motorcycle – Page 4 – Jeff Maddox

September 21, 2015September 22, 2015

The Closer We Get

The older I get the more I find myself looking back. Memories, experiences and lessons learned are usually following me wherever I go and to recall them all I have to do is look back and there they are. But no matter how distant the memory, they truly are closer than we think. Although my childhood seems like an eternity ago, the memories of growing up are fairly clear. Friends and family are a constant reminder of who I am, and I know by the familiarity of the small town I live and grew up in, those memories are real.

But no matter how distant the memory, they truly are closer than we think.

Life’s experiences are an ongoing thing for all of us, but the lessons learned over the years are always reminding us of what or what not to do. Some of us learn a little harder than others, but we eventually learn nonetheless. Looking backwards isn’t necessary in this case as we carry these teachings with us like gold stars on the chalkboard of life. Looking back at all of my life’s experience would indicate I’m smarter now than I have ever been, but my palm slapping my forehead a dozen times a day would argue otherwise.

I also find the older I get the closer I get to the realization that you can’t live forever. I’m kind of caught in the middle of my life at my current age, and with each passing year you can’t help but think about it. I don’t feel that old, but my dad staring back at me in the mirror indicates I’m in denial. You’re only as old as you feel, right? Yeah, me too.

September 17, 2015February 13, 2016

Buying Time

The power of words. A word or two can change our very mindset when we hear them but it is the power behind those words that give them the medicine in which they are delivered. Sincerity in its most simplest form can move mountains and change attitudes but a perfectly timed sentence, delivered by a kind heart at the right moment can point someone into the right direction. We have those days when we need to hear what is usually left unspoken. To actually say what we automatically assume is a form of confession that only reinforces the bond that brings us together. We don’t say it enough – to describe how we feel to those who mean the most to us and without that it’s left to interpretation.

We get so caught up in how we feel that we lose our sensitivity to how those around us are feeling. But it is the individual who can say what needs to be said to someone who is struggling, “I understand” or “chin up” awakening the positive attitude within them and allowing their eyes to open up to see the light at the end of the tunnel – no matter how far the tunnel goes. It’s the heartfelt way in which it’s said that has the most impact when someone needs lifting up.

Focus is a good thing unless you are focusing too much on the wrong thing.

We’ve heard the words and felt the wave of change as the weight of the worry falls away. To say the problems have disappeared entirely would be unjust, but the idea of knowing we’re not alone in those dark moments says so much. I find solace in the hum of my motorcycle and a lot gets figured out when the wheels are in motion, but knowing there is someone who is willing to acknowledge they understand can put the mind at ease and change the thought process. Focus is a good thing unless you are focusing too much on the wrong thing.

My motorcycle can only do so much. It can push me down the highway buying me time to figure things out, it can drown out the noise that distracts and move me towards the end of the tunnel and into the light. Friends are the same. they can push you to understand, give you a voice of reason that will rise over the noise and lead you out of the darkness.

September 5, 2015February 13, 2016

Asking for Directions

This morning as I was backing my motorcycle out of the garage, I knew I wouldn’t be taking my normal route to work. Living in White City, work is to the north of me so I headed south out of town. Why take the long way to work? I needed a little seat time to sort things out. For all those things swirling around in my head, I find the best time for me to sort through them is riding down the road. Much like someone in a glass box trying to grab as much cash as they can as it flies around them, in this case this isn’t cash flying around me and untamed animals are ready to spring out from the ditch to ruin my day.

So off I go as my morning begins. My plan was to ride in a big circle and end up traveling east so I could see the sun come up from my bike. Apparently folks take this Labor Day Weekend business pretty seriously because I had ridden 20 miles before I passed another car on the road. I find that when I really don’t think about anything in particular the answers usually seem to come. Often the surface questions I have are of insignificance and the real questions are buried under my full head of hair, so it takes a few miles to figure it out and get to the real heart of what needs organized. Not being a typical male, I’ve never been afraid to ask for directions, and The Man upstairs is a pretty good listener.

As I settled into my morning commute my mind wandered from one subject to the next but not landing on anything specific. Just the way I like it. As the plan of riding in a big circle came to fruition, I could see the sun peaking up over the horizon just as I turned to head back east. Often the answers to even the deepest questions can be right before your eyes and all we have to do is look up. The quiet inside my helmet is a great place to hear the answers that so many times are drowned out by the constant noise and distractions of a normal day. The old adage of the not seeing the forest for the trees is so true, and even though we recognize what our eyes are seeing, we may not fully understand that a sign can be so simple.

