Seek Help

In my pride, I sometimes resist asking for help. But a needed lesson hit me back in the mid-1980s. Sheila and I went to visit her mom in Spearville, Kansas, just east of Dodge City, but with a surprise. Oh, she knew we were coming, but to avoid her worries we somehow forgot to mention we were riding our 1978 Honda Goldwing motorcycle. She saw us pull up out front, and joy and fear both danced across her face. And before the trip ended…

Read More

Of Mountains and Molehills

Several years back when we lived in Thousand Oaks, my wife celebrated the upcoming Mother’s Day with a few days away with a girlfriend, I figured to pop a surprise for her return: installing a new faucet for the master bathroom. Several complications soon arose. Previous owners had done some funky modifications to the old house over the years, and one was the drain trap, a strange conglomeration of plastic and brass and mismatched parts. The threads were stripped, and it took four trips to Home Depot to finally get the correct set up. Eventually I had to…

Read More

When Fear Cost Me a Beer

In God, a Motorcycle, and the Open Road, Chapter 3 told how I pulled into Groton, Connecticut, looking for a bar to view Nixon’s resignation during Watergate. If you have the book, pull out Chapter 3 to get the story in detail, but briefly, this long-haired hippie biker walked into what looked like a redneck bar, realized he better get out of Dodge, reversed course only to be accosted by a burly guy at the other end of the dark hallway, became VERY concerned, only to discover it wasn’t a burly guy, but my own reflection in a mirror. Yeah, one tough biker!

Then…

Read More

Plan for Plan B

Over the last five years or so, Brad proved himself as “the Wizard of Waze” on our Gray Hogs trips—he’d enter our ultimate destination, calculate in any traffic issues, add in some stops along the way, and we’d blissfully follow his lead, never worrying nor looking at our maps, just riding. We got spoiled, until…

Read More

Strange Goals, Strange Steps

Hyder, Alaska is a strange town: a United States town that uses Canadian money and the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for law enforcement. Even though you can only enter Hyder from Stewart, British Columbia, Canada, you need no passport to get in this sovereign US territory. Just to get out. And yes, it looked like a ghost town as Rich and I rode our bikes there on a foggy and drizzly morning. We saw none of the fourteen people who supposedly live there. But if you look carefully and…

Read More

Angel Wings

A few years back while living in the Conejo Valley, one Friday at about 6 AM I walked out to get the morning paper and found clear, calm blue skies, and a nicely temperate temperature. Why so many move to SoCal. By 10 AM, everything changed. The typical slight southwest wind reversed itself into a Santa Ana condition, a high gale coming from the northeast, with gusts up to 70 mph. And I was headed into the wind that afternoon, leaving for a…

Read More

Angel Wings

A few years back while living in the Conejo Valley, one Friday at about 6 AM I walked out to get the morning paper and found clear, calm blue skies, and a nicely temperate temperature. Why so many move to SoCal. By 10 AM, everything changed. The typical slight southwest wind reversed itself into a Santa Ana condition, a high gale coming from the northeast, with gusts up to 70 mph. And I was headed into the wind that afternoon, leaving for a…

Read More