Shaking the Rug


20161010_154312_hdr1On this evening’s ride home I noticed my shadow, stretched long and thin, riding ahead of me as I headed east. It’s getting darker sooner and the temperature is dropping faster as the day quickly comes to an end. Or is it the evening is beginning sooner? We motorcyclists are bracing ourselves and preparing for cooler rides led by our headlights. I’m not sure if its my age or not but cool is now cold and cold is now really cold. It could be I’m just getting old.

But I still make my mind up to ride. Just since Sturgis I’ve racked up about 10,000 miles on my Ultra Classic and I felt it was time to trade. Coming in with just under 70,000 on the clock, it still had a lot of miles left on it but if I were to continue riding it by next summer it would have had around 85,000 to 90,000. I traded a Road King in on the Ultra and now as you can see, a Road King it is again. I’ve been asked why I would give up the trunk and stereo but honestly I’m a fan of the Road King. It fits me and it’s a kick in the pants to ride.

There will always be a slight transition when you move from one bike to another. I have a tendency to carry more than I need to and this gives me an opportunity to sort and whittle down what isn’t necessary. Much like the bikers of old, we should carry the bare minimum when we ride. I found stuff in my saddle bags that really shouldn’t even be on a motorcycle. Socks? Really? So it’s like spring cleaning for me but only in the fall. I’m sure it won’t take long to accumulate those random items all over again in the next couple of years, but once in a while you just need to shake the rug if you get my drift.

So if you follow along with this blog you see a different bike in the picture. The Road King will evolve a bit over time but for the most part what you see is what you get. Even I find it remarkable to the transitions from a Heritage to a Road King to an Ultra Classic and back again. There sure have been a lot of miles and memories on each and every one of these Harley-Davidsons and I can appreciate each one for taking me on their own unique journey. I can’t wait to see where this one takes me.


2016-01-30 07.26.17

As the sun had already set on my later-than-usual ride home last night, I noticed the remains of the day lighting what was left of the evening sky. That moment where day meets night and the struggle between the two leaves the clouds visible along with the moon and a few stars. Almost as if the sun said “enough!” and went to bed.

I haven’t had a ride like this one for a while. After working a little late and being fully prepared to look out for deer, I headed south to home. But once I reached the highway and rolled up to speed I completely forgot about safety first. I like riding at night and I always say I should do it more often. There is something about how the landscape looks in comparison to the day-to-day commute. I noticed how my mind wandered to places it hasn’t been in a long time. These are places that I always want to go, but lately haven’t had the chance. For a short twenty-minute ride home, this ride seemed to take me the long way, carrying me down the road most affectionately called memory lane. Somehow my internal GPS has been re-calculating unable to find this road for the last few months.

These are places that I always want to go, but lately haven’t had the chance. For a short twenty-minute ride home, this one seemed to take the long way carrying me down the road most affectionately called memory lane

I’ve had a desperate need to sort through some things and as unpredictable as life can be, tonight was the night. I pictured myself having a couple of hours in the saddle to reflect and understand these things that forever pile up, but the Lord works in mysterious ways. Apparently twenty minutes is enough. For now. It felt good to put myself in a place – albeit temporary or imaginary – which provides clarity. To allow myself a moment of focus and to see through the fog that resides in the valleys of my grey matter always helps with my decipherability.

For those few minutes on the bike my mind was elsewhere. I felt as if I lived 100 miles from where I found myself but beyond that, my head was telling me to continue down this road of memories. A place we all should visit more often.


August Part Two: Boston and Back

So part two of my epic August involved a trip to Boston for the Harley-Davidson summer dealer meeting. What would normally be done via airplane, Dennis our parts manager and I decided to ride to the show with a total of around 3500 miles round-trip. Sounds exciting, doesn’t it? Well I must say it was. Having never been further east on my motorcycle than St. Louis I thought this would be an awesome ride. I was right. Our first leg was from Junction City Kansas to Columbus Ohio, about 850 miles with the last 100 or so in the rain. Yep, me and my famous rain suit got to know each other at a whole new level. Somewhere there is a 10-year-old boy wondering where his rain suit pants are.


