Category: Humor

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Huskie Pride

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Thanks to all teachers past and present, you are all making a positive difference in these kid’s lives and I know you will continue to do so in the future.

Today I was graciously invited to lunch by my granddaughter Kylie, and this meant a trip back to White City for lunch in the school cafeteria. I must admit I was looking forward to it. Being an alum of White City School, I still find it hard to wrap my head around the grade school not having lunch in the little gym. Now, with the commons area between the high school and grade school, lunch would have a whole different flavor, if you will.

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With second graders eating at 11:00 am I jumped on my motorcycle and headed home. I don’t normally eat this early but today it isn’t really about me. But unbeknownst to Kylie, and Casen who I knew would also be there, I’m the real winner. Arriving just a few minutes early, I have the opportunity to see some familiar faces. Small town life is like that – I went to school here, my kids went to school here and now my grandkids are attending the same school. There is a certain level of comfort in this. Today being “Crazy Hair Day” at school I didn’t have much time to prepare. Pulling my helmet off is about as crazy as my hair gets.

It’s great to see my grandkids in one of their natural habitats. I don’t usually have this opportunity, but it amazes me how fast they are growing and how they interact with their classmates. A wonderful sight for sure. Casen’s teacher Joni lives about a block from my daughter and Joni and my daughter Kelly’s kids are in the same classes. Again, it’s comforting to know this as I’ve known Joni and her folks for what seems forever. I’m friends with her folks and they ride motorcycles so there is that connection.

The one thing I do want to point out is this; I watched Kylie’s teacher Kim and Casen’s teacher Joni interact with their students and it was truly heartwarming. They care. They are educators but believe me what I saw today told me they are so much more than that. Their students react to them and it shows. Now I know, this isn’t just a proud grandparent saying these things – these are teachers that have an impact on these children’s lives each and every year, much like my teacher’s impacted me through school. In fact, there are a few teachers teaching in White City right now that are the children of the teachers who taught me. Crazy, but cool.

Thanks to the staff at White City School for the hospitality today. The food was great, and thanks for taking good care of my grandkids. Kim and Joni – thank you too for all you do! And to all teachers past and present, you are all making a positive difference in these kid’s lives and I know you will continue to do so in the future.

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The Hunchback of White City

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The last week or so is a reminder to myself I’m really not as young as I think I am. I’ve had a nagging back problem for the last 25 years and every so often it tells me who is in charge. It’s very simple; a sneeze or cough, or maybe even just a slight twist and in a matter of hours I’m walking like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. Within a few days it’s back to normal and I’m up in the tower ringing the bell like a boss.

This particular episode has me wondering if I’ll ever get back into the bell tower. It started out lasting a little longer than normal, so I went to the doctor. With a little more than two pills I was feeling better and walking around like it never happened. But once again, I’ve had that bit of a twinge indicating its return. It will be a long day. I’m not sure what I did, but it must have been enough. Of course, if I happen to see a $100 bill on the ground, I’m going for it. Even a $50. Probably a $20 too. A $5 bill? We’ll see how I feel.

Of course, if I happen to see a $100 bill on the ground, I’m going for it. Even a $50. Probably a $20 too. A $5 bill? We’ll see how I feel.

It will get better I know. With the weather warming up it has to. I have lots to do and a motorcycle that is begging to go for a ride, and who am I to argue? I always try to remember that there are plenty of people worse off than me and the fact that my socks won’t put themselves on is minor in comparison. And if I keep moving it should work itself out, right?

There are two sides to you’re only as old as you feel – mental and physical. When both are in harmony the possibilities are endless, when one is out of sync with the other the days can be endless. I rode my motorcycle to lunch today and I wasn’t sure I could get off the seat to walk inside. I’m sure that all those sitting in Subway having lunch were amused as I climbed off my bike but I found a little humor in it. Hey, if you can’t laugh at yourself…

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That’s How We’re Built – Outland Moto

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The motorcycle has a way of bringing people together. It really doesn’t matter if you ride one or not, a motorcycle connects families, friends and strangers in the oddest of ways. I’ve been fortunate enough with this blog to have the path I’m carving for myself cross paths of like-minded people all around the world. Is it the blog or motorcycles? Yes and yes. When you speak a certain language, it comes across in many different ways. Whether you ride, read or photograph this lifestyle, you have an opportunity to pull people together and share this wonderful world of motorcycling.

Let’s face it, as long as you ride a motorcycle you’ll find everything about them interesting. We’re just built that way.

