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Ride50at50 Part 1: Packing Light

Sydney Christmas

Sometimes you have to just jump right in and do it. When I think of planning a birthday party I usually think of finding a restaurant and having myself a nice meal with family and friends, opening a few humorous birthday cards or a gag gift or two. If I were to set some birthday goals, I would probably think of taking the day off and do something for myself. I know when I turned 50 years old there was little more than a reminder given to me that my father’s birthday was coming up in two days. Oh, and the 4th of July falls in between the two of ours. Who could forget that?

Somewhere within social media I stumbled upon Dave Berman and his life-long friends Adrian and Andy, who are planning a celebratory birthday trip to the United States from their homes in the United Kingdom to ride highway 50 in the U.S. for their 50th birthdays. An epic journey in another country riding Indian motorcycles picked from the fleet at Eaglerider Motorcycle and Tours in Washington D.C. sounds pretty good to me. Hell, even the plane ride to get here and back would be a pretty special birthday present, but they are taking it a step further. Air travel is fine, but the real meat and potatoes is hopping on motorcycles and immersing themselves into this landscape we call America. What better way to see this country than from the seat of an iconic brand and mingling with the locals every chance you get? I can’t think of any better way. And mingling is one of my favorite things to do.

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Now I’ve taken a week-long ride on my motorcycle before and I know the importance of packing light. Along with the daily necessities and toiletries you must also carry a wide range of gear to counter inclement weather should you run into it. I also prefer to save a small portion of storage for anything else you find along the way that you just can’t live without. We bikers are Master Packers.

We are just a few weeks away from the beginning of the 3 Amigo’s trip. I’m to meet up with this band of birthday brothers around the 8th of May in Kansas City to ride along to Council Grove Kansas where they hope to spend the night. After all, I’m somewhat of a local. The next day, with their permission, I will tag along for a few miles and re-acquaint myself with western Kansas. I know this trip will be a memorable one for you guys and I appreciate you letting me be a small part of it . Who am I kidding? Hold on tight, it’s going to be quite a ride.

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The Guy on the Motorcycle

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I’m just the guy on the motorcycle. You may not be able to tell if I’m a man or a woman, young or old or even how long I’ve been riding, but I’m a motorcyclist nonetheless. Maybe you’ve seen me, maybe not. But I see you. I’m on my way to work just like everyone else, or maybe I’m taking a long weekend ride. We’re a lot alike you and me, but I just choose to travel by two-wheels instead of four. You decided to drive your car today instead of riding your motorcycle. Hey, I’ve done that too. Sometimes the day requires more than my motorcycle can handle. Sometimes you see me and wish you had a motorcycle. You should get one because I know it will change your life, and how you drive that car of yours. Maybe you have an opinion of who I am inside this helmet I’m wearing but I want you to know that not all of us our outlaws. In fact, I waved at you this morning but you didn’t wave back. Maybe you just didn’t see me.

I know you wonder from the comfort of your car how I can ride when it’s cold or raining. You see, that’s how much I want to ride. I know it seems crazy to someone who doesn’t ride a motorcycle, but I have the proper gear to protect me from the elements. When we ride, we are exposed to all kinds of weather and this is all a part of the experience. You could say I’m vulnerable to the weather as it changes. I would say I’m vulnerable to anything outside of my leather jacket.

You could say I’m vulnerable to the weather as it changes. I would say I’m vulnerable, period.

When did you first notice me? Was it the sound my motorcycle makes? My headlight and bright-colored jacket? Or was it after you pulled out halfway into the intersection before slamming on your brakes? I kind of wondered if you were going to stop. Maybe you’re running late, and that’s okay. I run late all the time too. We both have places we need to be with families and jobs that require us to get the most out of our day. It’s okay, and I waved at you anyway.

Think about motorcycles as people – actual people – sharing the road with you and how vulnerable I feel when riding amongst cars and trucks.

Can I ask a favor? Take a second to look and listen for me. Think about motorcycles as people – actual people – sharing the road with you and how vulnerable I feel when riding amongst cars and trucks. I know you’re frustrated with the road construction and the light that won’t turn green quick enough because I am frustrated with it too. And when you do see me, wave at me. And not just because it’s nice to say “hello” but it also tells me that you know I’m here.

 

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Grey Matter

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If only it was as simple as black and white. The grey area that resides in the between black and white can put our grey matter to the test each and every day. Maybe when growing up, my life was more black and white because the Polaroid’s and television sets hadn’t received the color treatment yet. Like some old photograph of the family as we were loading up the car to leave Grandpa Todd’s house in Benkelman Nebraska to head home, we were oblivious to whether we lived in color. But I do think our whites were whiter.

 Like some old photograph of the family as we were loading up the car to leave Grandpa Todd’s house in Benkelman Nebraska to head home, we were oblivious to whether we lived in color. But I do think our whites were whiter.

It goes without fail, as technology grabs us by the short hair we quickly end up expecting more. Once electric windows in our cars replaced the awful, exhausting and primitive way of manually cranking them up and down, we then decided AM radio wasn’t good enough. Don’t get me started on vinyl seats. I’ve never felt so alive when climbing in a hot car and letting the vinyl covered bench seat scald me. The familiar pattern of sweat on our backs during the summer would act as a primitive form of air conditioning once we exited the car. This my friends, was the birth of A/C in our automobiles.

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There is a certain innocence to black and white. It takes the eye away from the pretty colors and lets us focus on what is truly being photographed. What better way to see me in my natural habitat than in monochrome. You are less distracted by the green in the grass or my dark blue jeans. Although my hair now is about as gray as the picture showed it to be then.

