A small ride in poor weather, dinner and a crazy goldwing towing a snowmobile

Today was a day of house cleaning, as was yesterday.
There is a saying, there are two types of bachelors, those who are gay, and those who are not, I am very much not, making my place barely habitable.
So after a weekend of cleaning I as ready to break out of the house.
I tried to Coerce Chad for an evening ride, but he had been napping, hard life that he lives and having slept to long, was unable to go.
I would have to brave the 40 mile ride on my own.

The one thing about motorcycle riding is it is never quick. Gear for those of us who live by the AGATT code, can be a PITA.
So there I was, in a hurry to get to Herbergers before it closed, trying to get my liner in my jacket as I knew it would be cold and the items to return to Kmapart.

I would venture of with some crazy wind gusts. Now wind does not normally bother me, I can smoke a cig and drink a cup of coffee wile riding in gale force winds normally. But tonight was a different kind of wind, the kind where you are just getting bitch slapped from side to side, only your helmet. So after about 10 minutes of that nonsense I was wondering exactly what I had done to piss off the wind sylphs, and why on earth I didn't just drive a cage.
It would relent as I passed over Fairmont hill and the rest of my ride would be very comfortable all be It a bit drafty, kind of like the 100 year old house I live in.

Herbergers was the usual, no help anywhere to be found, and with only minutes until they closed, why would anyone be anyplace but talking to their coworker about what a rough day they had standing around not waiting on people.

I would not get the assistance I Needed until the store was officially closed "come back another time and we will check on that for ya" yea sure thing, I will go next door then, which I did.

Outside I was complemented by a couple who had just existed their car on how nice it was that I was wearing very bright glow in the dark gear. Being visible is everything when riding a bike, I am happy it did its job.

I would do nothing more worth noting except inquiring about the better Mexican restaurant in a five mile area. I would learn that the two closest were owned by brothers, so hoping they were twins and both their food was equally decent I headed over to the closest restaurant/casino.
Outside would be what made anyone wonder, why, why do you not just drive a cage?
There sitting on the edge of a parking lot was a 1200 pound Honda Goldwing towing a 700lb Snowmobile. I would say I saw it all but I am sure that is no where near the truth.

Dinner was good with fairly authentic Mexican food. I really do not eat as much as a normal American so I chose the Half you are a cheap assed meal, which turned out to be the perfect size.

I had brought along a friends book. IT has only been a year since she has mailed to me and I felt I aught to start reading it.
SO far, it is very good, the first two pages have me Riveted Kerry :D

The ride home would be the same as back, about five miles outside of home I would get a massive bitch slapping from mother nature.
I was happy my new Tourmaster jacket seemed very windproof and that my new tires gripped well in the assault by the sylphs.

Now for a beer to complete my evening, cheers!

Ride to Crystal park, and a little hand diggin

09:00 hrs I stepped out to start my bike and head out to Crystal Park Montana.

09:01 I stepped back inside to look for my eye drops

09:10 still looking for eye drops, gave up, leaving now on bike. Ray is here and tired of waiting.

09:12 go around the block and grab ear plugs out of the house

09:13 back on the road

And it would go well, thankfully I stopped and put in the quilted liner into my riding jacket, thinking it would be cool going over the divide into the Big Hole valley, I would be right, it was a bit frosty.

We traveled along, enjoying the amazing scenery of South Western Montana, heading to Crystal Park for the morning. This was a place I had always wanted to visit, and even though I had spent a summer doing mine reclamation only 10 miles away, I had never gotten the chance to visit the park.

A Cow Moose would jump in front of me, I would brake so as not to excite her and get a taste of her big hooves. Ray pulled up wondering what I was doing, he apparently did not see the moose. I held up my fingers and he correctly Identified four, we moved on.

We stopped a couple times for me to take my usual menagerie of pictures, the photo of Ray says it all.


I would stop about 45 minutes from the park, my vented riding gloves were not helping keep my hands warm, I really wanted to be able to grip the controls so a pair without venting was in order.
I set my helmet on my seat and going to the tail bag I would dig out my other gloves, and at that moment my helmet tried for its escape, it would roll down the bank, looking for freedom. That freedom was not to be, not being a round object it would wobble and turn straight into a tree. Thus saving me from having to repel down the cliff to retrieve the safety device.

We moved on again taking in the scenery, not much moved on the roads except a couple towing their child behind their bikes.
As they heard me coming up they crowded the side of the road, meanwhile I was digging in my jacket pocket for my camera. They would give me a frightened glance as I coasted up, no hands, trying to get a picture, bike wobbling from lack of speed.
Its ok, they lived, and we moved on.

