motorcycle – Page 6 – Jeff Maddox

December 1, 2014June 22, 2015

Terms and Conditions

We accept certain things when throwing a leg over our motorcycle. Just as we pull out on the road, we’ve signed a contract agreeing with the terms and conditions of our surroundings. We know that this sport of ours can be dangerous. Through our best efforts to enjoy the ride, there is always that chance – as slight as it may be – that something will happen. There are just too many cars, critters and construction (or lack thereof) to not have a close call or two. Or three. But we knew that before we started, didn’t we? What do you mean, you didn’t read the fine print?

Traffic varies depending on your geographical location. Let’s surmise that vehicle population is just average everywhere we go. Average would indicate a constant flow of pesky cars and trucks moving along at a steady pace, drivers checking mirrors and a lunch bag in the back seat. Hands at 10 and 2, the radio quietly playing elevator music through the speakers and cell phones left appropriately in the glove box. I think I just passed the sign that said “Welcome to Perfect World, population 0.” We bikers know that the defensive drivers course was meant for us. It states at the bottom of our Road Trip Contract to “Ride like nobody sees you. Press hard, there are 4 copies.

The weather, on the other hand, is somewhat predictable. At least from a short-range forecast we can see what’s going on in and around us. We prepare for those conditions either by taking the proper gear, or we stay home. Can you really prepare for something by not doing anything? I guess staying indoors is preparation. But the weather can change just as fast as that fast-moving Chevy cut you off, but we knew that was going to happen. It said so on page 3, paragraph 2 of the contract: “Under no certain terms will it be assumed you have the road to yourself. Furthermore, You WILL NOT have control of the weather nor the actions of those who drive vehicles with more than three wheels.”

Another obstacle we encounter are those four-legged friends that just don’t know any better. Or do they? Most are just trying to live out their lives in peace foraging among the fence-lines and babbling brooks. It’s all good until they see the greener grass on the other side of the road, then all bets are off. They will run, leap or fly across the road within inches of you, when quite frankly they’ve had all day to make their move. Why now and why me? Didn’t you see the deer crossing sign? I was prepared for you to cross there…

I know what you’re thinking; I signed up for this and that’s why I ride and I accept the risk, because the good outweighs the bad. And it does. Fortunately for us, it hasn’t come down to signing on the bottom line just to get your bike out of the garage. We already know the hazards of riding and we go about our day somehow finding the enjoyment in it despite it all. We didn’t need to read the fine print to know that.

November 30, 2014October 2, 2015

Rubberneckers

It’s human nature for sure. When we see something out-of-the-ordinary, we turn our heads to see what happened or to watch whatever is happening to unfold. Like the proverbial train-wreck. We. Just. Can’t. Look. Away.

We motorcyclist are rubberneckers. We ride as if our head is on a swivel anyway, and because of that we see a lot of extraordinary things in the process. It’s almost as if we’re asking for it. Well, we are. In this particular case, I stopped to watch the fire off in the distance unfold. It’s not every day you have the opportunity – those few magical minutes – to rubberneck the sun coming up over the horizon. It’s all about timing.

But more importantly it’s about taking the time to stop, pause, and to not only see it but to feel it. To recognize the collision of your path and the extraordinary as it happens is key. When it happens, it happens quick. There are no rules here such as documenting it in a picture but it’s only here for those who are lucky enough to take it in. If you’re able to capture it, that’s okay too. It makes a great home-screen.

But please remember, rubbernecking beauty – good. Rubbernecking misfortune – bad. But you already knew that.

When you find yourself rolling down the highway looking at your surroundings and you see that rubberneck-worthy moment, take it in. But please remember, rubbernecking beauty – good. Rubbernecking misfortune – bad. But you already knew that.

Life is truly made up of extraordinary moments strung together by ability to put ourselves in the middle of it. To see, feel and appreciate our surroundings requires a bit of rubbernecking. Without taking it in, we risk passing it by.

November 26, 2014November 27, 2014

Motorcycle House – Geared to Serve

If I can say one thing about riding motorcycles is that we are always looking for parts and accessories; not only for our bikes but for us as well. Between jackets and rain suits, helmets and gloves (for both winter and summer), we look for luggage, saddlebags, tires and all those things we need, want and can’t live without.

It really gives you the impression that our motorcycle is actually the least expensive piece to the puzzle and our bike is just the beginning to that long relationship with everything else that goes with it. Do we really want to add up all the money we’ve spent on gear and accessories? Not me.

Considering what we spend, all I know is if I can save a few bucks and still get the quality I expect and deserve, I’ll be happy. Riding bikes makes me happy. So does saving money.

