The Most Wonderful Time of The Year

I originally wrote this post on December 21st, 2017. In times of turmoil, sometimes we forget to do things..... like post a blog.  Although at this point, Christmas, or the Holiday Season for you insanely politically correct, is 10 months away, it's still a good time to get that Christmas Wish List in order.  Hopefully, this post will inspire you.

Christmas. I love Christmas. I don't just love it, I embrace it. I live it.

My family wasn't and still isn't rich or wealthy in the monetary sense, not even comfortable but always scraping and getting by. Even to this day the desire to spend what money I have to spoil those I love with Christmas gifts is often hampered by financial woes, but somehow, I find a way to wrap gifts to give, meager as they may be.

I can remember as a kid, maybe 5 or 6, pulling a sled from the apartment we lived over to my Grandparents house two blocks away in the snow and then later in the day pulling the same sled home loaded with as many gifts that I could fit on it. We're talking about the early 1960's here, a different and simpler time.

As the years went by, my eyes never stopped widening on Christmas morning and the excitement of the coming Christmas day never ceases. Even now as I approach my sixth decade of existence I still get all giddy about Christmas. Some have gone as far as to call me a Christmas Brat. Fine, I gladly accept the label and will wear it proudly. The reason for this label is because, well, I issue a Christmas list to my family every year and have done so for as long as I can remember. Sure the list has changed over the years but the idea hasn't. If you get me something off this list, regardless of what you pick, you will be getting me something that I would like. There is no guessing and no sinking fake smile when I open that fur mailbox that sings when I open it because you "thought" I would like it. I don't and I wouldn't. Save yourself, look at the list and the great thing about the list is that regardless of what you get off that list, I still don't know what it is until I open it. It is still a surprise. THAT, is the fun part.

When I was younger, it was all kid stuff. Toys, games and such. Then it evolved into car stuff and more expensive items. Eventually, I got the idea to put anything I desired on the list knowing full well that there was no way in hell I would ever get them, but it was funny to see on the list. Things like a boat, a Jeep, a trip to Germany, a Harley. Of course practical things made it to the list as well, like a bag of pretzels, a box of Red Rose Tea, a book, a bag of M&M's, a bottle of Coke.

That is what makes my list so tolerable in that it is so ridiculous. Item #3 may be a 2018 Harley Sportster but item #4 might be a request for breakfast at IHOP or a pack of gum. It's the first thing that pops into your head, what your stomach would like, what your mouth wants to taste or what would be satisfying at any particular time. It's just the things you like. One year I had on the list "Dinner with my wife at The Ark" (a local restaurant in town). So you see, it's not just about stuff, it's also about people.

Truth be told, it's not just about getting, it's also about participation. My list is also a form of encouragement to those who get the list to participate and get involved in the season of giving. A means to action. A method to motivate those who would rather "Bah-Humbug" Christmas than participate in it simply because it's "too much effort to figure out what to get you".

Shut up, get over yourself, here's my list, this is easy, Merry Christmas.

I have gotten Harley or motorcycle stuff for Christmas, usually clothing or some sort of gear for the bike. Sometimes it wasn't on the list, but people know me and what I like. Those who don't know me that well...... I refer you to my list.

The opening picture is of a 1964 Harley Davidson M-50 a market competitive bike actually built by Aemecchi of Italy and had the HD badge put on it. The 50cc two-stroke was a panic creation by HD to battle the influx of similar Honda bikes. At the time, this poorly marketed little scoot would set you back $225. While these were sold up to 1972, Harley's poor marketing ultimately killed it when it actually deserved much better treatment since it actually wasn't that bad. Compared to many Mopeds now, this little bike in excellent restored condition can sell for up to $6000 now. But I can promise you, it's not on my Christmas list.

Beauties Indeed

If someone says "Say, these 2018 Harley-Davidsons are beauties", while I might agree, the statement lacks the same romance as it does when referring to the 1939 Harley's. As impressive as the new HD's are, as beautiful as they are, as Santa-please-put-one-under-my-tree as they are.... there's something about one of these vintage bikes that just makes me smile.
                                                                                                                                                               

Purely mechanical. Zero electronics to govern anything. Headlight, tail-light, engine, saddle, tank, tires, bars, fenders and GO. Extremely appealing, put your helmet on and go.... well... in this case, your motorcycle club cap and jockey boots.