The quiet inside my helmet is a great place to hear the answers that so many times are drowned out by the constant noise and distractions.

Once I realized I was looking at a cloud pointing in an obvious direction, I had what I was looking for. I’m not sure if I really needed a big arrow in the sky, but obviously someone thought I did. I’ll take it.

September 2, 2015February 15, 2016

Sturgis or…Bust?

I was so looking forward to the 75th Annual Sturgis Rally and at one point I wasn’t sure if this year was going to happen – read: Clarityville. Like every year, this gives me a chance to get away and spend a week riding the highways and byways of Kansas, Nebraska and South Dakota while finding interesting things along the way. As I’ve said before, Sturgis is a great place to turn around because it’s the ride I so look forward to, and although a good time is always had during the rally, weather can also play a big part in having a great trip versus a good trip. You see, there really isn’t such a thing as a bad trip to Sturgis. Well…

Planning this trip every year always starts about a week after I get back from the rally, and last year was no different. As winter rolls in you lose a little urgency and just like everything else, plans are put on the back-burner until the first break in the weather and then it all fires back up. Who’s going, who can’t go and all the other details and gossip that go along with planning for Sturgis seem to find their way into the conversation whenever there’s the false sense of Spring in air. We know the trip is happening but like a kid who can’t wait for the last day of school, it’s not getting here fast enough. I swear, we’re just like little kids sometimes.

I heard rumors and I’ve seen old grainy photos of what appears to be people going to Sturgis with dare I say, their motorcycle on a trailer. Heck, I didn’t know you could put a motorcycle on a trailer and why would you? It is a self-propelled machine capable or moving bodies and souls great distances with little more than the twist of the throttle. So this year it happened to me; in a borrowed trailer I hauled my touring bike to the rally. Gasp! A touring bike on a trailer. Where do you buy a t-shirt that says “I hauled mine?” Oh, the verbal beating I will take for this.

Gasp! A touring bike on a trailer. Where do you buy a t-shirt that says “I hauled mine to Sturgis 2015?” Oh, the verbal beating I will take for this.

Let me say this. After hitting rain across the Kansas/Nebraska border, hauling it didn’t seem so bad. After all, I’m delicate. I’ve ridden to the rally 8 years in a row with nothing to prove, and this “pulling a trailer” thing was a little foreign to me. Such things as wipers, a comfortable seat with armrests and climate control changed everything. If I didn’t know any better, I would have wondered why there were so many bikes on the road all heading in the same direction. But wait, I knew better. After a long day behind the wheel, camp was set up, the bike was unloaded and it was a quick ride into Sturgis for a bite to eat. Lot’s of people and somewhat tough to park, but not too bad. Saturday night was pretty uneventful and after all, I did have a long day driving. Can you tell I’m a little bitter about not riding this year? Yeah.

Sunday plans were to ride to Spearfish and head through the canyon to Lead and then south to Rapid City. Back up through Custer State Park into Keystone, Hill City and Deadwood, ending back up in Sturgis. A good days riding and I really hoped to get 250 miles on the bike before it got hot and crowded in the Black Hills. That was the plan… Hitting I-90 west to Spearfish my motorcycle coughed and hesitated. Hmmm. Surely a fluke, I thought to myself. Stopping in Lead about 60 miles later, the decision was made to go back to Sturgis, abandoning the plans due to heavy traffic and a bunch of folks out on the roads that probably shouldn’t have been there – at least on motorcycles. What’s a couple of close calls among friends?

After getting back into town and wandering around for a few hours it was time to head back to the campground for a siesta. Apparently pulling a trailer with your motorcycle in it can wear a fella out. Pulling up to a stop sign leading up to the main drag in and out of Sturgis, my bike died. I fired it up, got a block further and it died again. Rinse, lather, repeat for another couple of blocks and then it wouldn’t start. An innocent bystander watching the parade of bikes rolling into town from his front yard, asked if I needed a ride somewhere, and I gladly accepted. Pretty handy having a pickup and trailer just down the road in the campground isn’t it?