When Jim Vota of Outland Moto first contacted me and asked if I would be interested in writing for him, I was flattered. I was fairly new to this whole thing and after looking at his website I wasn’t sure I was a good fit. He convinced me otherwise and away we went. What a fantastic experience this was! This was my opportunity to write in a more general way to appeal to a broad-base of enthusiast. Let’s face it, as long as you ride a motorcycle you’ll find everything about them interesting. We’re just built that way.

As time passed, Jim expressed to me that he was taking his website in a little different direction. If you check out his site you will see-as in his own words-A celebration of the motorcycle and places it takes us. This is so true. I know the motorcycle has changed my life and it has not only taken me places physically and emotionally, but professionally as well. Few folks can experience the trifecta of motorcycling, but I’m getting closer. Are you?

I have a few friends to thank for this and Jim is one of them. He and Kristen believed in me enough to give me a shot at putting my stuff out there for the world to read and for that I thank you both. Now, through the lens of a camera, their images invoke what this sport is all about – beauty, detail and the complexity of the machine and how it all comes together to move us. Yes, to move us.

Now, through the lens of a camera, their images invoke what this sport is all about – beauty, detail and the complexity of the machine and how it all comes together to move us. Yes, to move us.

Jim this is long over-due, but thank you. Thanks for giving this small town Kansas boy an opportunity to write about something that has been a big part of my life-Motorcycles. And thanks for your contribution to a lifestyle that is enjoyed around the world. Follow along on their continueing journey through Instagram, Twitter and Facebook.

 

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The Annual Kick in the Pants

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Peace. That calm, quiet, blue feeling of understanding we look for when chaos surrounds us. That edge of darkness with a sliver of light on the horizon drawing our gaze eastward and our thoughts upward in search of answers to questions in the book called Our Life. I have a lot of questions.

 So I stand, feet firmly on the ground, waiting for a stiff breeze to sway me. Even a stiff drink would help.

Some days the wind of change doesn’t blow hard enough. Seasons will change and we can feel the difference, but does it make a difference? Time keeps ticking, but what time is it, really? Sometimes the best gauge we have is our gut. We surely wouldn’t lie to ourselves, would we? So I stand, feet firmly on the ground, waiting for a stiff breeze to sway me. Even a stiff drink would help.

I often fan the pages to this book of mine instead of appreciating each and every word printed upon them. Rather than a quick glance or skipping pages altogether, I should allow myself the time to absorb the story as its told. After all, it is about me.

I’m not sure if it’s the age of which I find myself or if it’s that point in the year when I need the annual kick in the pants to bring me to my senses. But its time. Time to turn a few pages, stop looking at just the pictures and get busy. As the weather changes in favor of riding motorcycles, we will soon forget about all the days we didn’t ride.

Have you read a good book lately?

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A Little Bit of Epic

Jeff Maddox's avatarJeff Maddox

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Some people have a way about them. There are those who are driven and challenged to be something bigger than the moment they live in. I believe Neale Bayly is this kind of person. I haven’t met Neale, but I understand him from a motorcyclist’s point of view. As bikers, we are always looking for “epic” in every ride but end up finding so much more than that. Neale has a series airing on MAVTV this month about his ride on BMW GS series motorcycles through Peru to the Hogar Belen Orphanage. The ride takes Neale and his friends from Lima to Moquegua to visit this orphanage where Neale has visited before. He was inspired enough to start the nonprofit organization called Wellspring International Outreach to help orphans and abandoned children.

It becomes about the surroundings and environment you’re in and it changes you. There is something about traveling on a motorcycle that brings the people to you.

The world…

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Stretching the Truth

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 But one truth that is hard to stretch, let alone find the words for – is the natural beauty as the day begins and ends.

A small break in the winter weather found me riding my bike the last couple of days. Yeah, it’s cold in the mornings but the ride home was generally a nice one and it also helps not only physically, but mentally that the sun is hanging around a little longer to see me home. But the mornings have always been one of my favorite times to ride, and even though the temperatures keep you honest this time of year, it is when the road is mostly mine.
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The last couple of days have had me thinking about the serious side of life. There are a certain amount of expectations required by any responsible adult and I would consider myself somewhat responsible. The fact that some people may think by me riding a motorcycle I smell like exhaust and alcohol, I’m wearing the same clothes since the last beer-drinking-bonfire-slash-rally and I’m itching to pick a fight if you look at me sideways. Well I do smell like exhaust a good portion of the time but aside from that I’m just a normal guy. And I have a clean shirt on.

If there is one thing about a motorcycle blog, it gives you plenty of time to write about the sunrise and sunsets on a regular basis. Since most days start and end in this manner it almost seems redundant to mention, but I do anyway. Mostly because they are just that beautiful. Throw in a couple of local landmarks into the shot and anyone who grew up here and around White City can take it in as well. Although we all share the same sunrise and sunsets, we don’t always have the time to take it all in.