Enjoying the copious amounts of curves I would drive past Ray in a drive way, looking at me as I tooled by, I assumed he was merely waiting for me to catch up as I had stopped a mile back on the road to take a picture of the curves.
10 miles later after I would stop half way down the other side of the pass, whipping snott from my face of joy Ray would tool up and inform me we missed the turn.
"Oh just back on top of the pass"? I would ask
"No ten miles back, where I was sitting looking at you" nothing new there, he spent quit a bit of time looking thru his helmet wondering what the hell I was up to.
"I just wanted to do these curves a second time, you got a problem with that?"
His eyes lit up and we tore out after enjoying another amazing view

I found the turn no problem, it was right next to the big stack of wood next to the road, just as Ray had described it, in my defense the sign was partially covered by a tree branch.
People of quick thinking will note that I was coming from the opposite direction initially, yea well there was a branch over that sign too.

The park was not at all what I expected, there were holes everywhere, and I wondered if this was what a hillside looked like after a carpet bombing.
People would be digging in chest deep holes, you would think they were looking for gold with this much effort.

I did not bring a shovel, or any tools, I really did not know anything about this place, and I honestly thought it was a private park. It was not, so I would end up finding a child's toy bucket of some sort to do a little scooping.
I thought I was all cool with my little pile of Crystals, I soon found out why they were sitting on top of the ground, they were to small. but alas I would find a couple nice ones to bring home, along with the rest.
My attempt at becoming a radio receiver was at least partially successful.

I have to admit that I did get some of the crystal fever, we spent about an hour kicking dirt up looking for crystals that may be laying on the surface. I did a bit of tunneling myself, but my little plastic bucket did not work for crap so that was that.


By the time we reached wise river my stomach was growling so loud I could hear it over the thumper motor.
The cheeseburger was not just good, but damn good, crystal digging had worked up an appetite so to be fair, cardboard at this point would have tasted good.

We would then merely head back home, taking I 15 back to avoid the potholes on the Big Hole highway.
People think that Montana is all trees and mountains, that is not true, I took this picture to prove otherwise.
My glove however was not cooperating and infuriated it had not been in any pictures so far, it made a point to be in this one. Ok well several others as well, it is a bit of a Ham.

From this point on it was about 45 minutes from home, I was tired, I admit it, a full belly and the drone of my single cylander bike would lull me to a passive state I do not like to be in.
Although I have to say I enjoyed the dream of the busload of cheerleaders broken down alongside the highway.
Meh, or not, but Im home, another wonderful day, so happy to have had this experience again.

The people we meet shape our lives

I have met some truly inspiring individuals over the years.
I would be here all day if I was to talk about them all, but there are three who have influenced me recently
One is the Author Kirsten Koza, she is an adventure author who rides her beat up old mountain bike in countries most people think of as simply being hell.
She has a wonderful nack for excitement, and a natural wanderlust.
She discovered me on an online forum, and encouraged me to enter her journalist contest.
I did so, twice even, I would do well in her competitions but even with her encouragement I was unable to finish the books I have been writing.
While I sit at another miserable job, she is off on another amazing adventure in South America. Maybe its time I finished those books.

A few months ago doing laundry I began chatting with a fellow cyclist who came up with a bike loaded way to heavy.
His Name was Jacob, he saved up some money, quit his job, saddled up his bike and decided to ride to the east coast.
What an amazing adventure! changing his life while he was still able, and in a big way.
We would talk for quit some time about his journey, and where it would lead, both helping to chase each others demons out of our heads.
Meeting him simply helped to re affirm that I am still able to make my dream ride of South America via Motorcycle come true.
While I sit, plan, and try to come up with the money, he has already completed the first phase of his trip, and sits to contemplate going back to the mundane world, or riding further south on his bike.
I sit here blogging.

In Park City while scrounging the crappy continental breakfast at the timeshare I was staying at. I would be entertained by a 91 year old harmonica player, I wondered how much of a hint that was, I have made a feeble attempt at learning to play the harmonica as it is the perfect instrument to carry on my journey. So far, I have been unsuccessful.
The man working the front desk would interest me though, and I would not unfortunately catch his name.
He came Africa, he has lived here much of his life but his accent was still thick.
We would talk about his homeland, and the easier way of life, and the healthier way of life.
We talked about helping people, and apparently where he grew up, if a woman who was nursing was no longer giving milk, they would pass the baby onto another woman to nurse. I found this amazing, nothing like the Africa I have been told.
I talked about how I am trying to help a school out in the Philippines, how I wanted use my construction experience in each country to teach basic sanitation we take for granted in the US.
"You were ment to do great things" he would tell me

I dono about that, I am still just sitting on my ass trying to make a dream come true, but his words, simply meeting him, would inspire me to push harder to make a difference.