I know what you’re thinking. Am I glad I towed the bike to the rally? Yes, and of course no. The unpredictability of a breakdown is always there no matter where you ride. I’ve been fortunate enough to not have this happen to me on any other trip, and I guess I was probably due. The fact that I trailered this year is pure luck and as a biker, we usually have a plan B in the event of a breakdown. You do have a plan B don’t you?

So as much as I wanted to stay, it was a little difficult getting around in the pickup. With my frustration level peaking, it was only logical to leave the rally early. Two days early. Driving as far as North Platte Nebraska to spend the night, the rain convinced me that I would rather be in the cab of the truck than on a bike. What is it about rain and Nebraska? Or am I getting soft? I think I actually used the word “delicate” earlier. Wednesday, when I should have been planning on an evening at The Knuckle Saloon for the fights I was changing a blowout on the trailer which ruined the tire and wheel. A borrowed trailer at that. Thanks Russ!

All said, it was a trip to be remembered. Pictures? I took 14. Miles ridden? 80. Rain? Yes. Will there be a next year? Probably.

August 18, 2015February 13, 2016

Bench-Built Wallets

If you were to look into my top drawer of my dresser you would find some of the more personal items that I collect, such as wristwatches, pocket knives and wallets. Lately I’ve been in the market for a micro-wallet to carry in my front pocket. If you ride a motorcycle like I do, you already know the problems associated with a wallet in your back pocket. The bulge can give you the proverbial pain in the backside for any rides over an hour or so. Not that the bulge in my wallet has anything to do with the amount of cash I have folded up in it, that’s for sure. But like watches and pocket knives I can be a little picky about what I carry with me. For many years I have carried a Victorinox Swiss Army pocket knife because of the beauty and functionality it gives and after all, I am a creature of habit. The same goes for wristwatches.

While looking for a wallet, I stumbled upon a small company in Cambridge Nebraska called Bench-Built. They sell handmade wooden money clips and wallets and a military grade composite wallet that holds up to five cards and cash. What caught my attention was the colors used in the military grade wallets that pulled my gaze away from the more traditional leather wallets. The handmade wooden wallets are absolutely beautiful but as I stated before, the thickness of my wallet isn’t from all the cash. As much as I admire their handmade quality and beauty, I needed affordable. I purchased the military grade and I must say I’m impressed. Simple and functional, it fits great in my front pocket with my keys and change. My other front pocket has my lip balm and pocket knife in it, so there isn’t much room without being uncomfortable. As a biker, it isn’t unusual to get caught in a brief shower and if this gets wet in my pocket the only thing that will stay wet is the cash clipped under the magnet. Again, in my case cash doesn’t seem to be my problem.

The quality is good and it is definitely durable. Also, holding it in your hand your fingers sense the medical grade Soft Touch giving it a leather-like feel. A strong magnet to hold your cash and enough space for 5-6 of your credit cards gives you everything you need in a small package. All of this backed with their lifetime guarantee – if it breaks it will be replaced. Hard to beat for about $25. Check them out if you are looking for something a little different or wanting a unique gift idea for the motorcyclist in your life.

Bench-Built.com

Bench-Built Demo Videos

July 9, 2015July 5, 2016

Next Stop – Clarityville

I often wonder what really rolls around in this head of mine when I’m on my motorcycle. I do quite a bit of thinking behind my handlebars but to pinpoint one single thing would be difficult. My thoughts bounce around to many different things and sometimes even come back to the beginning of when the ride started. I’ve said I do my best thinking inside my helmet and this still holds true, but some days it’s hard to find clarity even on a perfect ride.

I need to get beyond the familiar 22 mile ride to work. Although this daily ride is good, it has become the source of a mental block that I’m finding hard to get around. Even an additional 10 miles added to the trip or an alternate route might suffice, but I still need to head in a different direction – maybe taking the long way to Clarityville. Fresh scenery and different smells would do my noggin some good. I’ve been to Clarityville before and its a nice place to visit on your motorcycle.

Fresh scenery and different smells would do my noggin some good. I’ve been to Clarityville before and its a nice place to visit on your motorcycle.

With Sturgis right around the corner, plans are being made. As always, I leave the “Last Minute” clause open in case I need to pull the plug. Things can change right up until the night before I leave and you have to be mentally prepared to throw in the towel and admit you’re not going. Fortunately for me, I haven’t had to exercise this clause but that’s not to say I haven’t stood there at the 11th hour (or was it 11 o’clock at night?) the night before staring at the bike loaded down patiently waiting to hit the road thinking I would have to cancel the trip. Bummer.