It’s hard to think about those long hot summer days when a morning ride might start out in the 30’s here in February, but they’re coming. Soon, these cold morning rides will be another memory and when they get shared to a fellow rider, I might even embellish how cold it really was. But one truth that is hard to stretch, let alone find the words for – is the natural beauty as the day begins and ends.

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Inside This Helmet of Mine

It’s a simple concept really. Write a blog about growing up in a small town and my experiences riding my motorcycles. This is how it all started and, for the most part, still is. As this blog has grown and more and more people from around the world read it, it tells me that this simple life of mine and my reflections on life from the seat of my bike have been enthralling, or at the very least humorous in some way. If nothing else it has given you a look at what goes on in this helmet of mine.

So where do I go from here? I fully enjoy writing and putting these thoughts I have out there, and I would probably still do this even if it was more in journal form. A book with real pages and an ink pen that writes in cursive hidden in the hallway next to my motorcycle helmet sort of journal. But if you know me, you know I don’t write in cursive, but in all-caps. Come to think of it, I type using four or five fingers out of the ten I have but it all seems to work out somehow.

Winter weather, like our age is all subject to perception. I’m still young at heart and there is plenty of beauty and nice days during the winter months – it’s all in how you choose to look at it.

As winter keeps me from riding as frequent, or more accurately my urge to throw away my underoos and pull up my big-boy underwear, I find the desire to ride to be that much more obvious. Winter weather, like our age is all subject to perception. I’m still young at heart and there is plenty of beauty and nice days during the winter months – it’s all in how you choose to look at it. You would think the cold weather wouldn’t bother me as much as I appear to have put on my winter layer of fat. Mind over matter…Blah! Acting like a kid in trouble, I walk past the bike in the garage on my way out the door trying not to make eye-contact with it. I’m sorry for all the nice days I didn’t ride, and I will try harder this year. But the blog goes on anyway.

It really is hard to believe this blog is going on five years now. Five years of letting my thoughts fall out of my head in this random order and putting it out there for anyone who wants to read it. I go back and read some of my past posts and it surprises me that I’m even capable of putting a sentence together. If there is one thing that surprises me the most is the top three post that I’ve written. White City Ks. 66872, Hello, My Name Is Jeff, and A Dip In The Road have been some of the most viewed posts I’ve had and I thank all of you for that. I do have my personal favorites as well and these three are right up there. Some posts are more personal than others and some don’t tell the whole story but for the most part the point comes across. And there are some things I have wanted to write about but just haven’t pulled the trigger. If you could see the draft section of this blog it would truly show how random I can be. Yikes!

 

 

 

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A Sight for Sore Eyes

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If you read anything I write about my zany travels on my motorcycle you know there are many times I talk of wild animals, crazy drivers, Walmart bags and what appear to be flying squirrels coming at me as I roll down the highways and byways of Kansas. Although I make light of these things there is a seriousness to riding bikes. Nature and garbage are one thing because they know no better, but those drivers who refuse to notice me are another. I’ve never been the type to say “look at me!” but in this instance I am.

I can go on about my frustrations, but I won’t. But what I did do was reach out to the Kansas Highway Patrol through their twitter account explaining my experiences passing through the intersection Of I-70 and Ks. Hwy 77 every morning on my way to work. As a motorcyclist it was refreshing to see a Kansas Highway Patrol Trooper sitting along the highway monitoring traffic exiting 1-70. With a big wave I thanked the trooper, but to me it wasn’t enough. As I pulled into a car dealership driveway to circle around, my intentions were to hop a barb wire fence to personally thank him. Okay, hop a barb wire fence at my age and in my full leather gear might be a stretch, but I would have found a way. This is an example to NOT look at me. By the time I got close enough to do so, Trooper Cameron pulled out to stop a motorist violating the law. Missing my chance to thank the trooper, I felt compelled to contact KHP through twitter.

 The vulnerability we motorcyclists feel at times can be nerve-wracking and although we ride defensively, it’s nice to know there are men and women out there helping not only our cause as bikers but by being there for all motorists as well.

Trooper Ben who has been instrumental in at least making me feel better. But he has gone above and beyond that. The vulnerability we motorcyclists feel at times can be nerve-wracking and although we ride defensively, it’s nice to know there are men and women out there helping not only our cause as bikers but being there for all motorists. Trooper Ben responded back today telling me it was Trooper Cameron sitting in the car as I passed, and I know as he pulled over the motorist, all they were thinking about was the anger they were feeling for getting pulled over. I’m sure they weren’t thinking about what could have happened by not stopping at the stop sign as they came off the Interstate ramp where I find myself passing each morning on my motorcycle.