There are a few preconceived notions I’ve had about the east coast: First, I pictured angry drivers. This was not the case. Most folks in their cars and trucks were very nice and even made room on the road when we needed to change lanes, etc. Pleasantly surprised. Second, I pictured pothole ridden roads and rusty bridges. Dare I say, the roads were great except for a couple of spots. One in particular would have swallowed me whole. As Dennis veered left I had a split second to avoid it – with my cat-like reflexes and my innate ability to shoot bullets around corners I bent the universe to avoid going down. Yes. This was the big one. Damage would have been done to my already tired Ultra Classic had either of us hit this hole. Whew. Thirdly, I wasn’t expecting so many trees. Don’t ask me why but for whatever reason I was looking for more concrete and skyscrapers. Don’t forget, I live in Kansas. I’m sure they have their own preconceived notions about us. No offense to my friends Steve Berner and Laurie Buchwald. We were hoping to stop and see Steve on Monday, but it just didn’t work out. We will next time Steve, I promise.

Connecticut Turnpike McDonalds

Connecticut Turnpike McDonald’s


Though most of the trip was uneventful, the scenery was fantastic. We ate up a lot of miles the first couple of days just so our day of arrival would be a little shorter. We arrived in Boston early afternoon on Monday to get parked, unloaded and checked in to the hotel. Beer? Why don’t mind if I do. Let me sum up the show for you. Monday night at the meet and greet, (after a beer or was it two?) I was offered a part-time job with a dealer in China. He was so impressed by Dennis and I that he felt the need to extend the offer for the part-time gig. I explained that unless it was full-time I would have to pass. Talking to him through his niece the interpreter, I was clear that there truly is something lost in translation. I find myself incredibly funny and I’m not sure he completely understood that part. His niece Wenn was in stitches. Why am I the only one drinking in this picture? After this photo was taken Wang’s wife took the time to show me all of her family pictures on her phone. With only a few words spoken in English, I feel like a member of the family. I’ve said it before and I don’t completely understand it, but people will share their life story with me. I’m honored to have met this family.


After Tuesday and Wednesday of taking care of business at the show, we headed back. I now know where the phrase “highway robbery” came from. Toll roads. This is one thing I wasn’t expecting on this trip and it’s apparent this is big business out east. Nice people though. We could see the rain coming and asked if there was any place we could put our rain suits on and the lady said just pull over here. So we did.


Other than that, I was genuinely impressed with the whole thing. I almost forgot Tuesday night in the hotel bar. When you’re drinking with a guy that goes by the name Pickle, you better hold on.

The ride back was just as enjoyable. So many local, friendly people that we came across were completely made the trip. We did get a little lost somewhere in Vermont but that’s all a part of the adventure.


All in all it was a great trip and I thank Dennis for leading the way. It was a pleasure to ride on this very memorable trip with you and I would do it again in a minute.


So Dennis and I were riding touring bikes. Cruise control, storage, comfortable seats and stereos. Pretty awesome, huh? After spending the night in Effingham Illinois Thursday night, we headed out pretty early to get me home so I could drive a Uhaul truck to Colorado Springs for my daughter Kelly. We stopped in Sweet Springs Missouri for gas and a cup of coffee around 7:30 am. A young man pulled up to the pump on a 2013 1200 Sportster 72 model with a backpack and a full face helmet on. I waved as all of us do and he gassed up and waved back. We passed this young man around Lawrence Kansas on the turnpike. We waved from the well-padded seats we were sitting upon and he waved back. After reaching highway 1-77 I peeled off to head home and pick up the truck to finish my day driving to  Colorado. Around 2:30 pm I got on the road stopping in Wakeeney Kansas to grab a bite and gas up the truck. My next stop, Limon Colorado, I pulled in around 9:00 pm for gas and more coffee only to be followed in my yes, you guessed it, our friend on the Sportster. Of course I had to ask him if he remembered waving at a couple of guys on touring bikes and he said yes. I’m one of those guys. He left Columbia Missouri on his way to Denver for the night, heading home to Phoenix the next day. On a bike with a 2.1 gallon gas tank and a seat made in the same place that nightmares come from. That’s a 750 mile ride for the day and he acted like it was nothing special. His 2013 had a little over 40,000 miles on it and he told me he makes this trip all the time. He has my respect and I will forever quit my complaining about being saddle-sore.


All the Cool Kids Are Doing It – Sturgis 2016

The month of August has been a whirlwind. With a ride to Sturgis and another to the East Coast I’ve racked up about 5500 miles between the two. I know…I say it all the time. I ride a motorcycle a lot. You get it, and you’ve heard it before. But one thing I’m not sure you know. Not every ride has the same effect on me. The usual ride to and from work is one thing and of course the ride to Sturgis has its moments, but the ride to the east coast was a lot crammed into a short period of time. With an average of about 600 miles a day there were times when it wasn’t fun. But it kinda was. Get it? Also a guy like me really doesn’t need that much time to think. Life, family, friends and where this is all heading at this stage of my life definitely kept my mind busy.




