Bringing Home the XT600

As I mentioned in my "Getting Back to Health" post, I had damaged the FJR. This led to a significant amount of cash, part of which was to be applied to labor for repairing my bike. Since I happened to know my way around bodywork, I took some of that cash and bought a 1995 Yamaha XT 600 off ebay. In January 2004, I packed my riding suit into a tailbag and carried that and my helmet onto a bus headed for Alamagordo, New Mexico. I would ride this bike home to San Antonio having never seen it in person, only trusting that it would start for me and deliver me unscathed nearly 700 miles and two days later.

I took this route.

Oh yeah, it was January and the temperatures were hovering about freezing most of the time. It warmed significantly as I approached San Antonio on the second day, though it was still cold.I hadn't figured out the technique to getting the steering column to lock, so I pulled the bike inside the hotel room that night to keep it secure. No harm done, right? I might add that it probably didn't hurt in getting the bike started the next morning. I learned later that it was much more difficult to start with the supertrap muffler installed - and cold.

I left Alamagordo around 5AM. The weather channel showed 28° in town. I stopped every twenty minutes or so to move around and warm myself up again. I pulled into El Paso shortly after sunrise and called home, letting my wife know I was on the move and doing well. With the coldest part of the day out of the way, I knew the rest could only get better.As the sun rose, I discovered that I was riding alongside an area that potentially had mines or other explosives laying about. I suppose one of the local bases used it for target practice.

Heading east on US 62, sights like these were not uncommon.

One of the 'colorful' gas stations on US highway 62. I was very concerned about having enough gasonline because the bike was averaging around 40 miles per gallon. On closer inspection, I could see why: the chain was probably the original and had a lot of rust on it. There were no gas stations on the stretch of Texas highway 54 until I reached Van Horn.


I saw a total of two tucks the entire time I was on 54.

I pulled into Van Horn and considered having lunch there. However, the hustle and bustle of a busy truck stop dissuaded me. I knew there were restaurants about, but I had no inclination to spend a lot of time looking for them. Seeking the solace of an empty road free of other people, I headed back out again, putting behind the thoughts of taking I-10 and droning down US-90.

I stopped in Marfa for lunch. My timing was obviously not so great, as I didn't get to see the famous "Marfa Lights." As I passed through Marfa and Marathon, I thought to myself how easy it would be to drop in on Big Bend for a day. I could see mountains over the horizon to the south of me. However, I knew I was ill-prepared for an adventure like that.

I pulled into Sanderson as it began to grow dark. The locals informed me that the next few towns would likely have their gas stations closed by the time I reached them (and I didn't have the range - or trust - that I would make it to Del Rio on a single tank of gas. I acquired an inexpensive hotel room and sought dinner at the local fast food joint. I thought it was only slightly unusual that a restaurant would offer a full variety of Mexican and American dishes, but as I ate and watched people arrive for dinner and take out, it made perfect sense; many of the restaurant's clientèle were Hispanic picking up inexpensive dinners for their families. With the bustle of the dinner "rush hour," I figured that I had landed in a good place to eat.

I walked back to my hotel room. I looked up and saw a pitch black sky. Even with the few street lamps on around me, the sky was stunning and clear. I could see the seven sisters clearly, even though my near-sightedness makes it extremely difficult to make out the question mark shape in the city. The lack of light pollution just amazed me. I have not seen since a sky so black, nor the stars so vibrant. Despite the cold, I envied all those that lived here. I also understood why the McDonald Observatory was not far away.

The next morning I woke to a cold, but overcast Sanderson. The locals informed me that I should drop in on the local 'Big Bend Information Center.' So, the XT and I putted over there and spent a bit of time chatting about Big Bend and discussing some of the literature on hand. This experience further solidified what I knew already: I needed to go to Big Bend.

The rest of the day was rather uneventful. I could see mountains over the horizon to the south. I got passed by a truck hauling cattle with the bumper sticker on the back: "Cows deserve to be eaten!" I was stunned and laughed so hard I almost wrecked the bike!