I was contacted by Motorcycle House to do a few reviews on some products that we enthusiasts use every day. You know the kind; real world, from one biker to another, ride it like you own it kind of stuff. They also carry parts and accessories for UTV’s, ATV’s, dirt bikes and snowmobiles – but it’s motorcycles for me. For those of you who follow my blog, you know I ride year-round out here in the Midwest, and I put a lot of miles on my motorcycle. I also expect a lot from the gear I use and I want to make sure my money goes a long way. I’m looking forward to trying out items that we are all interested in, and Motorcycle House is willing to provide some of them for me. So stay tuned, and in the mean time check them out on social media and give them a follow!

Motorcycle House on Facebook

Twitter

Motorcycle House on youtube

And Instagram

November 20, 2014

The Hands of Time and Leather

There was a time when things were handmade and built to last, and when you held quality in your hand and you could feel it. We’ve strayed far from quality and caring to somehow accepting a short life expectancy from what we purchase – so much for passing it on to our kids.

As a kid growing up I was fascinated by my fathers watch. Something he wore daily, and that rare moment when he was standing still, I would look it over. It wasn’t anything special, but I remember looking at it and thinking how old it seemed even then. It was worn and hard to read but the best way to describe it is to say that this watch my father so dutifully wore was standing the test of time. It must have been a faithful watch, keeping the best of time or my dad wouldn’t have worn it. To this day, I still catch myself looking at my fathers watch.

What once was a land of handmade, no-two-the-same, can’t buy it just anywhere products – we’ve digressed into a mass-produced, everyone has it environment. But it’s not the artisans fault. What’s the old saying? Oh yeah, something about you get what you pay for. The hands that crafted have grown tired and retired and have been replaced with machines that have no creativity, no pride or heart.

So it was March of 2012 when I received an email from Stephen Berner. He was contacting me to write a blog for his website, and after checking it out, I wasn’t sure what I was writing was good enough. I was completely blown away by Steve’s angle on the American V-twin lifestyle and all that surrounds it, and me being a small town guy who can’t seem to get out of said small town, had doubts on my abilities. But he believed in me and there was nothing to say but “yes, I’ll do it.”

I’ve learned a lot from Steve. Without knowing, he pushed me to be more creative. He gave me an opportunity to think beyond the city limits I’ve grown comfortable with and to try harder, think harder, and look at things from a different angle. And for that I owe him a “thank you.”

Steve has a thing about closed and long-abandoned factories where men and women not only built these factories but everything that came out of them. They took pride in what they manufactured and it showed on their dusty clothes, dirty faces and callused hands. A symbol of America that is slowly being forgotten and left to die one brick at a time. The hopes and dreams of these workers forgotten when they were carried out the front door in their lunch pails for the last time.

Steve has taken his passion and his love for quality, hand-made-in-America, to crafting it into leather. With the effort of those who have paid their dues and rightfully passing on their skills and knowledge to someone who cares enough to carry on a tradition, Steve has taken it upon himself to produce what he so believes in. Beauty. Quality. Handmade.

You can’t rush this kind of work and mistakes can’t be covered. Do it right or don’t do it at all, I say. And what’s that old saying again? Right. Get what you pay for. To pick up the tools of a trade that has almost been forgotten is admirable. Not everyone can do it, and sadly so few even want to. It can’t be easy, as it requires creativity, patience, a steady hand and the ability to see the end result before you’ve picked up a tool. Slow and deliberate, but worth it.

I suggest you check out Steve’s goods and see for yourself. Support those who take the time to do it right, right here at home, and carry with you something that will only get better with age.

SteveB Leatherworks Facebook

SteveB Instagram

Etsy

November 5, 2014September 11, 2015

Stop & Go International

Wow. That’s the only thing that came to mind when I got my mail today. Wow. Today I received my Stop & Go Tubeless Puncture Pilot Kit and I will say that just holding the rugged zippered case in my hand I could feel it was something of value. You know that feeling; when you put your hands on something it just feels “right.” Kind of like putting your head in a high quality helmet – you can feel the difference. Not cheap, not throw-away but something you can count on and that will stand the test of time.

Not only is this something to carry with you in the event you have a flat, but just think of the help you can give to someone who might be caught in the same predicament. To help yourself or a fellow biker get back on the road by your own means is something that can make us all feel good.

As I opened the case I see my assumptions were correct. This kit is really nice. For those of us who travel by motorcycle, or in many cases ride far enough away from the conveniences of a repair shop to count on for their immediate help, this puncture repair kit is invaluable. The quality of the tools and the thought put into what you will actually need in the event of a flat tire amazes me. Not only is this something to carry with you in the event you have a flat, but just think of the help you can give to someone who might be caught in the same predicament. To help yourself or a fellow biker get back on the road by your own means is something that can make us all feel good.