The bike pictured in this ad is the 1939 Harley Davidson Model U. Boasting a 74 cubic inch engine that produced a whopping 33 HP and 4-speed transmission, drum brakes and springer front suspension. Fully restored U's in excellent condition are selling in the $20K range.

Old Stuff Rocks

I have some vintage Popular Mechanics and Popular Science magazines from 1949 through 1953. I love old magazines because they depict an innocent era, an era where everything was new and exciting, where there was respect for everything and everyone. Back in these times, everything was mechanical and analog. YOU had to make things work, there was a romance about machinery. Not anymore. There is no respect for anything, anyone and who operates machinery anymore? Motorcycles are pretty much the last of the a bygone day and even those days are nearly numbered with the emergence of electric motorcycles.

One of my favorite things about these old magazines are the ads, which you'll be seeing much more of in future posts.  This particular ad is for the 1953 Harley Davidson Model 165. I like how they have made it seem so simple, fun and carefree. I'm amazed at the implication of riding without a helmet, zipping along with more power and not a care in the world. We should be so lucky.

The Model 165 was a revision to the 1948 S125 with an increase in engine size to 165 producing just over 3 HP. It had no battery and was a magneto start. It didn't have front fork suspension as we know it today, instead it used large rubber bands.

Blogger Hell Part 2

Continued from previous blog (no kidding?).....

Where does my time go? Seemingly two places. There is the Motorcycle Men Podcast that I am the creator/writer/researcher /editor and Host of and there is the TV time with the Mrs. We are currently sucked into about 6 shows, one of which we are binge watching. While the tube time might not be the best or most constructive way to use my time, it is time with the little woman and well, you can't go wrong with that.

The Podcast has been my baby for two and a half years at this point. My co-hosts (my brothers) and I do a studio show where the three of us get together and try to follow a script of topics for an hour and a half and we do this every two weeks. On the weeks in between, I usually do an interview show in my home studio via Skype with Authors, industry professionals, other bloggers, other podcasters, entertainers and whoever else is connected to motorcycles. And with 106 episodes under my belt, I have developed quite the following and quite the reputation among motorcycle Podcasters. So why give up that fame and invisible Podcast dollars?

Sugar waits for the ride home

It takes a lot of my time. Not really. I do have time, but I am avoiding it. I don't know why.  But, now that I have a job and I do sit at a picnic table with my Surface Pro 3, an internet connection, there is no reason that I cannot pursue this blog....or the other one I started.... or the book I haven't finished.

So while I split my commuting duties between my new Jeep Cherokee Trailhawk and my trusty 2003 Heritage, I have an hour to think about what I'm going to write about. No excuses this time.  None. Zero.

Will I follow through? Will I continue to tell stories about the road from two wheels? I will, frequency to be determined BUT will improve. You may see a change though, where I focus all of my writing towards motorcycling. This in an effort to boost Podcast ratings. Thanks for sticking with me.

Blogger Hell Part 1

When I first started this blog, I did it with the intention that I would "document" every ride I did or at least once a week. Be it on my motorcycle or on my bicycle, it would be a photo and text play-by-play of said adventures. In theory, this is quite possible. In practice I have discovered it's akin to herding cats.

Because I am plagued with a self-diagnosed case of ADHD (Attention Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder) and/or/in addition to a self-diagnosed case of Dyslexia, I have a difficult time focusing on any one thing for very long because there is something else I want to give my attention. The reality of the matter is I like to do so many things that I don't have time to do them all, but the real reality is that I have so overwhelmed myself with tasks, chores, projects, hobbies, activities, travel, writing, music, exercise and "fill-in-the-blank" that I can't direct my attention to any one thing for any length of time. That being said, the final reality is that it has turned into "pencils down" on everything, just about.

Lunch.  This is not my best lunch face.

Not long ago I was unemployed for 6 months, but at the end of that 6 months I did find work and for the next 6 months, then I was employed again, (Note to employers: If you don't have enough work to keep your people busy, do not hire more). Fortunately, I am working again, full time, an hour from home. So what does this mean?  Well... let's take a look.

Through 7 months of unemployment, I accomplished very little though I was home 99% of the time. Oh sure I worked around the house, looked for jobs, scoured the internet for work, did 4 audiobooks and a host of other domestic duties. Did I write? Very little. I rode a bit... okay a lot. But did I Blog about it? No. Why? Well, the best answer I can give is the failure to drum up the inspiration to do so. Was I too depressed? Well, no, just not into it. I made attempts but they all fell short of completion. I call to your attention the tale of the Shelter Logic Motorcycle Shelter I was constructing in the last couple of blogs. I never did finish that story. Even though I said to myself time after time, I must write, I must write. That phrase eventually turned into "Meh".