 

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Scout’s Honor

Old dogs. There is something to love about an old dog who asks nothing from you other than to be a part of your life. Scout is a part of my life. He’s about 14 years old, and I’ve had him since he was a pup. In fact, one of his first duties was to ride shotgun with me while I tinted windows on the weekends. He became somewhat of a local celebrity with many of the referral customers because when I showed up with Scout they would tell me I was recommended by a friend who told them I would arrive in a Jeep Wrangler with a miniature Australian Shepherd. He loves to go and he doesn’t care where.

He is the kind of dog you can only hope to have. As a puppy he would fetch a ball or Frisbee without any coaxing. He not only had fun growing up but he is also a working dog. Put a bandana on his neck and he knows it’s time to go. I never worried about leaving him in the Jeep during the summer, even with the top off as he wouldn’t run away. I could tell him to stay and he would. If we both got out of the Jeep he would walk just slightly ahead of me, but always seemed to know where I was going. A leash? Not at all. Folks would freak out when we got out at Broadway and Crawford at my friend Mike’s car lot on a Saturday thinking Scout would take off into traffic at the busy intersection. But he was more interested in seeing who was inside the building. After all, it was time to go to work.

Anytime I go through a drive-thru, Scout will always get the attention he deserves. All I can say is he can be a little picky when they send a dog bone his way. I’m really not sure where he gets that from. He is also a good judge of character, and I trust him when it comes to this. When he’s not sure of someone, he sits at my feet but usually he will be there to greet someone he’s never met.

Scout loves to stop and see my folks. He knows my dad will scratch him in all the right places and that my mother has a bag of treats hidden in the storage compartment of her foot stool. She a softy and he’s not afraid to capitalize on it. The funny thing is, as picky as he can be, no matter what my mother gives him he will take it. He knows it’s the right thing to do and how happy it makes her.

He’s listened to Journey’s Greatest Hits more than he probably cares to and I’m sure when he’s sleeping he’s humming a few bars of ‘Don’t stop believing’ in his dreams.

He’s a good dog. No wait – a great dog. And as his hearing has faded to the point where I can get home on my motorcycle and he sleeps right through it, he is always happy to see me. That’s the worst part of riding my bike, that he doesn’t get to go along. Believe me, I’ve thought about getting the pet carrier to take him, but that’s just not his style. Nobody puts baby in the corner, if you know what I mean…He sits up front with me.

As he and I are both getting older, he knows I can’t throw the ball as far as I used to and he doesn’t want to run as fast as he did before. But that’s okay. I also know that Scout has made my life better just by being in it. He’s listened to Journey’s Greatest Hits more than he probably cares to and I’m sure when he’s sleeping he’s humming a few bars of ‘Don’t stop believing’ in his dreams. I can only hope that I’ve made his life as enjoyable as he’s made mine.

 

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Lost in Place

20160317_182756_HDR[1]It’s easy getting lost in this big ‘ol world. Maybe not as easy as it used to be, but not that difficult either. There was a time when just packing up the furniture and moving without leaving a change of address would confuse a whole lot of folks, and if we didn’t have the telephone that hangs in the kitchen connecting us to the outside world, those same folks would drive over to see if you were okay. When did so many people care to know where I am? Nowadays, if your battery goes dead in your cell phone we feel like George Clooney in the movie Gravity as we float off into space with both the earth and Sandra Bullock fading away. The whole lot of us are lost in space for sure.

As a motorcyclist, we actually try to get lost when we ride. We look for those old blue highways to take us someplace – any place – that we’ve never been. But unless we are willing to dedicate a few days of riding to get outside of the circle of scenery we call our stomping grounds, we might as well accept the fact we’re going to be spotted by someone we know. Lost? Hardly.

We all need to let our minds wonder as we wander down these old blue highways.

But those old blue highways can always give us the opportunity to disconnect from the world we are so connected to. Even though I’ll never make it to the edge of space on my bike, by just throwing my cell phone in the saddle bag away from view and vacant from that pocket where vibrations are felt, I can disconnect my mind for a few minutes. We all need to let our minds wonder as we wander without feeling like we’re being followed.

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So until I find the time to break out of the box I call my daily routine, I’ll find ways to get lost in place. Look! Someone is sending smoke signals up to find out where I am.

 

 

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The Calm Before the Morn’

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For this split-second, this sliver of my life, I am standing here in the right place at the right time.

Who wouldn’t like to see this every morning? It can be easy to be preoccupied enough to let a moment like this slip away, but I just can’t do that. With the constant hurry and this wierd feeling I need to be somewhere lingering over me, I still want to stop and take it in. All of it.

We motorcyclists are often credited with pinning the throttle or living life on the edge, but sometimes we actually do stop and realize we aren’t bigger than life but actually a small piece of it.

I wonder how many moments I’ve missed over the years because of my own lack of awareness? The ability to stop and appreciate something so big and out of my control is a learned trait and one that may take years of practice. Or maybe a few birthdays to realize life is more than a daily commute. We motorcyclists are often credited with pinning the throttle or living life on the edge, but sometimes we actually do stop and realize we aren’t bigger than life but actually a small piece of it.

This is what I need each and every day to prepare me for what’s ahead. It’s this calm feeling I need before the storm of life hits the shore. Even though the temperature is 36 degrees, just knowing the sun is coming up to warm the skies makes me feel anything is possible. In a matter of moments this sunrise will change and evolve into another day, but for right now it’s majestic and worthy of a moment of my time.

For this split-second, this sliver of my life, I am standing here in the right place at the right time to take this in. Sure, I may be standing in the ditch but I wouldn’t want it any other way.

 

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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?