The New Full Throttle Saloon


The New Full Throttle Saloon

First the trip to Sturgis. Three guys on touring bikes, loaded with everything you need to camp for a few days. Of course some have better packing skills than others, and I am always confused with why I carry so much crap. As DJ, Gary and I headed out for our first leg to Enders Lake, we stopped in Beloit Kansas for gas. About halfway there we were passed by a little gal on her Dyna who looked to be in a bit of a hurry. Other than catching her braided hair coming from the back of her helmet and the tiny bag strapped to her back seat I didn’t get much of a look. That is, until we stopped for gas in Beloit. She pulled in behind us after we had moved our bikes to the parking spaces in front of the Casey’s General Store. As I walked over to her at the pump I asked where she was headed. Alliance Nebraska tonight, but ultimately Sturgis she says. Hmm. Where did you start your day? She replies Oklahoma City. It’s already 3:00 pm and we’re hoping to make it to Enders by dark and she has a bit further to go than we do. I asked if she needed anything, and with a “no” she was gone. Our next stop is about 30 miles away in Cawker City so Gary and DJ can wrap their arms around the World’s Largest Ball of Twine. Deja vu for me as it seems like just this past May I was standing there with three of my closest friends, the 3 Amigos. And who is stopped taking the obligatory picture of the current record-holder in the twine category? Our friend on her Dyna. Yep. After a formal introduction, I find out her name is Staci. I wish her safe travels and away she rolls. More about Staci later.


We made it to Enders Lake in southeast Nebraska just about dark and it was a nice quiet (dry) evening of sleeping in the tent. The next day put us in about 100 miles of rain and of course that can be expected. I won’t bore you with much about the rally – nice weather, rain two nights and flooding in my tent. I did meet the Lebo’s at One Eyed Jacks for a beer or two and that was great. Did I take a few pictures? Regrettably no. I did meet a fascinating bartender from California and her name is Cecilia Fairchild. Not your typical bartender, but as I found out she is quite the writer and has a unique way with words. Unlike myself who…not has way. She and her boyfriend rode their Dyna from California to Sturgis to work the rally. I must be getting old. I ride a touring bike and all the cool kids are riding their Dyna’s.

By Tuesday I had enough and as I packed up, I decided it was time to head somewhere. I threw my tent (8 trips to Sturgis) in the trash and headed east to the Badlands. A hot and windy ride I eventually landed in Grand Island Nebraska for the night. An easy 250 mile ride from Grand Island with a stop in Belleville Kansas for a bite to eat and my Sturgis Rally is done. Repeat after me…I am skipping next year’s rally. But I say that every year.

Oh, and Staci? After about a week of being back from South Dakota, I found a picture of her on my Instagram feed. She quite the young lady. Website, blog and a photographer – she has ridden 100,000 miles on her three bikes in the last couple of years. I’m getting old…And I thought I put a lot of miles on. Who am I kidding?

I’ll follow up with my ride to Boston to round out my month of August. Stay tuned!


The Cross By The Side of The Road


It seems like a long time ago, but its only been about six or seven years. I was spending a lot of time on the road with my job and with that comes plenty of time to think. Everyone knows when I’m riding my bike my mind starts to wander so I guess it is also true when sitting behind the steering wheel looking through the windows at the world as it flies by.

During this time I was averaging about 450 miles a day and I began noticing that no matter what highway I was on there were always crosses, some more elaborate than others, memorializing loved ones lost in accidents. Some showing the weather and age of time, while others were obviously placed more recently, still the message was always clear; someone was truly missed. As we all know, the healing process can take many shapes and there isn’t a time-limit to grief. For some, it’s comforting to know that their loved one’s cross by the side of the road serves as a reminder to not only their family but to those who pass by. Love, healing, caring and remembering.

It was during this time I was thinking it would be nice for those lost to be remembered in a way that surviving family members could share their stories in a fitting tribute for others to see – far beyond the cross by the side of the road. When I got home I looked on the internet to see if there were any sites already out there and that’s when I found Jenny Jacobs. She was already in the early stages of putting this very idea together in website form. I contacted her and after a great conversation I knew she was the one who could bring this wonderful idea to life. And now The Cross By The Side of The Road is a reality.

I’m excited and proud for Jenny as this has been a long time coming. When you believe in something and you know that what you are bringing to others will help the healing for someone who experienced a great loss, is a person who truly cares. This website is not only for those who have pushed through the grief and memorialized their loved ones with a cross along the road, this is also a way of helping others who are beginning their journey in healing from such a great loss.