Bill and his team at Stop & Go International have it figured out. They understand we bikers are a special bunch and we expect a lot from our gear and equipment. If you can provide a solution to a problem (a problem we only hope we will never experience) and do it with great customer service and providing a quality product, the rest will speak for itself. I encourage everyone who rides to look into the Stop & Go Tubeless Puncture Pilot Kit. I like to compare this kit with all the gear we bikers wear when we ride. We wear our gear for what “might” happen with the hope it never happens. If you’re like me, you ride to forget about everything and breakdowns are the furthest thing on my mind. We don’t focus on it and we often assume we will deal with it, if or when it happens. Be prepared for what might happen, and who knows, you might just be a hero to someone down the road that needs the help. Check them out on Twitter and Facebook!

Bill, thank you for all you do!

StopnGo International

Follow StopnGo on Twitter

Follow StopnGo on Facebook

October 20, 2014November 17, 2014

Expect the Unexpected

Okay, call me gun-shy. A few days ago I had a close encounter with a doe standing on the road in the exact same spot where a previous close encounter happened almost a year ago to the day. Two close encounters in the same spot with a deer a year apart. Who would have thunk it? The first was “Motorcycle Crossing” and the second was “A Second Either Way” if you’re curious.

Well, on this particularly foggy morning commute on my motorcycle, I was understandably cautious. Typically, when riding in fog your windshield and face shield will fog up as well. This morning was no different as my windshield was completely fogged over and the face shield on my Torc helmet was lifted to better see. It’s one thing as a rider to be on the lookout for anything that might stop my forward progress, but it’s also important to see and be seen.

So I set out on my journey in hopes of getting to work unscathed. The fog wasn’t too bad at first but I knew going into Skiddy, which falls into a valley, it would become worse. As I started my decent I saw a skunk scooting across the road and a second later realized his defense mechanism was in perfect working order. He must have seen me coming. Feeling good about being cautious, I’m only about an 1/8 of a mile from the curve that is a known deer hangout. As I enter the curve I see a deer standing in the ditch by the trees. Not again! It’s silhouette poised to leap in my direction, I maintained my nerves of steel and continued into the face of danger. As I rounded the curve, fully prepared for what may come, I realized the deer was nothing more than a combination of tree branches and bushes in the shape of a deer and that either the deer or the fog were playing tricks on me. Relieved, I turned the throttle and rode on. But now my eyes are seeing things in the fog that may or may not be there.

As I left Skiddy I’m sure I saw Popeye standing on the side of the road. I can’t be sure, but it sure looked like him. Further down the road I saw a herd of buffalo standing by the fence, but they were pretending to be cattle. I’m not crazy, I saw buffalo. It’s kind of like looking at the clouds and seeing shapes of animals and characters. The only difference here? If I see Snoopy in the clouds he isn’t going to jump out of the ditch in front of me.

October 13, 2014October 13, 2014

My Little Piece of Asphalt

As I sit here looking out the window at the rain falling, I have to ask myself why I didn’t ride to work today. I won’t melt, right? Although the high temperature today will be around 50 degrees, the rain just makes you feel colder. But as I’ve said before, I ride motorcycles so why not today? After all, I have all the gear I need for days just like this.

I believe riding bikes differs from driving a car in one particular way; There is a certain amount of mental preparedness that goes into riding a motorcycle. Some days we can’t wait to ride, other days we just do it without thinking as it comes natural, and then there are days when we have to “feel” it. Today, I didn’t feel it. Mentally I wasn’t prepared to get suited up and ride in.

One obvious downside to riding on a day like today is your bike gets filthy. Not just dirty, but the kind of grime that takes hours to clean. I’m okay with that and it usually doesn’t bother me knowing I’ll have some time invested in getting the bike back to its shiny self.

It comes back to just not feeling like I should be out there amongst the traffic, fighting for my little piece of asphalt in a world full of pavement-hogs. Did I make the right decision? Yes. Do I wish after getting to work I would have ridden? Yes. Tomorrow is a new day and I’m promised by the local weatherman it will be sunny. I’m holding him to it.

Some of my best and most memorable rides have been in the rain. Warm rains and even some that weren’t so warm have followed me to my destination. I don’t know what it is about riding down the highway in the rain, looking at the motorists looking at me like I’m crazy, dry (mostly) and comfortable with little concern about the weather at all. We spend a lot of time avoiding the rain whether we’re just walking outside or planning for a ride that maybe we should just relax and enjoy it. After all it’s only water and we won’t melt – or so I’m told.