.... to be continued.

The Mythical Sun

I have a solar powered hula girl on my desk.  Because of where she is, like my bicycles and my Harley, she gets little sun. What she does get, as does my bicycles and my Harley, is ambient light 

Now what this ambient light does is give her just enough power to allow her to let off with a little giggle every 5 seconds or so. What she is supposed to do is shake that thing like a hula girl should when she gets full sun.

Now my bikes, human and engine powered, will not wiggle at all. In fact, it pains me to say that I feel that they are mad at me when they do not see the sun or move.

There is only so much I can do in that respect.  The movement part I can do something about. The sun part.... well... that might require a physical relocation and that may happen at some point but at the moment, I am locked into a northeastern winter cold rainy snowy weather poo that engulfs the region. 

Things are changing though! Soon there will be a new 10'x10' shelter logic enclosure for the Harley which will allow it to breathe a little better and I'll post pictures of the progress of that in another posting. She may not be as sad with more room to sit around while we all wait for dryer, sunnier days.

In the meantime, my Zwift cycling buddies and I get to see things like London, Richmond and a fictitious place called Watopia where there is an active volcano and snow capped mountains to climb.....and a blimp.

This time of year... I wish to be above the road.

Winter blahs

So here I am in mid January, driving in my truck on the way home from work, which by the way, gets in the way of my otherwise rockstar lifestyle, and the only thoughts on my mind are:

A. Get on the bike, which is on the trainer, at home and do some miles tonight before I do an interview for the podcast.
B. I should've rode my motorcycle today since it was so nice out, only in the upper 40's but still, nice enough to ride.
C. The weather for the upcoming week looks like crap with temperatures in the upper 30s.

Although I have managed to maintain at least 50 to 100 miles per week on the bicycle trainer, indoors. It does a little to satisfy my need to put on good miles, both on the bicycle, and on the Harley. 

Speaking of which, my dear sweet Sugar, that's my Harley, has sat in the driveway covered and plugged in for the last month and a half. All I have managed is to start her up, check all the usual things and maybe take for a short trip down my dead end street. The weather has neither been acceptable nor cooperative enough for me to put in a significant ride. Unlike my bicycle, I cannot put my motorcycle on an indoor trainer of sorts, and ride it. That might create way too much toxic fumes,  it would be awfully loud and I doubt that the bike could fit inside my office.  I think the pets would object as well.

So this conundrum, that space, that we all experience and consume this time of year here in the Northeast of the United States, puts us all in a terrible state of moaning, groaning, bitching, complaining, and add your favorite negative adjective or expletive here. 

Topsider Resort, Islamorada, Florida Keys

Each evening when I turn on my computer and begin my usual slog through the barrage of emails and links I go through, more often than not, I see photographs and images of all types of men and women who are outdoors riding their motorcycles and their bicycles in fair  weather with blue skies and seemingly warm temperatures. All I can do is moan and let off with a disapproving grunt. Somewhere, deep down, I hate them. And this is nothing new, this is what we experience every year around the same time. And each year, we do nothing to improve that. Oh, we may vacation in some warm spot, spend hundreds and hundreds of dollars to rent a motorcycle or bicycle to bring us one week of joy and it only takes one day to see it washed down the drain the moment we step off whatever flight it is from whatever location, back into the dreary arctic environment.

This is the time of year when we always say to ourselves, "I'm really going to make an effort this year to write a lot more". And then we begin to peruse all the Internet sites looking for roads and destinations in warmer climates that we know, deep down, we know we will never see, not this year anyway.

So every few days, if you are like me, you go out to your motorcycle take off the cover, touch it, sit on it, start it up, check all the lights, beep the horn, rev it up a few times, and then shut it off. Then you cover it up, and go back in the house and sulk. If you're a cyclist, like I am, you have your bike seemingly welded to your indoor trainer and that's where remains until the slightest vestige of warm weather makes an appearance. Until such time, you will spend hours upon hours and miles upon miles riding in a virtual world giving "Thumbs Up" to your virtual cycling buddies on Zwift, to get yourself ready for the "riding season". The sad part about that is… Well… It's all sad.


So in closing, I want to thank all of the motorcycle and bicycle magazines and catalogs, all the motorcycle and bicycle ads, for teasing me and making me consider a move to a warmer climate. Enticing me to look at real estate in said warmer climate. By the way, you suck.