I think it was Langtry (though it might have been Comstock) where I stumbled in for breakfast. I asked if they had decaf coffee. A cowgirl (I'm not making this up) turned around and said, "This is Langtry - there ain't no decaf out here!" Turns out she was from San Antonio branding sheep on property she had out in this direction. Even though I never really put San Antonio into the whole "ranch" frame of mind - this is the 21st century after all - ranchiing is still alive and well, (hence the San Antonio Stock Show and Rodeo).

I fought my way through Del Rio (and got off 90 accidentally for a short bit before finding my way back). I also fought traffic in Uvalde. I was making great time. If the days hadn't been so short, I could have made my way home late last night. However, it was worth the extra time and expense for the memories of the ride.


Above: One of Texas' tallest bridges between Langtry and Comstock on US 90.

Pulling into San Antonio was like relaxing next to a babbling brook and suddenly stepping into a hip hop dance club. The traffic was heavy. I had to dodge construction and the XT was not very fond of riding at 70 mph. But that just made me appreciate the ride I made so much more!

It seemed like a good idea...

Regret.

Someone recently told me that they don't regret anything they've ever done, and the choices they make are a reflection of that. I also know this person is a salesman. So if he wasn't lying to me, he was lying to himself.

We've all said it at some point: "It seemed like a good idea at the time." The tattoo of the Chinese word for General's Chicken. The purchase of a pet rock. The restaurant you recommended to friends that got them all sick. Prohibition. War. Whatever. Everyone screws up. Everyone has regrets.

Thinking before acting helps. Training yourself to act "correctly" reflexively helps, too. But ultimately, our judgement will fall short.

Character - the measure we apply to ourselves - does not weigh exclusively on our correct actions, but also how we respond when we make mistakes. Despite our shortcomings as humans, regret fuels our drive to make ourselves better, even if it's an emotion we prefer uninvoked.

Why Riding is Better Than Flying

I'm on a roll here...


Security scanner can see through clothes

By TERRY TANG, Associated Press Writer 1 hour, 26 minutes ago

PHOENIX - Sky Harbor International Airport became the country's first to begin testing a controversial new federal screening system that takes X-rays of passenger's bodies in an effort to find concealed explosives and other weapons.
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The Phoenix airport started testing the new technology on Friday. It can see through people's clothes and show the body's contours with blush-inducing clarity.

Critics have said the high-resolution images created by the "backscatter" technology are too invasive. But the Transportation Security Administration adjusted the equipment to make the image look something like a line drawing, while still detecting concealed weapons.

During testing, the machine will be used only as a backup screening measure. Passengers who fail the standard screening with a metal detector will be able to choose between the new device or a pat-down search.

"It's 100 percent voluntary, so if the passenger doesn't feel comfortable with it, the passenger doesn't have to go through it,"
TSA spokesman Nico Melendez said.

Passengers selected for screening by the device are asked to stand in front of the closet-size X-ray unit with the palms of their hands facing out. Then they must turn around for a second screening from behind. The procedure takes about a minute.

"It seems faster. I'm not uncomfortable with it," said Kelsi Dunbar, 25, of Seattle, who chose the machine. "I trust TSA, and I trust that they are definitely trying to make things go quickly and smoothly in the airport.

But one expert said the machine's altered image is ineffective, while the clear picture is an invasion of privacy.

"The more obscure they make the image, the more obscure the contraband, weapons and explosives," said Barry Steinhardt, director of the Technology and Liberty Project at the ACLU in Washington, D.C. "The graphic image is a strip-search. You shouldn't have to be strip-searched to get on an airplane. Millions of Americans would regard them as pornographic."

The machine will be tested for up to 90 days at a single checkpoint at Sky Harbor International Airport's largest terminal, which hosts US Airways and Southwest Airlines, the two busiest airlines in Phoenix.

The technology could be left in place after the trial period, and the TSA hopes to roll out similar machines at the Los Angeles airport and New York's Kennedy Airport by the end of the year.

The security officer who works with the passenger going through the screening will never see the images the machine produces. The pictures will be viewed by another officer about 50 feet away who will not see the passenger, the TSA said.

The machine cannot store the images or transmit them and "once we're done screening the passenger, the image is gone forever," Melendez said.

