motorcycle – Page 3 – Jeff Maddox

February 24, 2016February 24, 2016

The Hunchback of White City

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…

February 2, 2016February 13, 2016

Stretching the Truth

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.

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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January 26, 2016January 26, 2016

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!

January 14, 2016January 15, 2016

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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January 6, 2016January 6, 2017

3 Amigos

It’s funny how we mark moments in our lives. Memories are made in the most random of ways and are usually referenced by a certain month or year in which it happened, or triggered when the friends we choose to surround ourselves will remind us of how it really was. Certain birthdays, a time of day, a street address, a highway sign and the list can go on and on. Numbers can make us do crazy things, and those lifelong friends poking and prodding each other along the way don’t help much either. Those same lifelong friends that have been through it all with you are the same ones that will be down for anything. Anything? Why not?

If you’re fortunate to have friends like this – friends that have always been there – count your lucky stars. Usually time erodes bonds and distance will put us in places where our closest friends aren’t. But when the opportunity comes, we can make up lost time as if it were the 80’s once more. Friends are always friends no matter the length of time or the distance we are apart. These guys seem to have had the luxury of keeping distance to a minimum, wouldn’t you say? You only live once, but friends are forever.

I recently found three guys who fit this description. Friends since they were 14 years old, they have hit the milestone of age; that magical age of 50. These three friends who live in the U.K. are planning a trip to the United States to ride US Highway 50 across this great land on Indian Motorcycles. Credit for this inspiration might have a little to do with Charley Boorman, who is known for taking life by the handlebars and living it to the fullest. This isn’t their first trip to the U.S. for sure, but this time it will be different. They will be riding highway 50 at the tender young age of 50 years old. Traveling coast to coast with your best mates sounds like something I would love to cross off my bucket list. Mid-life crisis? Probably, but who cares? Of course timing is important, as they are due to set off on their journey in May 2016. As luck would have it, highway 50 runs just south of where I live and I’m hoping to take a day and ride with them through a part of Kansas. I’m 53 and that’s close enough for me. Anyway, mom always told me to act my age, not my shoe size. She also said if all my friends jumped off a bridge would you? Hmm.

So please follow the 3 Amigos on twitter @ Ride50at50 to see how their #route50 adventure is going. Send them a message and wish them luck, but more importantly, if you see three friends on motorcycles acting their shoe size instead of their age, let me know!

December 1, 2015

I’ll Take That Bet

As a half-inch of ice covers my little world, I find myself walking past my motorcycle in the garage wondering if it will ever see sunlight again. I know it will, but at the end of November it feels like a warm(er) day of riding is a long way from today.
I have been known to ride through the dark days of winter and as long as it’s not dangerous, I can put up with cold temperatures. I draw the line however, at dangerous or soon-to-be dangerous roads. There are too many things out of my control when dealing with the weather and those other folks that have their hands on the steering wheel sharing my little piece of asphalt. Like pulling up a chair in Vegas at the blackjack table you have to know when to hold’em and know when to fold’em. Ice? I fold’em.

So when I ran into the owner of this motorcycle, I had to question his sanity. He left central Missouri on his way to York Nebraska for Thanksgiving, stopping just long enough to warm up and make a phone call or two. It was on the Wednesday before the holiday and it was cold and over-cast but dry. He said he was returning on Saturday, and me being a junior meteorologists and the proud owner of a crystal ball, I told him there was no way he would be riding back on Saturday. He proved me wrong, but he also proved me right at the same time. I was wrong about him coming back by on Saturday, but I was right about how riding in the winter is all about mental fortitude. He was soaked through and through. His leather jacket and insulated bib overalls were heavy with drizzle and his gloves were dripping from the ice that was melting on them. He was in high spirits considering his situation. As for me, I would have pulled over long before I got to this point. Not that I don’t have the fortitude to ride in the cold, and for that matter I feel I would have been a little more prepared by wearing a proper rain suit. But the roads were only going to get worse and the traffic was heavy due to the holiday. In other words, not a good hand at the blackjack table and it was not a good bet to continue on.

So after a handshake and a pat on his shoulder wishing him a safe trip, he climbed aboard his bike and took off heading east with another 3-4 hours of road ahead of him. Knowing he would arrive at his destination after dark, I knew the worst was yet to come for him. The glare from the headlights off the icy windshield and his full-face helmet would be sketchy at best and all of this while being tired and cold. I hope he made it safely. I hope he knows that complete strangers were worried about him. I hope he knows how dangerous it was to be doing this.

I know one thing for sure. He made a promise to me on Wednesday that he would return, and he did. A man of his word – and I have a feeling he made someone else a promise that he would make it home safe and sound. Safe travels my friend and I know we’ll meet again.

November 2, 2015

More Than Words Can Say

Pictures really do say more than words. An image can bring words to life and put both the writer and reader right there on the same page, so to speak.

With technology today, we have forgotten how to thumb through pages in photo albums during a family get-together. The heavy pages were full of memories yellowed by time and fuzzy like the stories we told about each image.

Time passes and memories may fade a little, but they’re our memories and as long as we can record them – whether digitally or on film – they will be great memories.

October 29, 2015February 13, 2016

Destinations Unknown

The kind of road that feels like walking through the house you grew up in. When you can walk through the house in complete darkness and not bump into anything, you have become one with it.