Please take the time to check out Jenny’s website, and encourage those you know to check it out as well.


Drop It Like It’s Heavy


Some days. I guess not every day can start out with birds singing, the sun shining and a rainbow over your shoulder. This morning as I pushed my 890 pound motorcycle out of the garage, I almost dropped it. In a mad, desperate attempt I actually prevented it from hitting the deck. Oddly enough, earlier this week at work I caught another bike I was moving around from falling over. This is hard on an old man like me. Dropping my keys and then bending over to pick them up is difficult enough, but stopping a heavy motorcycle pulled towards hell by the earth’s gravity is not something I want to do everyday.

Dropping my keys and then bending over to pick them up is difficult enough, but stopping a heavy motorcycle pulled towards hell by the earth’s gravity is not something I want to do everyday.

So as a true motorcyclist, I shook it off, climbed on board and headed off to work. About a mile out-of-town as I settled in for my ride I actually smiled at my cat-like reflexes and superhuman strength. I laughed out loud at my own humor and down the road I went. The next few miles were very pleasant as the weather this morning was comfortable and the sky cloudy. My thoughts wandered about the trip to Sturgis, whether or not I was going to get wet in either direction for my morning commute and how all the cattle bunched up in the corner of the field are all shaking their heads at me because it’s going to rain.

So about halfway to work I stop at the stop sign at Skiddy West RD and highway 77 to wait on a car. Listening to the radio I was somewhat distracted but not so much that I wouldn’t wait on a car to pass. As I pulled out onto the highway heading north, I shifted up through the gears and set the cruise control letting my mind wander some more.

 I had my listening hat on trying to diagnose the strange sounds coming from between my legs.

I don’t know what it is about the weeks before a big trip, but I tend to get a little paranoid with my bike making unusual sounds and acting weird knowing I have some miles to travel. Weird noises or a slight hesitation may not bother me otherwise, but this morning the motor was making way more noise than usual. for the next 7 miles, I had my listening hat on trying to diagnose the strange sounds coming from between my legs. Approaching the construction zone just south of I-70 I kicked off the cruise and started down-shifting to prevent an expensive speeding ticket. It was then I realized I just rode those last few miles at 70 miles an hour with the cruise set while in fourth gear. Yeah, it’s going to be a good day.


Ready to Roll


Sometimes you just need to get away and I think that time is coming for me. Lately, I’ve been trying to figure out if a short ride to wherever could possibly put a damper on this feeling but one thing is for sure, that well worn path from home to work just isn’t cutting it. I’m known for saying that we need to travel outside the familiar landscape that surrounds us to truly feel like we’ve gone someplace, and this time of year gets me looking off into the horizon. State lines, mountains and oceans for a Kansas boy would be a good start.

 But the usual routes I’ve taken are getting to look a lot like the familiar roads I travel around home. I can always appreciate the feeling of chatting it up with someone I don’t know at a gas station in a town with no name.

With Sturgis less than sixty days a way, I know the probability is high that I will return to the Black Hills. But the usual routes I’ve taken are getting to look a lot like the familiar roads I travel around home. I can always appreciate the feeling of chatting it up with someone I don’t know at a gas station in a town with no name.

I’m not sure if it’s intentionally that I ride to sort my thoughts and to feel the wind as it blows through my thinning hair, or if all of this happens naturally because I ride. I do know that as I get a few hundred miles from home I feel the gentle release of my home town as it eases its steady hold on me and the overwhelming desire to go even further take its place. I’ve always wanted to travel this great country without an agenda and with the freedom to follow whatever whim comes my way, but the reality of work and responsibilities can make one feel guilty for even trying to.

So back to this year’s Sturgis Rally; I know this year it will be different because of my current frame of mind. By carefully planning to not make any plans, I’m hoping to change it up enough to convince myself that this trip won’t be like any before. Sure, there will be some sort of general plan but for the most part I just want to point and shoot without feeling like I need to be somewhere at a specific time. It should be easier for me to fly by the seat of my pants, and I do a pretty good job of making as few plans as possible, but there’s always that voice in my head secretly planning and weighing my options.

So as I go about my daily routine for the next few weeks, I’ll be planning on what to pack for the trip to South Dakota. Secretly I’ll be making a few decisions on which way to go, but the weather will also have a hand in this. You have to be flexible enough to go around the bad stuff if need be. But other than that, I’m winging it. We’ll see how long that lasts.