Biker Meditation

I was in sort of a mood this morning, for a variety of reasons I won’t go into here, except to say that one of them was probably that I haven’t had a good ride in a while. So, when your thoughts are all tangled and your mood is dark, the best thing to do to unfuck yourself is meditation. Specifically biker meditation, also known as wind therapy. Besides, I just oiled all the leathers yesterday – they needed to be aired out.

I was pretty proud to still be able to zip my chaps down my legs. There were a couple winters recently I couldn’t, due to “middle age spread”. I’ve had this same pair since 1989, so I really want to see how long I can make them last. So far, they’ve outlasted four leather jackets, four ol’ ladies, and about ten bikes. Who knows how many miles they’ve seen?

I digress. I put Lucy on a charger while I ate breakfast, because A) it’s been a while since I really rode her, B) we’ve had some cold nights lately, which can drain a battery left unused and outside, and C) due to finances of the moment, I was forced to buy a low quality, cheap-ass battery a few months ago.

Aaaaaanyhow, I got her all fired up and warmed up and myself suited up. Huh, look at that sentence – my day was already looking up….. (see what I did there?)

Sunday Rd on Sunday afternoon

Off I went. I started down some familiar territory, but chose some different roads branching off the state highways I’ve gotten used to. When you see a side road named Sunday Rd and you’re riding with no destination or schedule on a Sunday, you just kinda HAVE to try it, right? It turned out to be mainly residential, but had some hills and curves, so it wasn’t completely disappointing. A weird thing about today was that I kept taking these random turns onto roads I’d never ridden before, and somehow I kept riding circles and coming back to places I’d already been today. I’m not gonna lie, it felt like a metaphor for life, especially with the way my mind had been working earlier in the day.









But I just rolled with it, and let the engine vibration, the chilly air and the wind brush the stress away. After a couple of hours of crisp air, rolling through some semi-rural roads lined with a mix of Georgia pine and half barren trees still hanging onto some leaves that varied between red, brown, and gold, my mental load felt a lot lighter. Even when I found myself on an unfamiliar road heading toward downtown, with long lines at red lights, I didn’t stress it.

Autumn foliage in the metro ATL

Well, until I got stuck behind a bus doing 30 in a 45, holding up traffic, with no clear sight line to be able to pass safely. And me with a full bladder! By the time I was able to stop somewhere, I was doing the pee pee dance. Ah well, a couple drinks later and I was back to being relaxed.

So, the cure for an overthinking day in November appears to be wind and gin. In that order, mind you: be safe out there.

Winterizing Your Motorcycle (Southern Style)

You can find all kinds of articles in print and online containing information on how to “winterize” your motorcycle. From what I can tell, the final step involves actually ignoring the poor machine, possibly for months, afterwards.

But whyyyyyyy?????

Speaking from my own experience, having lived as far north as the Baltimore suburbs for two winters, I can tell you all you really need to know to winterize your bike.

1. Make sure your tires have good tread and keep them inflated to the proper psi. Or whatever the metric equivalent is, if you live in one of those places.
2. Be sure to change your oil and filter every 3,000 miles or so. Again, or the metric equivalent. You do the math, because I don’t feel like it.
3. This one is very important, and can save you a LOT of trouble. As soon as possible after switching to reserve or seeing the fuel light come on, refill your gas tank.
These are the basic steps to winterizing a motorcycle, and should keep you running through the winter. Also, for the rest of the year, for that matter.

Advanced steps might include things like installing a windshield/fairing, a wiring accessory to plug an electric jacket/vest liner into, or memorizing the locations of the Waffle House locations in your area that tend to have the freshest coffee.


Ride ‘em, don’t hide ‘em, folks!

So Far

As I’m closing in on the half century mark, I grow reflective and pensive. Of course this is contributed to by friends’ Facebook posts. One high school classmate posted about her list of 50 Things To Do Before Turning 50. Another turned 50 today and posted a status with his own particular wry take on the fiftieth trip around the sun.

In the past, I’ve been inclined to think I’ve led a boring life. After all, most of my friends usually have wilder, bolder, more extreme stories of their exploits. Occasionally, I get reminders that everything is relative. It’s less a case of a boring life, and more that I’ve chosen to surround myself with some truly larger than life folks.

