'll appreciate them coming by for a visit and I'll stand on the porch and wave goodbye when they go. Just like my Dad used to do.

Happy Fathers Day all you Moto Dads out there!

The Unknown Hero of Tiananmen Square

Once in awhile a photograph captures an event or an emotion that immediately gets seared into the minds of those who view it. The man shown in these famous photos is defiantly blocking the way of a column of tanks heading for Tiananmen Square during the Chinese uprising of 1989.

This post is dedicated in honor and remembrance of that heroic man and his courageous act that changed everything on June 4, back in 1989.

History does not record his name or what happened to him. Some say he melted back into his ordinary life following the incident. Others say he was arrested and executed.

Some details are clear though and it’s in those details that make the story even more interesting.

This man was not a student leader of the uprising. This was not a planned or choreographed protest. The shopping bags in his hands and the style of his clothing indicate that he was just an ordinary man on his way from the market heading for work or home.

When he saw the tanks entering his city and on their way to repress and possibly harm his fellow citizens he was outraged enough to risk his own life by stepping in front of a tank.

A seemingly ordinary man doing an extraordinary thing.

It was a simple yet heroic act, yet it had the power to change the world forever. That image was broadcast worldwide repeatedly and he became an inspiration for many.

This was a late 20Th century David vs. Goliath story.

Now these days the battle lies between us ordinary people against the giant oil companies. They have us by the throat and we are struggling to free ourselves or die.

Society's addiction to oil has reached it's terminal stage. Just like heroin addicts know, the high doesn't last forever. The gas high is gone and the gas drug is starving our children, destroying our economy, funding terrorism, and killing our planet. Oil has become a disease.

In our lifetimes we may not get the opportunity to do such an extraordinary thing as the "Tank Man" did in China. But even so we still can stand up to Goliath. We can symbolically stand in front of our own gas guzzling vehicles and say "no more, not in my town!"

We can choose to ride our motorcycles, scooters or bicycles, we can use public transportation, car pool, or walk instead of driving a car. Every gallon saved brings us one gallon closer to slaying the gas giant.

Enough people making more responsible choices can make a collective difference. We can set the example, be the inspiration for others, and together we can change the world. Society needs to get serious about alternatives to oil for fuel.

As the unknown hero of Tiananmen square taught us, it takes just one person to have the courage to stand up, soon others will join us.

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I'm Baaaaaaaaack!

The last time I posted was back in December of 2007. I hit the publish button, turned-off the computer and haven't turned it on since, until today.

I don't have a really good explanation for my extended absence from the blogosphere but do offer my apologies to all my readers and those concerned about my well-being.

Tons of email awaits my attention. I will wade through them all and promise to answer each one as time allows.

I'm doing fine, still riding and I hope this post finds each one of you well and still riding.

I have only taken one pleasure ride lately, the rest of my rides have been the 5 mile commute each way to work. The price of gas and my commitment to environmental responsibility have limited my riding to almost exclusive utilitarian purposes. After all I've got to practice what I preach.

I've added another bike to my commuting arsenal, a bicycle that is. I acquired a Diamondback Transporter that I will be riding to work at least once a week. This news won't hurt the gas barons any but I will get some much needed exercise, spare the planet some carbon emissions and as an added bonus save some bucks too!

Spring is arriving late here in the valleys of western Oregon. This whole weekend has been snowing and hailing. There have been only a couple of fairly warm sunny days so far this Spring and that was last weekend. Snow accumulation can still be seen in the foothills of the Cascades east of me and Mt. Hood off in the northeastern distance.

Went on a ride with the Wyld Hogs last weekend in some of those hills I mentioned, it was fantastic to get out into the wind again, that is, in daylight and more than just a teasing 5 miles. Mike was there with his sporty and adventurous looking Buell Odyssey, Dale on his trusty Vulcan, Dave on his shiny new Suzuki C50, Bruce on his nicely rigged out Yamaha and I on the Sportster.

We must have been a sight us old farts. 5 different personalities reflected by 5 different bikes, the love of motorcycles and motorcycling being the connective link between us. It was a great ride.

For the small town onlookers in Macleay, Stayton, Lyons or Silverton, we wouldn't have been the only oddball group riding through. In fact the roads were virtually teaming with bikes everywhere. Mostly geezers like us.

I don't think of myself as a geezer but younger folks do. When I'm riding I'm young again. And free.

Somewhere I read recently that most motorcycle riders these days are in their 40s and 50s.

I remember when I was younger seeing the roads full of Winnebago's and campers mostly piloted by older folks. I don't see much of that anymore but I do see lots and lots of bikes. Maybe gas prices have drove my generation away from guzzlers and towards bikes. Or maybe we are a little more eco-friendly, or maybe because we grew up in the 60s and 70s influenced by watching "Easy Rider" and the TV show "Then Came Bronson", but we let life get in the way, that is, until now.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

This is my 101st post since I started blogging back in June and I can say I've learned a lot and have had plenty of fun too. Many thanks to the readers of Motorcycle and Scooter Talk at Kano's Coffee House and a special "Moto Bro Wave" to subscribers and the kindly fellow bloggers who've linked me. Knowing that people are reading this stuff is what keeps me blogging. Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!- Kano

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