He said the device at Sky Harbor costs about $100,000 but is on loan from the manufacturer, American Science and Engineering Inc. of Boston.

Mind you, this technology is not new, but it is invasive...

Calif. woman fights for passenger rights

By MARCUS WOHLSEN, Associated Press Writer Thu Feb 22, 8:38 PM ET

NAPA, Calif. - For more than eight miserable hours, Kate Hanni sat aboard a grounded plane at a Texas airport, yards from apparently empty gates. A few weeks after that December ordeal, the brassy real estate agent from California's wine country took her fight for a passengers' bill of rights to Capitol Hill.
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And politicians are listening.

On Saturday, as JetBlue was in the middle of a meltdown that left some passengers trapped aboard planes for almost half a day, Sen. Barbara Boxer (news, bio, voting record), D-Calif., introduced a bill that would prohibit airlines from keeping travelers stuck on the tarmac for longer than three hours.

And Hanni's congressman, Democratic Rep. Mike Thompson (news, bio, voting record), plans to file a similar bill in the House. He credits her with calling the issue to his attention.

"We need the legislation right now because the airlines won't police themselves," Hanni, 46, said recently in an interview in her bright Napa living room, where windows frame vineyard-covered hillsides.

A mother of two who moonlights as the lead singer of a funk band, Hanni has become the unlikely leader of a gathering movement. She has apparently tapped into a deep well of anger among many travelers.

Hanni's American Airlines flight was diverted from Dallas to Austin on Dec. 29 because of storms. The agonizing wait on the tarmac, she said, was only the beginning of her frustrations.

Hanni, her husband and two sons waited another 2 1/2 hours at the baggage claim before being told the bags would remain on the plane because the flight would continue on in the morning, she said.

American offered the put-out passengers only $10 discount vouchers for hotel rooms, Hanni said. (A spokesman for American could not confirm the amount but said the customer contract makes clear the company does not fully cover lodgings for weather-related cancellations.)

When she finally arrived in Dallas the next day to make her connecting flight to Mobile, Ala., Hanni said, a gate agent informed her that her bags were on the next flight to Mobile, but she was not.

"We're not going to quibble with the fact that we put our customers in a situation that they never should have been in," American spokesman Tim Wagner said. Passengers were kept on the plane in hopes of still getting them to Dallas that same day, he said.

In the end, Hanni said, it took her, her husband and two sons 57 hours to travel from San Francisco to Mobile, finally arriving at their ultimate destination, a lavish Gulf Coast spa, late on New Year's Eve.

Hanni said her December trip was supposed to be a restorative vacation, after she was jumped and beaten in June by a man in a ski mask at a house she was trying to sell. She ended up spending a big part of her trip in cramped airline seats and hotel rooms, wearing the same clothes day after day.

After returning home in January, Hanni began gathering the stories of fellow passengers' frustrations by e-mail. She posted many of them on a blog that quickly became the focal point of the passengers' bill of rights campaign.

By the end of the month, Hanni was in Washington, lobbying for pro-passenger legislation.

The movement gained momentum last week when a snowstorm left passengers trapped inside JetBlue planes at New York's Kennedy Airport for up to 10 1/2 hours. JetBlue introduced its own customer bill of rights earlier this week.

Along with imposing the three-hour limit, Boxer's bill would require airlines to provide food, water and sanitary bathrooms to passengers stuck on the tarmac.

Thompson's bill would also require airlines to keep passengers updated on the reasons for the delays, reveal which flights are chronically delayed and strive to return lost bags in 24 hours.

Airlines oppose such legislation, arguing they know better than politicians how to fix the problems.

"We think that inflexible standards that would be imposed through some sort of mandatory legislation could easily have the unintended effect of inconveniencing customers more in some situations," said David Castelveter, a spokesman for the Air Transport Association, the airlines' main industry trade group.

Since Dec. 29, when 67 American flights were stuck on the tarmac for more than three hours, the airline has revised its policy to ensure passengers do not spend more than four hours in grounded planes, Wagner said. The company has sent out apologies and ticket vouchers to about 5,000 passengers affected that day, he said.