As it stands now, Sturgis looks like it’s a go. I need a vacation for sure, but I also need to put some miles under me and clean out some cobwebs in my head. What better way than to see some new countryside through these tired old eyes of mine?

June 8, 2015February 13, 2016

Brake Time

It’s not often I ride after dark but for the last month or so I have been riding the roads of rural Kansas just before the sun has set completely. For all of those obvious reasons that riding at this hour presents, it is kind of nice to roll down the road with my headlight bouncing of the tarmac as my eyes dance side-to-side looking for those pesky critters that also enjoy coming out at night.

Keeping my speed a little below the posted limit on one particular night, I was soon passed by a car. This isn’t a bad thing as I don’t mind a vehicle running interference for me when I’m unsure if I will be greeted by one of nature’s finest. As I followed along behind my new best friend, I allowed myself to relax a little and let myself look around at the clouds as the moonlight reflected off the edges. A beautiful night for sure, and a guy could easily get used o this.

A couple of miles later I noticed the car in front of me tap his brakes. His brake lights caught my attention and I immediately knew based on my familiarity of the road, he was braking for a deer. But this is what I find most interesting about the driver in front of me; he not only tapped his brakes, but he did so multiple times letting me know that there was not only a deer in the road but a couple more waiting to cross. All of this information came through his brake lights. I thought to myself the person driving the car in front of me is surely a biker. I too have flashed my brake lights letting those behind me know of any dangers ahead. I’m sure this isn’t uncommon, but on this given night on this particular road the driver gave me a gift. Three more deer just stepping onto the road, no big hurry and not surprised of the motorcyclist coming up on them.

I’m also known for my moves, but that is a completely different subject and besides it was the ’80’s.

Whether or not my friend in the car actually rides motorcycles or not, it’s nice to know that someone still thinks about the safety of others on the road. I had plenty of time to slow down and be prepared for any sudden moves that deer are known for. I’m also known for my moves, but that is a completely different subject and besides it was the ’80’s.

There are so many unwritten rules of the road. Some of these rules need to be written down and this is one of them. It’s the little things that can be so beneficial to the safety and well-being of others – especially motorcyclists.

March 31, 2015April 1, 2015

Work to Ride, Ride to Work

Can you hear it? Can you hear the sound of the clock ticking in the background or more accurately, in the back of your mind? I look around and I see the shadows of the day moving as the sun tells me I haven’t accomplished a thing – when the to-do list is long and rarely completed. Good intentions for sure, but they are mostly used to pave the road I’m riding my motorcycle on right now. All work and no play? Not so much.

Good intentions for sure, but they are mostly used to pave the road I’m riding my motorcycle on right now. All work and no play? Not so much.

It’s possible to have a balanced life with equal parts work and play. Downtime is important but for whatever reason there is always something to do and it needs to get done. I’m looking around but I don’t see any volunteers and the way I see it mopping the floor is my reward for going riding today. Yippee!

I don’t have to ability to spend my days behind the windshield of my motorcycle looking for the perfect road or taking a month off to find myself – I think I already know where I’m at. Real life gets in the way of many things, but does it really? Real life is just that and it includes dirty dishes and a lawn that needs cutting, and I’m completely fine with that. The “ride to live, live to ride” mantra is true but for me its more like “work to ride, ride to work.”

Every day when that urge to ride is stronger than the desire to do laundry, I realize that I’m fortunate enough to ride to work on a regular basis. Not everyone is that lucky, but for me it controls that craving to ride when the voice inside my head is telling me that my jeans will wash themselves. It’s tough being a responsible adult when all I want to do is chase a sunset or see if I can actually see the curve of the earth from some random hilltop. It isn’t always about the road, but more of our surroundings. I don’t have to be rolling down the highway on my bike to appreciate the scenery. Once in a while its okay to pull over, shut the engine off and take it all in. Hey, you need to check your cell phone anyway, right?

Find your balance. Find a way to get your chores done AND ride your motorcycle. It’s not only possible, but necessary too. Work to ride, ride to work. Kinda has a ring to it.

