By the shores of Gitchie Gummie
by the shining big sea water
lay the wigwam of....OLDFLIPPINHARLEYLOVER !!!!
it's the day before the big hunt,
and I am melancholy.
not a hunter myself, and wish good luck to all sportsmen.
sportsmen...not gender specific...but ones who play the game straight.
worse thing I heard this year...was a decapitated head of a moose on a rock, sort of locally, and a sign.."the wolfs wont get this one".
sorry for dropping the f bomb..but that person or persons, are just f*cking poachers !
burns my ass, less than 500 moose here...
sorry about the tirade..but something important to me,
and it is where I decided to live.
I moved to the southern shores of Lake Superior,
in my opinion one of the most beautiful places in the U.S.
but ...it is becoming winter.
and winter means I hibernate and dream of springs.
springs and summers, and even falls..
most times find me content
but winter..my solitude sometimes seems unbearable.
so I blog, here..maybe there...
and I search all those "free" websites looking for that compatible creature
and, I hang around on a couple social networks...
and putz and polish my bike
or..work on the one that..someday...will be done.
I had a woman, actually two.
so I know, I am capable of loving someone.
age creeps in slowly,
my mind too immature to know I'm not some kid anymore
but this darn heart just keeps aching
for someone that would love me as I could love them.
but winter is just begining,
and by the time the big sea water freezes over
my mind will be long gone!
now and then, I come back to these blogs...
not as much said as I wish to read, but still
any motorcycle talk is something close to me.
as far as the dating aspect of here...only met a few people online,
and at least one in person!
took a few trips...no big ride to sturgis, but I pulled a little one down to Iowa, checked out some hippies and hooligans!
it was great to meet some really talented builders,
and we're going to have a local little get together...
for members of the IMBA
not sure what that means, but I know Ron Finch will be there, and that guy is a mind blower of a genius!
I think his "third eye" must have been put there by Von Dutch!
also snuck in a tour of the National Motorcycle Museum in Anamosa Iowa..
nice place, and even has the only original, ( tho restored ) Captain America...authenticated by Peter Fonda.
saw a couple Motor Maids while I was there...and I don't really know what it is..but girls who ride just turn me on!
summer is winding down..tho far from over! and I'll be beating foot trying to make the most of it before old man what's his name blows into town
projects are backing up..the chopper was supposed to be done last July,
and it only needs a few things, but if I don't add oil and fuels, she can reside in the living room this winter ( X-mas tree? ) while the next one goes on the building box, another 58.
I guess I got issues...one's not done, and I'm too far into the next one mentally,
little like the last little love of my life,
she's nearly gone, and I'm dreaming of the next one!
hey all...attended the 39th annual Blessing of the Bikes in Baldwin MI
first timer here, and the weather was terrible...up until Sunday...the actual blessing....so blessed we were!
my first time in a long time to that part of the state,
and tho over 1000 miles of my entire trip I hid behind a leather bandana,
it felt great to get out, and on the road.
lot's to do this summer, I hope all of you have a great year riding and stay safe!
sarcasm and brass balls.
sarcasm, when written, and no facial expression
is difficult at times.
sarcasm is criticism in some form.
retrospect is easy.
history was already made.
is sitting around saying..
" I could have done it better"
" I wouldn't have done that"
people with brass balls sit around and polish them alot.
world's in a bad position right now,
criticism ain't changing a thing
I ain't got brass balls,
mine are solid gold! lol
I'm going riding....
from the wee weary top
to the bottom we shall go
on hogs made of steel
and tires of two or more
riders of two
and a passenger of one
legs total eight
but Ike is freak!
less than a month
and our trip takes off,
from just below Canada
down to the Carolinas,
going to see an old friend,
with an old friend, and his old dog,
and me..the other old dog! lol
I dig riding along with Ike,
he rides in the sidecar...
last time we went riding,
he had his son along.