If you take a step back, you will never stop going backwards.

dollars a day they claimed. Cept a single beer in Northern Europe cost 4 dollars, a hostel room 35 dollars on and on.
nearly three months later I had blown about eight grand, I had a 1200 stash at home to look for work get another apartment ect (this was 95).
However I was tired, exhausted from riding trains, the guy I was traveling with was cantankerous and we were tired of looking at eachother. We stood at the tunnel entrance from France to England and neither of us could justify the 75 dollar ticket to the island.
We then decided for Ireland, but we missed two ferries, tired of all the trials and tribulations we came home.
I will most likely never go back to Europe, yet one of my greatest regrets was not finishing that little bump as we had planned.
I heard something way to late in life, and I wish I had heard it when I was young.
A man motorcycling south America was kidnapped by rebels.
He spent weeks starving and abused, when finally free the FBI was willing to fly him home. He refused, saying "If I go home they win"
I was shocked, how could he say that? they already won? so what? go home, get well you can always go back.
He didn't go home, instead he took off riding South America and that later turned into riding the world.
Recently those words rang true to me.
Unable to get the time off I needed to ride my Motorcycle to visit my Sister and her friends vacationing in Park City Utah, I almnost called it quits.
But waking up Saturday morning I said screw it, I tossed my already packed motorcycle saddlebags in my truck and off I went.
The trip would be somewhat normal, until I would find myself spending 75 dollars ( I see a pattern here) to go on the Olympic bobsled ride at the Olympic Park.
Trouble is that ride is only for one minute, ok but "Once in a lifetime ride" everyone kept saying, loving adventure and chance, I as in.
Until I thought about it, I looked upon the entire track and wondered what in the hell I was doing. How could this possibly be any different than riding a roller coaster?
I would mention this to the guy working the sled "Its like nothing you have ever done"
Im like man, that is a tough one to fill, I have done some pretty crazy shit"
"have you ever experienced 4 gs?" not sure on that one, probably when I was being tossed around in a rolling car, in a safe environment? No

My sister pushed me forward, and hearing the words "Never step back" In my head I sucked it up.
But then I couldn't fit right in the damn bobsled, my broad shoulders jammed me in like a sardine in a can.
" I just don't fit, this sucks" I would say
"You will be fineeeee" they said as they pushed the bobsled off.
It tore down at unbelievable acceleration, I found myself initially staring at the drivers back, being in the second seat my view was not to great.
The uncomfortable feeling and the rough track started to make it suck, but I began looking down the track, as if I was driving/riding to ease my mind, and the enjoyment began.
The world would blurr around, with only the track coming in clear, it shook hard. I could not believe the violent nature of the shaking within the bobsled, it felt like my brain was actually moving around, proof that I indeed do have one.
And then it would end, and wow, the minute seemed like five minutes, what a unbelievable experience.
Nothing like I had ever done, nothing, it was like no roller coaster ride, and certainly not like any race track I had ever been on.

The ride had lasted 69 seconds, so that boiled down to a dollar forty four each second and worth every damn penny.

It came back to that statement, had I never stepped forward on this, or any other adventure, I would have missed out on incredible experiences.
I am sure at some point I missed out on some fabulous things, like everyone I look back and wonder what if?
It does not matter though, what is done and cannot be changed, it is important to only move forward and see what lays beyond the next corner.

Changing directions again

6 years ago I bought my dream bike, I still remember seeing it the first time thinking if the guys selling it had told me it was orange I would have told him to go to hell, but the right music was playing and Three Days Grace "Animal I have become" played and Dads only words "that is one nice damn bike" I was in love.
Over those six years that bike took me to a new level, it would introduce me to the most comfortable ride I could ever experience, its rubber would grab the pavement as I carved canyon corners the rubber melting off the sides, it would stay rubber side down as I explored the roads in rain, ice, now and left over spring gravel on the best corners left on any canyon anywhere.
It would introduce me to the track and like the wild animal it was, leave me behind as I spun like a top wondering where my steed went, reminded of my younger days riding a horse, my my how steel and flesh could be the same.
But now, that ride gone, inspired as a child by Homers Odyssey travel is in my blood, and my desire to see the rest of the world inspires me more than anything else, so off it goes to a new stable and as I wipe a single tear the wind blows into my face, bringing with it the scents of the world, the laughter, the crying the horror and my nostrils breath deep the faint scent of fine spices in India, sand brushes my cheek and I just know it was carried over the vast ocean from the Sahara, but my next goal calls where the Spanish sought to tame, many fell but ultimately they would conquer, and so shall I.
I look forward to the next start of my life, For the past few years I saw the hooded man with a scythe ominous finger pointing. I only recently discovered the true meaning, it is change, as with the skull in south America a new birth, and so my life moves to the next phase, without common comforts my body shall endure and I shall finally touch those grounds that have called me for all of my life, just as other wanders, perhaps me in another life, have trod upon.
I hope the gods guide me, I hope Wodins single eye watches me and gives me strength, I hope Libras scale allows me to give the justice many deserve, Gia helps me teach others how to use the earth properly & reap her gifts for generations to come, , their talismans and Runes shall unlock my mind &I hope those I leave will get to share the journey of a lifetime.
I read once a phrase that so many of you have seen me use. I always post when someone dies, and hell, even when great changes beings I use this. I read in a another book that helped shape who I am today, Louis Lamoure's "The walking drum". That line gives me hope and lets me know that there is always one more road to travel, real or not it is who I am.
Yol Bolson
May there be a road