Nevertheless, Hanni said she does not plan to give up her fight to make air travel less unpleasant.

"I'm going to take it all the way," she said, "no matter what it takes."

___

On the Net:

Coalition for an Airline Passengers' Bill of Rights: http://strandedpassengers.blogspot.com

My solution is simple. Ride a motorcycle!

Okay, sure I'm making light of these situations. But really! That kind of garbage to deal with just to get somewhere... annoys me. I've flown once since 9/11 and it was very, very different. I didn't like it and I'm dubious I'd do it again anytime soon. I'd rather ride.

Except I may have a personal trip in a couple months that requires a flight. Drats! Darn this inflexible job!

Riding in the Rain

Yesterday morning was not very challenging. It had rained earlier in the morning and was just misting when I rode to work. The FJR, however, got very dirty. Ironically, we're having pictures taken at the shop today...

As the weather commonly has it - when riding to work in inclement conditions, you can sometimes expect excellent riding on the way home. And yes, it was very nice riding home!

Sarcasm

I've noticed that the people I work with use sarcasm a lot. I've been in other work environments where sarcasm is prevalent. It can be hard to deal with when you don't know a person is just kidding around. But I can understand the desire to be or seem "mean" given the challenging circumstances where we work.

However, when dealing with customers, one must tread lightly. Some people don't appreciate adult humor (I'm not going to elaborate) and some people won't figure out a joke unless they're quickly told it's a joke. As a practice, when I kid someone - anyone - I try to let on to my humor as quickly as possible to prevent the feeling of getting "highbrowed" or insulted.

Of course, of all the people there, I'm the most serious of the bunch, so I suppose that it concerns me more than the rest. *Sigh*

Shop Rant

So I am temporarily behind the parts counter until we move to the new location. I'm answering phone calls and providing parts service to customers.

First, there's the (other) brand-loyal people that will spend $15,000+ on a superfluous motorcycle and have the nerve to be a penny pinching cheapskate for every part and accessory. It cracks me up and saddens me to see expensive bikes with cheap tires or botched modifications because the owner couldn't bring him/herself to spend the money to do a proper job.

Secondly, I was not aware of how much rudeness and time-wasting comes from the telephone. People asking for parts that cannot be described over the phone, not knowing what bike they have, hanging up in the middle of a sentence... Saying "hello" and "goodbye" is common etiquette, isn't it?

Then I suppose that the people that do this aren't smart enough to realize that we indeed have caller ID. And if you're enough of a jerk, then maybe you really do deserve to pay too much for your parts. Or maybe you do deserve to have your parts arrive later than usual. And maybe your friends and associates know you're a jerk and take that into consideration when you complain - because you probably complain about everything!

Even though the sign at the front of the building says "We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone," I think there is more satisfaction in taking that person's money, especially when the (exceptionally more likable) person right next to him gets a better deal.

Sure, this is just a rant. People get mad or screw up. That's understandable. Treating people like dirt is intolerable - from either side of the counter. I've always striven to excel at respectfulness; perhaps my personal high standards are too much to ask from common consumers? I doubt it. People enjoy helping others. When jerks try to take that away, let the chips fall where they may... Nobody wants to help a jerk. But anybody will take his money.

Night Ride

After a long, though good day at work, I realized that I needed to fill the FJR up with gas. I knew the wife was home, watching the Spurs beat up on the Denver Nuggets, so I decided to take the bike out for a quick ride around the "loop."

It's not the same "loop" as found in East Central Florida, and it's a little shorter. But it's a lot more exciting when done at night with the possibility of deer jumping out in front of you.

MAP

I take loop 1604 to Nacagdoches (2252), and hang a left on 3009 towards Garden Ridge. Shoenthal Road is pretty during the day, but I usually skip it. I hang a left at the light at 1863 and wind my way through small elevation changes and curves. I wander into a residential area (more like side streets that lead into residential areas) and look for Smithson Valley Road.
Turning left onto SV Rd, it turns into Bulverde Road, which can take you back to Loop 1604. Or you can exit left onto Evans Rd which passes Green Mountain and intersects Nacagdoches.