March 21, 2015February 13, 2016

Beyond a Tank of Gas

Officially I’m not old. Let’s get this out there right now. Although what little hair I have is quite gray, I’m really not that old. So why do I ride an “old man’s” bike? Well it has so much more to do with being wiser, not older. You see when you ride a lot of miles, you quickly find out it’s not about looking cool but rather feeling comfortable.

There surely was a time when cool was important to me. In fact cool was only something a weird guy like me could hope to be at some point in my life. I know I wowed friends with my sense of humor, but at no time did I hear anyone say to me “you’re cool.” Funny yes, but never cool. But I digress.

Why is the bike I ride considered an old man’s bike anyway? Big seat, cruise control, stereo, CB radio, plenty of wind protection (to keep my flowing locks free from tangles) and storage – lots of storage. Oh, and a trailer hitch. Now I know what you’re thinking; a young man wouldn’t need these things. He would set off on a ride with little or no suspension, a flannel shirt, Chuck Taylors on his feet, and his Ray Bans acting as his windshield. Trust me, he isn’t riding far. Oh, I know he’s cool and the envy of some, but that’s only cool for a tank of gas or so. I’ve seen everything within a tank of gas from where I live. In fact you have to pass the same old scenery just to get anywhere. It’s beyond the 5 gallons of gas or so that I long for. Hell, I would rather be 5 tanks of gas away from anywhere on my motorcycle.

It’s beyond the 5 gallons of gas or so that I long for.

It takes at least a couple of fill-ups to see the unfamiliar landscape we desire and for those of us “old bastards” who like to travel on our motorcycles, we’re just getting warmed up. I’m not trying to take away anything from being young and adventurous. Living on a shoestring, willing to sacrifice your comfort for the sake of it all and to set off completely unprepared for whatever mother nature throws at you is a choice, and who am I to argue? Just because I can’t leave the house without lip balm might tell you something about me. I was young once and that’s all I’m going to say about that. With youth comes learning and with age comes learned. I’ve learned the hard way to not set off on a ride without a pair of gloves if there is any chance the temperature could drop along the way. And I’ve learned my ass needs a soft seat for any ride longer than 20 minutes.

So I don’t want to hear my motorcycle referred to as an “old man’s” bike anymore. It is more of a “dues paid” motorcycle.

February 11, 2015February 13, 2016

The Choices We Didn’t Make

This morning as I stood upon the steps trying to decide on whether or not to ride my motorcycle to work on this cold, cloudy and windy day, the only thing I could think about was my weatherman Collin missing the mark the two previous days. Not that he was that far off, but it surely wasn’t in my favor. So today I decided to not ride because of it. I thought to myself “I’ll teach him.”

So my drive in was one of deep thought. Just like on my motorcycle, I spend a good portion just thinking about stuff that I don’t get a chance to think about otherwise. This decision on whether or not to ride is something that comes up a lot during the fall and winter months so it really isn’t that surprising. But this morning it occurred to me that I spent so much time trying to decide on something so trivial. Is riding that important to me? It is, but why make such a big deal about whether I’m going to or not? There are way more important life decisions and choices to make that all of a sudden this seemed insignificant. So what’s the problem?

Looking back over a lifetime there are many choices and decisions we make that can literally change the course of who we are and what we do. Fundamentally we are going to be the person we truly are, but I think you know what I mean. Some of the great mysteries of life are a direct result of decisions and choices we didn’t make.

“Some of the great mysteries in life are a direct result of decisions and choices we didn’t make.”

I’ve been riding motorcycles enough to know that the decision to ride or not affects my whole day. It is who I am and what I do so when I don’t ride I’m usually kicking myself for whatever reason. That little voice in my head says many things through the course of a day and when he’s right I can’t argue. You do hear those voices too, don’t you?

I’m not trying to trivialize the choices we make here. But we are faced with big and small decisions every day and depending on the outcome of those decisions it can alter how our day goes. Put it on a larger scale and we’ve all made life decisions that resulted in where we are standing today. Call it fate, chance or destiny – even luck, but life is full of choices. I know I’ve made several calls to not ride when I should have and vice-versa, but in the end it didn’t do any more than irritate me.

I often think about the road that led me to where I am today. I think about those crossroads where a choice was made and things changed, and how it would be different if that life intersection had been just a mile or two further down the road. I think about those future crossroads that I’ve yet to meet and how nobody knows how it will really turn out. That’s the beauty of it – and that’s where those great mysteries of life come from.