Signs

Several years ago, okay maybe 15 years ago, I was taking part in the Coast The Coast MS-170 Charity Bike Ride, which would raise money for Multiple Sclerosis, from Monmouth University in Long Branch, NJ to Cape May, NJ. A two-day event, that takes place every May, that would lead up to 500, or more, cyclists 170 miles along the Jersey Shore and through the famed Pine Barons. It is a great event, a great ride and we would battle heat, traffic, rain and worst of all, ferocious headwinds.

Local chapters of the Harley Davidson Owners Group would assist and provide traffic control, support and guidance along the way.  Those wishing to participate as a motorcyclist just need to contact the MS Bike office and they will hook you up. For the motorcyclist, it can be terribly boring. Some riders would simply get an intersection or turn or spot along the route and be told to just sit there and point cyclists in the right direction.  Other riders would ride the route as ride marshals and provide assistance if cyclists needed it.  I have often thought of doing this ride on my Harley, but something about sitting still for 3, 4 or 5 hours didn't appeal to me.  Anyway... I digress....

On day two, we were somewhere around Ocean City along the ocean and I came to a traffic light. I stopped as I should. There was no one to be seen left or right. A car pulled up to the light and stopped next to me. The passenger in the car looked at me and said "You're not really going to wait until the light turns green are you?". I looked him and said "Well yes, I'm on a two wheeled vehicle that is supposed to obey the same rules as you, so I do." He just replied with a "Cool" he gave me a thumbs up as the light turned green and they sped off.

...and green..... and go.... and green.....

I was faced with a similar situation on my ride last night. The light was red, there was no one coming and a car pulled up next to me.  I had to make a left this time and the driver waved me on.  I just said, "I'll wait. I'm in no hurry". The light turned green and we both shoved off in the same direction. He more quickly than I because, well, I was in no hurry.

It occurred to me the there is a lot of signage that we are supposed to pay attention to while we are out there on or in our vehicles and we are also supposed to maintain control of said vehicle while doing so. How are we supposed to take all of those instructions in AND pay attention to what we are doing AND not plow into a cyclist, pedestrian, utility pole or store front. We should all be required to have a co-driver with us at all times to help us navigate through the jungle of signage we are faced with, even on our lowly journey to the convenience store for a slurpee.

Thus far my ride took me east towards the ocean with no wind to speak of but I knew better since I consulted my riding buddy, Wunderground Weather App.  After I made the left at the light and began my crossing of the bridge that was right there at that left turn.  I saw a sign and I thought, it really didn't say that did it?  I knew I was going to go over a similar bridge a mile or so up, so if I saw it again I'd take a picture.  I was headed north at this point and the tail wind was glorious, two mile later I had to head east across the next bridge. Sure enough, the same sign was there.

Two of these things do not belong there.

I thought to myself, is this something we really need to worry about? Or have a sign to advise reasonably intelligent people not to do? Just the notion that anyone would act out crabbing off of a bridge, that's just insane! Absolute madness. What has our world come to that any person would even remotely consider crabbing, or God forbid, Fish off of a bridge like this.  People who would even think of crabbing off this bridge should be incarcerated and flogged with wet spaghetti. And what of this "Loitering"? I'm not sure what they are getting at, but I suspect is has something to do with clowns, ladders and perhaps cats. But whatever it is... do not do it on this or the other bridge when traveling through Point Pleasant, NJ. With regard to jumping and diving... I say go right ahead. Set up a booth, charge a dollar per jump and have at it. Look, the worse that could happen is somebody jumps off the bridge and lands on the deck of a boat next to a cooler full of beer. What I thought was interesting is that this sign makes no mention of NOT tossing water balloons off the bridge at the boats passing underneath. There I say is an invitation to fair game.

...sigh....

My ride now takes me south. INTO a stiff headwind. Armed with the knowledge at the beginning of the ride which way the wind was blowing, I voluntarily opted to ride south. Knowing full well that I would have the tail wind pushing me home.  I have, on occasion, done the exact opposite and have lived to regret that decision.  Late afternoon or evening rides often grant me the joy of a beautiful sunset or close to it over the Barnegat Bay waterways. It also tells me that I shouldn't lollygag or I will be arriving home in the dark with no headlight and just my blinking tail light. Seeing this sight as I rode along the bay waters somewhat lessened the headwind that was battering me to a pulp. Those who ride know that we will tackle, with our best effort and last breath, the tallest climb we can find or are placed at the foot of. But we cringe at the thought of the slightest headwind. A headwind, unlike a climb, has the ability to triple your effort, decrease your cadence and suck the life out or your already lactic acid burning legs AND offer no reward. At least with a climb, the reward is the arrival and if you're lucky, a killer decent.