I thought I was boring, calm, conservative. Hearing my girlfriend-at-the-time’s assessment of my lifestyle a few years ago made me realize that I was just the calm one in my crowd. Kind of like being the smartest kid on the short bus, apparently, because ultimately I was too wild and out there for her.

Several years ago, I was standing in line waiting for the accountants who set up temporary kiosks at Walmart to do taxes. I’d ridden, so I was wearing my club colors. An older gentleman who was also waiting to get his taxes done starting asking questions about the various patches on my cut. Normally, too many questions will get on my nerves. However, this gentleman seemed genuinely just simply curious, and was completely respectful. We wound up in quite a long conversation (highly unusual for me in such circumstances), and he drew my history out of me. As we closed our talk, he commented “Well, you’ve certainly had an interesting life so far.” And I was awestruck by that simple statement. I’ve lost sight of it many times since, but once in a while that conversation drifts back to mind and I reflect back on my “boring” life.

Let’s see, looking back…………

Six weeks after high school graduation, I was in Navy Boot Camp. I went to the Defense Language Institute, where I became fluent in Farsi, then went on to a couple of other schools for intelligence/crypto training. My permanent duty station (PCS) was at the Naval Security Group Activity (NSGA) Ft. Meade, in Maryland. It’s home to the NSA, whose headquarters building I worked in for a couple of years. I was deployed to Command, Middle East Forces (COMMIDEASTFOR), in the Persian Gulf, and spent time on multiple warships manned by the finest maritime fighting force in the world. I saw offshore oil rigs spouting flames several stories into the air, resulting from a battle more than two years prior. I watched schools of luminescent fish swim alongside a frigate at night. Walked the twisted streets of the bazaar in Manama, Bahrain – streets and buildings which had probably not changed much in hundreds of years (with the exception of adding wiring and plumbing). I climbed a rope ladder down the side of a frigate and jumped into a 27’ boat to travel a couple hundred yards and climb up a rope ladder and board a cruiser. There’s nothing quite like a sunset crossdeck by motor boat while underway in the PG.

Counting my military time, I’ve lived in Georgia, California, Texas, Florida, and Maryland.

In all, I’ve set foot in seven foreign countries and twenty three states (and Washington, DC).

I’ve ridden a motorcycle in fifteen states and Mexico. I’ve ridden in temperatures over 110 degrees, and under 20. I’ve ridden in rain so hard I couldn’t see the lane divider lines. I’ve been caught in freezing rain such that when I stood up off the bike, sheets of ice fell off me. I’ve ridden at ludicrous speeds through ridiculous situations with complete confidence in my fellow riders. I’ve spent saddle time alongside some of the best motorcycle riders there are. Also, some of the worst. I’ve managed to get groups I was leading hopelessly lost in the middle of nowhere, but hey – if it all went according to plan, we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, would we?

I’ve had the pleasure and honor to wear colors with the greatest Motorcycle Club in the world for over 25 years: Gypsy MC. During that time, I served as Road Captain five times, Sergeant At Arms five or six terms, Vice President twice, Secretary twice, and ultimately was an Area Vice President for four years before retiring from active membership. They say the colors don’t make the person, the person makes the colors, but Gypsy has a lot to do with who I am today.

I’ve been threatened with knives and guns and survived. I’ve fought in bars, raced on the streets along the Mexico border, and been involved in a car/motorcycle chase and here I am. Maybe a little worse for wear, but there’s that thing about things to talk about, eh? The best stories come from the worst decisions. 



I’ve been with women. Mostly (but not always), we parted ways on a friendly note. Mostly (but not always) we parted due to some fault of mine. (Cue Julio Iglesias’ song “To All The Girls I’ve Loved Before”….). I’d like to think I’ve learned some lessons along the way and I hope that my current relationship lasts.

I have two wonderful children, one of whom is starting his own adulthood, and one who is just beginning her education. I couldn’t be prouder of either of them. He’s working at building a career in the entertainment industry, and even at her young age, she’s leaning towards art. My two artists: I can’t wait to see where their own journeys take them.

I’ve recently relocated back to Georgia, and my childhood home. Back to my roots. Beginning the next chapter of my life. Who knows what adventures lie in wait for me in the next few decades? After all, it’s been a pretty eventful “boring” life…


So far.