The loop used to be much more fun, but Bulverde/Smithson Valley Rd has seen a lot of growth over the past two or three years. I could go down that road at 5PM on a weekday and encounter very little traffic past Evans; today, I rarely go that way until after 7:30 - just to avoid road raging commuters. It's also sad that the green hills have been replaced with rolling suburbs, and another beautiful two lane road has been claimed by sprawl.

Beautiful Monday

Ah... Yesterday was a perfect finale to a very cold week. The skies were blue, the air was warm (a very enjoyable - almost warm - 68° F). It was perfect riding weather. So, as you might imagine, I probably headed off to the hill country for a nice, long ride, right?

Nope. Not at all.

My wife and I were getting some blood work done at the doctor's office. I figured I'd go riding after that. But I got a call from Tanya at the Blood Bank who asked me if I would be available to donate platelets again. It just so happened that I was available that afternoon. So after our doctor appointment ended, we grabbed lunch and went down to the South Texas Blood and Tissue Center off I-10 near Vance Jackson.

I'm very poor at reading my emails, but they sent this to me just a few days ago:

The South Texas Blood & Tissue Center is calling out to the community with a pressing message to urge all eligible blood donors to give blood. All blood types are needed to help boost the community blood supply, which was threatened last month during the severe weather that affected many parts of the nation and impacted the blood supply. Currently, the blood level is at a critical level, meaning that there is less than a one day supply of blood, far less than the necessary three to four day supply needed to adequately serve the community.

The importance of your blood donation is directly tied to our present need. Your donation of blood or platelets will ensure that patients, young and old, receive the necessary transfusions. Blood is perishable and has a shelf life of only 42 days, so the need for blood is constant. You can be the link that makes a difference in our community. Be a model advocate for donating blood by helping us during this critical time and connecting for life.

I don't know when I'll next be available to donate, so I do as much as I can whenever I can. I also figure that by donating now, I'm helping not only myself but other bikers who might need what I can freely give. Despite the fact that some places will actually pay for your donations, I have a better feeling about donating. I've also heard that the risks involved are a lot lower than the pay-for-blood places... Regardless, I've always been a fan of helping other people. If I gave up a day of riding to do so, then hey - a little bit of my time to save another person's life is worth it.

If you're eligible to donate, you should consider doing so yourself. Then again, you also get free juice and cookies! Ha ha!

FJR Oil

I overheard a conversation the other day: a guy calls in to the shop and asks the parts guy what kind of automotive oil he can use in his FJR. The parts guy tells him, "any kind, sir - if you don't mind replacing your clutch a lot sooner!" I think the caller hung up on the parts clerk, but I can just hear the caller saying - "that's not what I red on teh internet!"

|\/|0R0|\| !!!!

Just because you read it, leet, doesn't mean it's true. You gotta be smarter than your tools!

As for what kind of oil to use in your bike - use what your motorcycle owner's manual tells you: stick to motorcycle specific oil of particular viscosities! Me? I used semi-synthetic oil (Motul) after I had 10,000 miles on the bike and change the oil and filter every 3,000 miles. Before that I used Yamalube 20w40 per factory specs, and I still use Yamalube to top off the oil during changes. I found a Purolator Pure One oil filter that fits perfectly and costs less than dealer's cost on a Yamaha OEM replacement filter. As a testament to both the bike and the oil, I have virtually no oil consumption at over 50,000 miles.

Riding in the Cold

Riding yesterday was as I expected - cold! Such experiences usually teach me a thing or two, which is why I look forward to them. It was certainly the coldest weather I've ridden in, as the morning low was 25° F; my previous low was an unofficial 28° F. However, that last low did not happen during a simple commute - it occurred over two days of riding with a good story and pictures to boot.