How can you write about motorcycles and not talk about the many roads we travel. Bikes and roads go together like the whole peanut butter and jelly thing, only we get more out of getting lost on a back road than getting lost going to the kitchen. Just as these highways we ride take us to destinations unknown, they will also take us to places so familiar that we can see them with our eyes closed. The kind of road that feels like walking through the house you grew up in. When you can walk through the house in complete darkness and not bump into anything, you have become one with it.

Have you taken a road you know you’ve never been on only to be convinced you’ve ridden it before? The scenery is vaguely familiar, the signs jump out at you as though its something you’ve already read, but you know deep down you haven’t been here. A classic case of deja vu perhaps? Maybe. It’s more likely a case of Biker’s Perspective. If you ride far enough you will eventually see how the landscape is put together. Rolling hills and green valleys with barns and silos dotting the scenery will eventually take you to either mountains, with their pine trees and elevation changes, or south to a drier climate with the road stretching out as far as you can see. Almost as if we are on a Hot Wheels track randomly snapped together to take us to the best places on earth. Just as long as the road doesn’t do a loop, we’ll be okay.

September 29, 2015February 13, 2016

The Skiddy Basin

Early this Saturday morning during my usual ride to work, I spent a few minutes trying to put some thoughts together. It seems to me on this cool, damp ride that my head was as foggy as the Skiddy Basin as I passed through it. Listening half-heartedly to the radio, Lee Brice was singing I Drive Your Truck setting the framework for my mood and giving me plenty to think about as I followed the road to prosperity.

There are so many triggers throughout our day that cause us to pause or stop and reflect. If you read anything I write you know I spend a lot of time reflecting on life and events that have happened. This is a direct result of my surroundings which by the way, is full of said triggers. The road I travel to work on is a road I’ve downed many times over the last 45 years, and while it’s bumps and curves remain the same my view of it has changed. That old road will always lead to somewhere but it is always taking me back.

That old road will always lead to somewhere but it is always taking me back.

As a kid, the 23 miles to anywhere from White City always seemed to take forever, but the older I get the distance seems insignificant. What’s 20 minutes in a lifetime? Although there are days when I wouldn’t mind sitting on a front porch looking out at an old truck in the driveway, contemplating the sunrise or sunsets. I suppose my blog wouldn’t be about motorcycles if that were the case. A small town guy riding and writing about rocking chairs doesn’t quite fit, does it? Hmm.

There is something about a quiet country highway on a motorcycle, a couple of bridges and the early morning to help you think. A country song on the radio doesn’t hurt either. Maybe the mixture of all the above is the perfect concoction to clear the fog and shorten the old road to anywhere.

September 23, 2015February 13, 2016

The Actions of Wild Animals and Trained Humans

There are so many reasons I ride a motorcycle. I don’t want to sound like a broken record but transportation and recreation are a start. The side benefits include a lower heart rate, clearer head and a prettier smile every time I climb off after a ride. Most benefits are hard to explain but I think you get the picture. I don’t ride to save gas but this too is a benefit, but I’m not bragging.

With all that’s good coming from riding motorcycles, there will always be a down side. Yes, wild animals can be a part of my daily routine. I’m not upset about it because I know living in a rural area, I’m traveling through their natural habitat. They don’t live by the same rules we humans do, so with that I give them a little latitude. The only wild thing a barbwire fence will keep off the road is a Wal-Mart bag… Deer, opossums and raccoons can be cute until they become obstacles in the road. Don’t they know I’m looking at the sunrise?

The only wild thing a barbwire fence will keep off the road is a Wal-Mart bag…

But this morning’s commute, like so many days before, has a danger I don’t talk about much. As most of my 23 mile ride to work is rural two-lane highway my attention is always on those sweet furry friends that live in the country. About a mile from work, just on the edge of town, everything changes for the worse. At the junction of highways 77 and I-70 lies something more beastly than any four-legged animal. Traffic. In a span of less than an eighth-mile I deal with more cars pulling out in front of me than I care to talk about. Every day. Most don’t stop at all, some use the turning lane as a onramp to merge onto highway 77 exiting I-70 and none of them see me. Even though I have the right-of-way, they look right through me. Obviously, the desire to pull out in front of me is much too strong for them to stop to let me pass safely. I have given the “angry bird morning wave” to many.

This morning was a close one. Believe me, it takes a lot to even bring it up because history shows me it will happen time and time again. I can handle the drivers that don’t stop because they have already revealed their intentions. It’s the driver who stops and then rolls forward and stops again, that always has me worried. The driver this morning was unpredictable. After I had already slowed down, a sudden movement from him caused me to lock up my back brake causing a slight fishtail, followed with a few wild hand gestures and a mouth full of bad words. For a brief second I was ready to kick his ass. In fact, I’m still ready. After getting through the danger zone, heart racing and almost to work, I was inspired to write this.

So why do I ride? That’s a great question with an ever-evolving answer.

So why do I ride? That’s a great question with an ever-evolving answer. I lost my son-in-law Chanse to an inattentive driver this year. To say I’m hyper-sensitive to this very traffic situation is an understatement. Kicking this guys ass won’t solve anything but bringing awareness to it will. I can’t predict the actions of wild animals or trained humans but I can become a better rider and more importantly a better driver. To anyone who rides just remember, we are invisible. Educate yourself through the Motorcycle Safety Foundation and check into the Motorcycle Industry Council for even more information. And gear up for every ride. Always expect the unexpected, because it’s a jungle out their whether its rural or urban, so be prepared.

Love you Chanse!