we'd hit a curve,
both dogs leaning out on opposite sides of the 'car,
then they would jump and switch sides....
we hit the four lane
and I pull up
Ike looks at me
gives a nod
and puts his face back in the breeze...
we're cool brother!
like a scene from an old movie, Cat Ballou
he opened his trunk and pulled out the carefully
laying them out upon his bed.
he dressed with the dignity and style
of a matador,
his favorite black shirt
with it's shiny silver buttons,
black leather, and shining in the sunlight
placing his leather belt on
he admired it's heavy silver buckle
then he put on his boots,
he reached for his black leather jacket,
and grabbed his white helmet,
after putting on his sunglasses
he climbed upon his steed,
deep sapphire blue
shining brightly the metallic particles in the paint.
nudging the starter button
he awakened the beast,
groggily it arose
together they slowly meandered about
regaining comfort in each other.
how quickly he thought
they became one,
in tune with each other
after such slumber....
what was it? four months?
smile came upon his face,
he knew it was inevitable
for each time
just he and his steed
went upon their journeys
it awoke something deep inside him.
something difficult for him to explain,
something he cherished each time it happened
but this feeling
he always wished to put into words.
the time alone
his mind ran as fast as his steed
new stories to tell,
when forced through his nostrils
made him sigh.
slow winding paths
warm sunlight upon his face
outside in his world
he was amazed how differently it all looked.
like a halo gram
bright to his attention
he felt he could just reach out and touch it.
he breathed in
and exhaled slowly,
he felt anew
awake after such a slumber.
nothing at all like while in his cage
boxed in with four walls, windows, tires
no, upon his steed he was alive
he was whom he is
inside where his spirit lives
it had taken no time at all!
not an hour
not a half hour
but nearly one quarter of an hour
and he came alive.
so it is snowing
winter is here
the bikes are all put away
there's nowhere to play.
too cold out in the garage
no way to get downstairs
looks like the house is the best place
to practice my wrenching skills.
maybe a long winter
maybe a long spring
but summers looking pretty good
for a panhead king!
all of you
will get to see
the happy me
upon the seat
of my new old stead!
so......when does the "lucky" year round riders get to rebuild?
it's that time of year again, thought Johnny.
time to be thankful,
for what we have,
what we've had.
so the years reeled back in his mind
like an old picture show.
seems like he always went back,
back to the times of a young buck.
back to the days when he and his buddies ran wild.
times weren't always good,
there were some tough times,
funny he thought, how quickly and easily
he and Butch became friends.
started at work, just a noticing Butch wasn't like
most the other guys,
he stood out.
the long hair and beard, not that big of a thing,
but a few tattoos, most of the guys on the crew didn't wear.
and being a set of wings on his arms,
Johnny knew Butch rode.
Johnny had a newer Shovelhead,
and asked Butch if he wanted to stop after work for a cold one.
Butch said sure, but he had to stop off at home first.
Johnny had been getting a little loaded after work,
beers were going down smooth.
suddenly the door opened up,
the sunset shining brightly in.
and in walked Butch.
Butch wasn't alone!
tagging just slightly behind him
was one of the finest women Johnny had seen for along time!
long legged, long haired, and just a fine specimen of a woman!
all the right parts, in all the right places!
Butch introduced Laura to Johnny
Polite how do you do's.
Laura put a couple quarters in the juke box,
Lynard Skynard blasted out the speakers,
and soon everyone was having a good time.
all good things come to an end,
and it was time to leave.
the two new bros went out to the parking lot,
and Johnny checked out Butches ride,
an old flathead trike.
kind of rusty,
kind of ratty,
but a true rider,
you could tell it had miles on it!
Butch had parked next to Johnnys shovelhead,
and as they mounted up, Butch asked if Johnny could give
Laura a ride home.
doesn't she live with you? Johnny recalled asking butch,
hell no! was his answer, she's my sister!
Johnny didn't make it home that night.