Riding in the rain isn’t for everyone and especially in the fall when the temperature can change things up. For a guy who didn’t ride in today, just listen to me. I should have taken my own advice and put my rain gear on and sucked it up. I ride motorcycles, remember?

October 9, 2014September 8, 2015

My Middle Name

How many times can you ride your motorcycle around in circles? Is “countless” a number? The summer of 1974 found me tucked in behind the handle bars of my Harley-Davidson X90, turning laps in the field by my house. No kidding, a stars and stripes helmet with a blue bubble face-shield protecting my dashing good looks and my bell bottom blue jeans and tennis shoes completing the ensemble. Mert Lawwill, you have nothing on me! All I wanted to do was race the Springfield Mile and at 12 years old it surely seemed possible.

When you’re a kid anything seems possible. Somewhere along the line as we got older we found it’s not as easy as it looks, and reality called and said we needed to get a job and stop riding in circles. I eventually raced a little, but not dirt track and definitely not at the professional level, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to. I think it’s more about timing and location rather than about desire. The desire has always been burning inside me, and even today I think I could go out and do whatever it is I want to do, dirt track included. Sure, I may hurt myself in the process, but that’s called danger, and when we were young, that was our middle name. For some reason my mother told me mine was Lamont.

Sure, I may hurt myself in the process, but that’s called danger, and when we were young, that was our middle name. For some reason my mother told me mine was Lamont.

Those days of practicing and honing my riding skills came with a cost. Many blisters, a few broken bones and a host of scrapes was just another day of living the dream in becoming the top of the field (or at least the field by my house) in motorcycle racing. Many times, after planting myself into the ground from riding over my head, I would lie there in the dirt listening to the engine screaming as the throttle was stuck open. Dusty, dazed and confused and fully convinced bones were broken and afraid to move, I wondered how long an engine would run like that. A second later, after diagnosing myself, I would hop back to my feet and run over to shut it down. Checking the mechanical condition of my bike, away I would ride only to repeat the process. Nobody said it would be easy and I was having so much fun, why would I stop? How else would I get any better? Nowadays, I would probably lay there and let the motor blow.

Looking back over the years I have come to realize that anything is possible. It’s never too late and it’s all about doing what you love. Maybe those times while laying face down in the dirt after coming up short on a jump, throttle stuck wide open on my bike with the engine singing at the top of its lungs, it was trying to tell me something; Live your life wide open. Love with all your heart and chase after your dream because one day you just might catch it. Oh, and don’t get up, your leg is broken.

September 22, 2014October 3, 2015

Uphill Both Ways

When we were young we were told not to cross the road. Curiosity is a dangerous thing and sometimes temptation can get the best of us. Sometimes we listen and other times well, we don’t.

Soon enough we get permission to get on it and it becomes the beginning of a wild ride. Fast, late nights, friends and new places. A world opens up and we will never be the same. Ever. We push the boundaries of those limits imposed upon us and we find just how far we can go. And we go. Chasing girls and jobs and the future we think we want and it’s all there in front of us. We can see it just beyond the hood ornament on the car pulling us into our future further than what we’re ready for. Too young to know the difference we continue; we can always ask questions later.

The highway becomes such a big part of our lives. It’s takes us to places to celebrate the birth of new life and the end of someone else’s. It gives us a path to our daily grind but doubles as our escape route from it as well. It is our scenic byway and our road from hell and it can be all in the direction you’re traveling. Young and full of ourselves or old and tired of it all, we roll down the road not knowing where it will end. This is the road we’ve chosen and it’s ours. Paved or unpaved, uphill both ways or rocky, put it in drive and floor it. Why not and what are you waiting for?

Young and full of ourselves or old and tired of it all, we roll down the road not knowing where it will end. This is the road we’ve chosen and it’s ours

We spend a good portion of our lives looking down the roads we travel. Whether we’re running late or on sabbatical determines how our eyes perceive the road ahead. We all need some down time. You know the kind – the freedom to let our mind and body wander. The absence of a focal point, a desk free of clutter and a mind wide open to whatever. This is why I ride a motorcycle. It’s rare to see someone on a motorcycle distracted by anything other than 3000 pound, four wheel moving objects and an occasional furry friend. Take those out of the equation with a cell phone conveniently turned off and what more could you ask for? Warm, dry weather and a full tank of gas doesn’t hurt either.