Suriving Walmart

I stopped at Walmart today to exchange some sweat pants, standing in line I soon realized the trouble I was in, before me were to Mongloids, drooling, fussing over their baby, they glanced over their shoulder at me and I quickly looked away, but my eyes drifted to a Troll walking by, club dragging behind him as he shuffled his feet.
A Zombie walked up and I knew he could smell I was living, I reached behind my back but my Zombie tool was not there, I was alone, left with a pair of oversized sweat pants, car keys, and quick thinking. Another zombie came up, they drooled, the mongloids grunted and drooled, they all seemed to communicate as their gaze drifted to me.
My mouth went dry, I knew I was cornered, there was no escape, my mind raced with responses, and first was the usual Montana response "Looks like it might rain" DOH! that will not work, quick, think, think, wait, don't think, that is the key, so I spoke quickly and surely in their language "Uhhh, uhhh, UHHHH" spittle ran down my chin. It seemed to work, they grunted back and their empty gaze shifted away from me.
The Mongloid baby was glaring at me, its innocents may not have been fooled by my speech, maybe my dialect was wrong ? I could not be sure, but it looked with coal black eyes, its teeth sharp and I was reminded of chucky, my mind raced and I so wanted to scream "Throw it a rat, feed the beast" but I kept calm and tried to keep focused on the cashier.
Only one, that just did not make sense, with the sound of feet and clubs dragging around me I knew it must be a trap. Only having one cashier in a a situation like this was like Vampires having a blood drive, my time was short here, I had to keep the act up to survive.
A blonde came up behind me, her deep blue eyes suggested she was living, I wanted to speak to her but I noticed the Zombies merely shuffled by her, she was safe, safe by her natural hair color and empty headed nature, there was no brain to eat here and the knew it.
"Next" came the humanoid voice, and I shuffled up dragging my foot, not wanting to give myself away.
She spoke "What U want"
"Pants no Fit" I responded "need refund" I replied.
She looked, still seemed somewhat normal but I was not fooled, I would not be brought in, it was a test, I know it.
She handed me the money, and I instantly turned and dodged thru the Mindless Hoard, their eyes more fixated on the shelves than me.
I rushed out the door and Tires squeeled as a bumper stopped just short of my leg, inside the car a woman sat, her eyes wide with terror, I waved, thankful she was human and she yelled "GEt out of the fucking way there is a sale"
I hurried away, knowing better than to confront that one, zombies were deadly but a woman being stopped from going to a sale was like trying ot keep a hippo from getting to water.

Food Food All around and not a bite to eat

I try fairly hard to eat pretty decent, and like everyone I fall off the wagon from time to time.
Today I set out off the wagon and ended up trying to climb back on, in half an hour of wandering around the IGA in whitehall all I saw was food which honestly is barely fit for human consumption, and in the long run really is not.
I had the cheese isle where nearly everything they have was processed and therefore not healthy, I settled on a small 8oz block of cheese which was on sale.
The Meat isle had no Organic presliced meat, so rather than buy hormon, raised turkey and chicken injected with antibiotics I decided to opt out of meat in that respect, and finally settled on some Chicken Pattys all natural from Tyson, probably not all that natural other than being raised but nothing else so it is what I settled upon.
For bread all I could think about was even the best most healthy bread before me, was so infused with preservatives it would not mold for at least a couple of weeks, do I really want that inside me? no
I settled for whole grain crisp crackers, again, not that great but less bread and they are filling so the desire to continually much is not there.
I browsed the fruit isle but with no Organic fruit all I could see was pesticide laced fruits grown from oil based fertilizer with only half the nutritinal value of fruit raised in the 50s and 60s.
I was of course reminded of the story "water water all around and not a drop to drink" and my mind drifted to other countries where a healthy lifestyle is promoted, not shunned.
Why are we not promoting healthy living more? why are people who eat well often looked upon as strange?
Shouldnt those eating unfit fuel for their bodies be looked upon as strange? After all, you would not fill your car up with bad gas, so why your body?