So, what did I learn this time? Smart wool socks underneath my Alpinestar boots worked well. Even with the liner in my First Gear riding pants, I still got a little bit of a draft just above my boots. I need to keep the waist of my Millini touring jacket cinched, but it will still be drafty. Wearing a turtleneck with that jacket was a good idea, though more bulky insulative clothing - like a vest - might have been a nice improvement for a longer ride (there's not much room in the arms with the liner in). My riding gloves - even with liners - aren't any good at keeping the cold out of my fingertips at these temperatures. Perhaps I do need to install the wind deflectors I scavenged off the XT... The balaclava I used is nice, but could still use a neckwarmer for longer rides. And no matter what, I can still tell when I'm sitting on a cold seat.

Which reminds me: a few years ago, them mere mention of heated grips and heated seats brought about all kinds of scorn at the bike shop I worked out. Times have changed and attitudes have crept into the 21st century. Our shop now sells a kit for ATV's (which can be adapted to any vehicle with handlebars) for only $25. That's quite a bargain compared to what I've seen on 'teh internet.'

As for riding in the cold, I must admit that I am very glad I rode to work yesterday. You see, the clouds cleared out the night before, allowing a lot of heat to radiate, cooling our area. The morning was cloudless, and the sun shone brightly. The day warmed up very nicely, and today will be even warmer. The cold was a precursor to warmer, more beautiful weather. It wasn't simply enjoyable in and of itself, it was a joy in predicting things to come!

Cool Weather Ahead

I have to admit that even though it's predicted to dip below freezing for a few days this week, I'm looking forward to the cool weather. I can finally use my seldom-used cold-weather riding gear to get to work and feel like I got my money's worth.

Getting back to health

Does this look like a dangerous intersection to you?
This was taken at the same time of day as my accident.
The exit is covered in gravel - it's just a little thicker on
the outside than on the inside.

I can't believe it's been three years since my hard lowside near US-90.

To simplify the story, I thought I saw gravel on the outside of an exit ramp, so I leaned the bike a little further and WHAM! I was suddenly having one of those moments where you have this long conversation in your head while this incident that lasts just a few milliseconds occurs in slow motion:

"This shouldn't be happening..."

"Well, hang on this time. It might get better..."

"Oh, no. Not again."

"I can't hold on!"

"This is gonna hurt... "

"Just gotta keep the helmet off the ground..."

"It's over. If I could just lay here for a moment before I get up. Man, my hip hurts."

As it happens, right before I made the "turn" I waved to a guy on a cruiser. He rode up to me and asked it I was all right. I don't remember what I told him, but I can only imagine that he called for help. I knew I just wanted to rest a minute before I tried to get up. But, before I could do any of that, a police officer was holding my helmet still and telling me not to move. I swear I just closed my eyes for a second... But I was fully aware of my surroundings as the ambulance arrived, they checked for my ID and asked me what had happened. I was also smart enough to ask the paramedics to remove my tankbag before they drove off with me. Good thing, too. I had my camera (a Nikon D70) in there. I managed to convince my paramedic to take a snapshot while I was being transported, though I didn't realize that the camera was no longer on automatic, so the pictures came out a little fuzzy.

Did you have to tape me to this board?
I'm glad you didn't cut my (favorite) jacket off!

Hi, I'll be your paramedic today...

I won't bore you with how I was feeling better by the time I got to the hospital, they untaped me and discovered that everything was fine and how my wife and inlaws arrived to make sure I was okay. My mother-in-law swore she was going to burn the bike. I can shrug that off, but nothing made my heart sink as much as when the paramedic took out my cell phone and called my wife at work to tell her that I was in an accident. "What have I done?" I kept asking myself.

But it's the recovery that was so interesting. I went through a couple months of chronic pain in my right hip - the place where I was primarily injured. I wasn't healing well, even though the bruising had gone down tremendously. I had been to chiropractors before, but I thought to myself, "why not?" I've done the physical therapy route before and it only helped a little.

Above: the bruise and road rash I acquired despite my gear.
I'm glad I wore it; wish I had worn more...

My wife and I went to "Back to Health Chiropractic" (which is fitting, no?) where they took x-rays and performed an initial physical. I was impressed by the thoroughness of the doctor's examination before providing any treatment. It also helped that they took my insurance, too. I went to a Monday afternoon seminar Dr. Drew holds and learned about his philosophy of chiropractic care and some of the things patients need to practice when receiving care. After a couple weeks, I began feeling better with only residual pain. After a few months, my hip would only act up on occasion. Three years later, I'm much more fit, I have better posture, my allergies don't act up near as badly (I'm not kidding about that one!) and I'm generally in better health.