Lauras place was closer than his,
and her arms around him, well...
it was that good feelng he'd forgot.
it was a good summer that year.
these two new brothers and Laura spent alot of time in the saddle.
by fall, Johnny and Laura were an item,
too obvious, too perfect.
it was a bad winter.
Butch was a party animal.
he rode that trike through the winter,
saying with three wheels he couldn't fall down.
but he neglected to say,
three wheels don't necessarily keep you on the road,
as that broken guard rail proved.
Johnny held Lauras hand,
it had been 10 years now.
Thanksgiving time of the year,
he stood remembering his friend.
thankful for the good times shared,
thankful for the woman introduced to him,
now his full time companion.
Laura squeezed Johnnys hand tightly,
she was thankful too.
they had both lost a brother,
just one was blood.
but he left them each other,
he made them all family.
well...whatever the hell you are, come'on over here and give me a hand locking
this sumanabitch up!
yeah...thought the young biker, you probably couldn't even pick up that chain and lock.
"why you gotta lock that old rusty piece of shit up for anyway?
nobody in their right mind would wanta steal that!"
it ain't so nobody'll steal it, it's so we don't steal out into the night! dumbass!
"yeah..right pops...you and this old knucklehead...like it would run, or you could even hold it up, ya crippled old bastard!"
watch your smartmouth sonny...I guess you aint been around long enough to be here on Halloween night?
"don't worry pops, I'll take care of it, you go back and sit in your rocking chair"
I think I will kid, I ain't feelin so good.
the old guy shuffled over and fell into the chair, moments later he was out like a light.
the young guys phone rang, it was Sherri, the new hot young barmaid down at the tavern..
he was on that like white on rice!
dusk came, the old man slept,
and in the eriest light of night, the metamorphisis began...
like a Ray Bradbury novel, the bike began changing...
rust off the fork legs, fell to the ground, shining chrome beneath appearing,
dust, erased itself, the peanut tank glistened once again in the 20 coats of hand rubbed
Pagan gold laquer.
the old avons, once flat and dry rotted, refilled themselves with air, the spokes shining,
the torn old bates, the seat that had seen more miles, than the bike itself, softened it's black leather inviting the slumbering rider.
miraculously the knuckle started on it's own, the tall upsweeps spitting out flames as the knuckle roared into life...
what the hell? yelled the old man as he woke
I thought I told that young pup to lock us up!
the rocker clutch disengaged, the jockey shifter slapped itself into first and slipped the clutch and roared up to the old man, reving up it's engine, the knuckle head urged the old biker up out of his chair.
somanabitch said the old man, I'm getting to old for this shit..
when he suddenly fell to his knees.
he wiggled and moaned and rolled on his side yelling about his damn arthiritis...
and finally stopped.
he got up off the floor, now standing some six foot tall, all muscular and buff...
shining black hair, not a gray one left insight, arms that were once frail, now had bicepts
that any young man would be envious off.
okay girl, you win said the old? man, let's go for a ride.
he tossed his leg over the bike, dropped the clutch, and put that 21 up in the sky!
they blasted down the road, leaves flying in the breeze left behind the screaming harley,
slapping gears, and twisting the throttle on the old? linkert.
they pulled into the parking lot, hours later,
the stud biker strolled into the local bar, right up to the bar and ordered a Bud.
'hey handsome, smiled Sherri, take a young girl out for a¿ ride?'
" I thought we were going out tonight Sherri" said the young pipsqueek scooter trainee
'sorry darlin...it's not everynight a stud and his steed strolls in this water hole!' said Sherri
she rounded the end of the bar, took the beer from the big biker, said ' there's plenty more of these at my place sugar'
the stud biker put his arm around her waist, grabbed her cheek, and headed for the door...
the young guy stood and stammered "but...but........but......"
the big biker turned around , winked at the kid, and said...I told ya to lock us up...
now I got your girl too....but don't worry.....you can have her when ¿I get done with her, and then¿I won't be back again until next year....