Yes, Jersey Shore Restrooms.  So when you come to the Jersey shore, you must use these little blue rooms. They are everywhere. We are so backwards here, we don't even have septic fields or sewage systems and every house has one of these blue rooms out in front beside the road. Restaurants.... dozens of these things line their parking lots. The Mexican food places are banned from the seashore communities for just this reason. There is the downside of strong winds and colder temperatures. Nothing like seeing a half dozen little blue rooms sliding down the road at or near the speed limit with a screaming occupant inside. Terrifying to some, but absolutely hilarious to the rest of us. In the winter months it's the freezing of the... the... uh...."stuff" and no one has figured out how to make these things heated without creating a toxic cloud that would emanate from it's vent stack. Plus there is the disturbing "Splat" that one has to be concerned with. This is why in the winter months many of the residence hi-tail it out of town and rent their homes to unsuspecting college kids who don't know any better.

Even the wind obeys the law

At this point I have reached the turning point of my ride and what do I get to enjoy? A blazing tailwind that has me flying northbound along through the beachy communities and storefronts.  This also means I am dodging those white to beige colored beach stones you see when you go to the beach. A bicycles small tires have the ability to pinch one of these stones and turn it into a deadly projectile capable of breaking windows and scaring the bejesus out of pedestrians and dogs. People duck and cover when they here the "pop" of a tire on a stone. That sound is immediately followed by the sound of a ricocheting stone off of cars, windows and poles. Some end with the sound "Ow".

Traveling North at a brisk pace, I am now racing the sun, which has just touched the surface of the bay. I'm 10 miles or so from home and I have about 30 minutes to do it in or dark happens. I'm pacing at 25 and weaving around stones, storm grates, slower beach bikes and pine cones like a drunken sailor. The miles tick away.  The sun has dipped lower and I'm on borrowed time. I focus my efforts on pedaling in circles because you know, circles are better than squares and.... well... circles are more efficient... and... I need something to focus on because I'm tired. In two miles I have to turn left and ride through a crosswind and I know that will slow me down. Plus I know that I also have to make another left and head south for one mile before I hit the 3 mile westbound home stretch.  I ache.

Just before my turn, I stopped to take this picture.  This image has been in front of me for most of my ride and it was all I could do to not look at it with scrutiny.  Who designed this? Who thought that this image best represented a cyclist? Did someone at the Department of Transportation look at this and say "Yeah, that's a cyclist. Paint it all over the roads"? If I look like that on my bike, shoot me. Has the person who approved this design never seen a cyclist? Or know what a bike actually looks like? Or better yet know that cyclists heads are actually attached to their bodies and they do have feet and hands?  This is a fine example of the failure of form and a vague attempt at function. Thank heavens for the arrow that was just beyond the.... the... whatever or I would have been lost as to which way to go.  All I can say for certain is that when you come to the Jersey shore and want to ride your bike, beware of the man who jumps through hoops with a bowl on his decapitated head.

I turned left and entered the crosswind and it wasn't as bad as I expected it to be.  Up over the canal bridge and with a quick cadence I make it to my left turn into the wind. For the next half mile the wind seemed to increase and the sun seemed to set faster. My circles became squares and I labored that half mile over the last little bridge.  I made the right turn onto the home stretch, 3 miles to go.  I texted my wife those words so she would know that is the word to get dinner on.  The trees sheltering the road lessened the crosswind but now I was getting a mixture of all of it. Headwind, tailwind and crosswinds hit me one after the other as I passed by side streets, openings in the trees and nice views of the backwater areas and last bits of daylight. The sun had set, I'm operating on ambient light now. Cars have their headlights on. I push harder. The summer concert at Windward Beach park is in full swing and the pedestrians, bicycle and car traffic increase as I near it, pass through it and get away from it. Less than a mile to go. Much darker than I would prefer. The last sign was my street sign and a welcome sight at that. I rode past my house on the cool-down but it would be a short one because.... it was dark now. Another sign that I should get off the road.

Oh and by the way, if you come to the Jersey Shore, you don't actually have to use those little blue rooms, we do have indoor plumbing.