So after that last trip in the truck, my "trouble spots" were telling me that I needed to go back ASAP. I've seen a couple other 'bikers' in his office on occasion. I can tell you that from my own experience, a chiropractor - one that takes the time to find out what's wrong and what's right - can make all the difference. Combine that with a good diet and some exercise and you'll feel like you're on top of the world!

My riding boots took a lot of damage for me - and spared my ankle!

This was my favorite leather jacket. It was unarmored and rode up around
my waist allowing the road rash. If I had worn my riding pants, that
bruise might not have been so bad, either...

Rage Against the Cage

So I just completed a two and a half day visit to northern Alabama. About halfway there I realized that taking the bike had been a cursory afterthought whose possibility was squashed by lack of preparation. The sun shone brightly and the air had a pleasant, cool breeze. As I sat in my truck for over 14 hours, I began itching to have the air run over me - not my truck. I wanted to look over my shoulder and see scenery - not my truck's seatbelt. And yeah, it cost a lot more in gas to take the truck, too.

On the return home, I drove through temperatures in the low 20's and shivered madly every time I got out of the truck. (Of course, I was driving at night). I thought to myself that with the little bit of misting I came across, the Ironbutt hotel would have been downright miserable. Despite that, I probably would have dressed for the occasion and left early in the morning with the rising temperatures instead of descending into darkness and the cold of that particular night.

When I passed through Austin, I turned the radio to 101.5 (http://www.101x.com) and listened to Alternative music for about an hour. No, I probably wouldn't have done that on the bike - though I could have if I wanted. But the sickly, mind-numbing feeling of having sat still in a cage wouldn't have robbed my soul of the freedom riding gives me had I taken the bike. I wouldn't have superslabbed it through Austin, either.

Alternative music doesn't pretend to be anything other than what it is: different. I really missed that this time around. Riding - even in the nastiest of weather - separates me from all the other cages out there. The cages do not control me when I ride; where I go and how I do it remains my choice. My motorcycle is the instrument by which I create my experience; it does not define me - I define my ride.

Having done this trip and others like it (and worse), I feel more determined to take the bike next time I travel by ground. I can't believe that I let so many people talk me out of even considering the bike. I'm not really going to go into detail about the reason for the trip, but I would have been a lot happier if my two-wheeled companion had been there with me.

The dreaded first post

This is the defining moment, my first comments to the world. I will capture the attention of my now-captive audience and inspire them to do great things with their collective lives. I will shake the pillars of our civilization and challenge the very precepts we assume for perpetuating our little, human lives.

And I will fail miserably.

Why am I starting this blog? If my wife can do it, I can too. But I have no problem letting her be better at it. In fact, I fully expect her blog to be slick, full of attentive responses and captivating posts. Mine will be a mere shadow.

It's not that I'm living out the movie Stepford Wives, or any such nonsense. Rather, I'll spend my time riding my motorcycle instead of perfecting the next sentence. Heck, I'd rather be riding right now. Which brings me to a curious observation: I'm nearly a thousand miles away from home and I brought my truck and my laptop - and I'm writing about riding. To say that I'm disturbed by this curious sequence of events is to say too little. I'd rather have ridden here, screw the computer and the change of clothes!

So am I just getting older? Is it because I freaked my boss out when I told him I needed a week off to go see some family (and he highly encouraged me to not ride - more on this later)? Am I finally bowing to years of pressure from the rest of my family? Was it simply more practical to take four wheels instead of four? It's above 50 degrees right now (okay, so it is February)... One of the first places I visited when I arrived here was a bike shop! Why am I not riding again?

I don't know the answer quite for sure, but it certainly bothers me. And if I'm not posting, let's all hope that it's because I'm out riding. And if you're out there riding, too - I'll wave! I don't need to brag about all my exploits to feel good about myself - or even have the best blog. I just need to have the rubber side down and the wind blowing over my helmet!

See you out there!