Well-worn highways and beat down back roads. If you were to take one or the other, which would it be? It doesn’t really matter as long as the direction you’re going will get you to where you want to go. We all have a reason to be on the road. We share it with people just like us, looking to get to work or chasing a dream. And if it’s a hood ornament or a headlight you look over as you stare down the highway just remember that day long ago when you hit the road for the first time, and the freedom you felt. The windows down or wind in your face isn’t something you forget, in fact it’s something we desire. Just put it in gear and go.

September 4, 2014

Peak Performance

This past Labor Day weekend I traveled to Colorado Springs to see my daughter Kelly, her husband Chanse and my grandkids Kylie and Casen. A quick trip indeed riding my latest bike, a ’06 Ultra Classic. Leaving Saturday after work puts me in Colorado Springs around 8:30 pm mountain time and can make for a long day. But as riding to Colorado goes, longer is better, right?

After a short visit on Saturday night I was eager to get some rest as Chanse had planned a ride to the top of Pike’s Peak Sunday morning before the rest of the house woke up. Pike’s Peak? I’m in. I will tell you from a Kansas boy’s perspective that a little bit of altitude can make me feel a lot light-headed. The highest point around where I live is Blythe’s hill. The first day of visiting with the kids is always an adjustment, but after that I’m good. Unless you’re expecting me to run, walk or climb a bunch of stairs. We head out on our bikes for the 20 minute ride there, and of course, the excitement is building. You can’t help but look at the front range as you’re rolling through town and again for a Kansas boy, well, I think you know.

We stop for gas just before the entrance and I have to admit I wasn’t sure what to expect. Temperature was in the high 50’s so after gassing up I put my gloves on. I already had my leather jacket on so let’s do this! After Chanse paid the way into the park he let me lead. It’s still pretty early in the morning and the shadows were making cornering difficult. Those decreasing radius corners wreak havoc on a guy riding a big bike on an unfamiliar road. I know they race up this mountain every year for the Pike’s Peak International Hill Climb and right now I’m in last place. 19 miles and counting.

We soon fall into a rhythm and I start to relax. That’s the key to this – relax. With very little traffic I feel we’re making decent time and I will say the view is spectacular. As we approach the tree line where the terrain begins to change to moon-like, things become different. The temperature is dropping, the air is thinning like the hair on my head and the road is becoming more difficult. Speed isn’t a real factor, but momentum is. Slow is good as long as you’re not going too slow. At this point it’s obvious I’m not dressed warm enough and the sign I just passed indicated I still had a few miles to go. Up that is. It’s becoming windy and I later find out the gusts are up to 50 mph. Like a punch to my face, the wind hits me every so often and I can’t breathe. I look in my mirrors to see if Chanse is still back there in hopes that I would have to turn around and go back looking for him. Chanse is still there, and I think he let me lead so he wouldn’t have to go back for me.

The last 2 miles were difficult for me. Old and out of shape doesn’t help and neither does a lack of oxygen. We get to the top and park the bikes, climb off and look around. Fun Fact – it took us about 45 minutes to reach the top and the winner of this year’s Pike’s Peak Hill Climb was one of only three people to do it in less than 10 minutes. To the winner, speed is a factor. To me? Oxygen. We are both freezing as the wind chill is hovering at 30 degrees or so and we seek shelter in the gift shop. Closed. It doesn’t open for another 10 minutes and shelter from the wind is found on the side of the building. Finally the doors open in what seemed to be an hour later and we find the restroom to warm our hands under the hand dryers. I ask Chanse why people are wandering around here with shorts and light jackets on and he tells me they hiked up Pike’s Peak. On foot? “Yes” he says. I asked him what day would you have to leave to get here before us and he tells me at day break. I’m winded and I rode up the mountain. They hiked and look great!

I could hear the voices in my head saying we will have to go back outside and ride back down even though my body was telling me to have a seat and stay awhile. At 14,110 feet they really need to pump oxygen into the gift shop. My head is now pounding and Chanse has his butter pecan fudge he bought for Kelly and we are ready to go. We start to take a picture by the sign at the summit for proof of this adventure and a gentleman walks over and volunteers to take it for us. Chanse reciprocates for him and as far as I’m concerned we can’t get down to 5000 feet soon enough. Oh, and as I said the view is spectacular.

Chanse leads the way and immediately I feel better. Slow and sure we work our way down as the traffic is coming up. A real advantage of getting there early. I’m finally able to look around and take it all in. This is really a great experience and it’s something everyone should do at least once in their lifetime. Coincidently, there were only a couple of times I thought I was going to die. I didn’t of course, but what makes a story more interesting than having a close call? This was a great ride to share with my son-in-law Chanse. Epic for sure and I would do it all over again. Thanks Chanse, for a great day!