Thank you to the Kansas Highway Patrol. Thank you to all who patrol our streets and highways, and to those first responders for being there in our time of need. At times you may feel its a thankless job but I’m here to tell you otherwise. Thank you.

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Groovier

As the weather finally allowed me to ride to work this morning, I had a few miles to think about years past when I would have been riding most every day instead of picking and choosing the days as I am now. It felt good to get the bike out and although a little chilly at 24 degrees, it was still a nice ride in. It was almost as if instead of watching for deer through the Skiddy basin, I was watching unicorns cross at the appropriate marked areas along the highway. Yes, it felt that good.

But it truly is more than that. I usually go on and on about riding and how I use this time to put my thoughts together, and even though this is true, this particular ride I was waiting for my head to clear and I think my expectations of one ride to be my fix-all. I believe now it might take more than a twenty minute ride to work to achieve this. Sure, I have my ride home and my frame of mind will be different allowing me to focus not on the fact it has been a little while since the last ride and focus on this ride.

. My bike allows my mind to be wherever I want to be at any given time and it also lets me dream and wish until I run out of gas. If that happens, I guess I could just jump on the back of one of these unicorns and continue on.

I sure do a lot of thinking, huh? Why analyze the ride when it’s easier to just go? Good question. We all have our reasons for riding motorcycles, and mine acts as a mirror to my past and where I might be headed in the future. It also gives me a place to see what could have been and what will be. Kind of like a time machine, only better. A time machine is designed to place you into a certain period of time whether it be the future of the past. My bike allows my mind to be wherever I want to be at any given time and it also lets me dream and wish until I run out of gas. If that happens, I guess I could just jump on the back of one of these unicorns and continue on. Note to self – get gas.

As warmer weather and longer days get closer, I know I’ll get into a groove again. There is a huge difference between a groove and a rut. Same principle but one is, how do I say it – groovier. Yeah, groovier. I know what you’re thinking; what kind of ride takes you through the Skiddy basin on a motorcycle, seeing unicorns and saying groovier? I’m not sure how to respond to that, but at least I’m getting out of a rut.

I can’t wait for trees with leaves and grass to line the roads I travel. A southern breeze with the sun hitting the back of my neck is a good feeling for anyone but especially a motorcyclist. Just a thought, do unicorns have a rut season?

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I’m Bitter, and Cold

So this goes without saying but I’m saying it anyway. If you live anywhere that experiences a full swing of seasons and you ride a motorcycle, it can be the same as an emotional rollercoaster. Ride today, wait a week, sneak in a 15 minute ride before the temperatures drop at dusk and then spend days walking around dazed and confused at the conflicting reports of weather from one channel to the next. What TV station is right and why do the weathermen lie to me? Even my phone can be overly optimistic when it comes to predicting the weather and riding my motorcycle.

I know it’s temporary and Spring is right around the corner, but for crying out loud, I need to put some miles on my bike as all of this winter baggage is stacking up in my head. I have all these thoughts running around in no particular order and I use my bike to file them properly. My head feels like someone dumped a filing cabinet in the front yard while the wind was blowing and left me to pick it up. In the dark. With my motorcycle mocking me through the garage window.

We all know the solution to this. Move. Move south where the sun shines 365 days a year and the temperature hovers in the 70’s every day. Trees and grass and rainbows around every curve, and no matter the direction you look, there are mountains and clouds that have whatever shape that makes you happy…blah, blah and blah.

But when the weather finally does break, look out. You can only hold the excitement back for so long and then we kick the door in and free that trapped motorcycle from the chains of isolation we call a battery tender.

The reality is overcast, cold and windy with a chance of rain mixed with snow. My motorcycle is sitting in the garage (or at least I hope it is, I can’t say I’ve looked that hard) just waiting to be backed out and fired up. It’s tough having a blog about riding motorcycles when, well, you can’t except for maybe that sliver of nice weather the weatherman is promising me, next Thursday, south of I-70 between 9 am and 9:45 am – if you’re lucky. But that’s a week away and it might as well be a month from now. Do I sound bitter? I sound like I ride motorcycles.

But when the weather finally does break, look out. You can only hold the excitement back for so long and then we kick the door in and free that trapped motorcycle from the chains of isolation we call a battery tender.

We ride motorcycles, and unless you are fortunate enough to live in the land where the weathermen are accurate and the roads are free of salt and sand, we wait. We wait until we can wait no more. Be patient my fellow riders as it’s coming… soon.