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| techtalk:ref:quostor06 [2020/01/26 10:23] – [A Chat With A Whitebeard - An Epic Tale] ixl2relax | techtalk:ref:quostor06 [2024/01/20 21:30] (current) – hippysmack | ||
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| Mosey relates in his own gripping style the fantastic stories of Ray, a white-bearded motorcycle lover. | Mosey relates in his own gripping style the fantastic stories of Ray, a white-bearded motorcycle lover. | ||
| - | The XLForum thread is here: http:// | + | The XLForum thread is here: https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| The thread starts on July 25, 2014 (thru June10, 2015). As of January, 2020, it has 85,541 views. | The thread starts on July 25, 2014 (thru June10, 2015). As of January, 2020, it has 85,541 views. | ||
| + | |||
| + | In order to be able to link into the middle of the story, it has been (arbitrarily) headered into sections.\\ | ||
| + | {{: | ||
| + | {{: | ||
| + | {{: | ||
| + | {{: | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Be sure to look for the part of the story where Ray competes at Bonneville and meets Burt Munro, rides\\ | ||
| + | one of Craig Breedlove' | ||
| + | with Cal Rayborn, the times he raced up Pike's Peak and the day Arthur Davidson came to see him. | ||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| Mosey encouraged others to reveal their own stories encountering older riders with tales to tell.\\ | Mosey encouraged others to reveal their own stories encountering older riders with tales to tell.\\ | ||
| Click here for the ' | Click here for the ' | ||
| - | In order to be able to link into the middle | + | \\ |
| + | |||
| + | **REALLY SAD NEWS** | ||
| + | On November 9, 2023, around 6:40 p.m., a fatal traffic collision took place between a 1992, White, BMW, traveling at a high rate of speed, and a 2008 Harley-Davidson motorcycle that was ridden by Mosey. He was pronounced dead at the scene. The perpetrator was caught days later trying | ||
| + | |||
| + | [[xlforum.net/ | ||
| + | |||
| + | {{ : | ||
| \\ | \\ | ||
| Line 25: | Line 45: | ||
| \\ | \\ | ||
| - | ====== Mosey' | + | ====== Mosey' |
| \\ | \\ | ||
| Line 56: | Line 76: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 26th July 2014 (http:// | + | 26th July 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 71: | Line 91: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 16th August 2014 (http:// | + | 16th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 100: | Line 120: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 20th August 2014 (http:// | + | 20th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 113: | Line 133: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | (http:// | + | (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 120: | Line 140: | ||
| A Prelude\\ | A Prelude\\ | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = |
| As the rear wheel spun, I watched the sprocket engaging the chain. The chain was riding a bit close to the left-hand side plates. A quick adjustment had the chain running true on the sprocket and I sat on the concrete behind my Sporty and just spun the wheel a few times. | As the rear wheel spun, I watched the sprocket engaging the chain. The chain was riding a bit close to the left-hand side plates. A quick adjustment had the chain running true on the sprocket and I sat on the concrete behind my Sporty and just spun the wheel a few times. | ||
| Line 131: | Line 151: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 23rd August 2014 (http:// | + | 23rd August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 139: | Line 159: | ||
| Concerto | Concerto | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ |
| - | "The time has come," the Walrus said, | + | "The time has come," the Walrus said,\\ |
| - | "To talk of many things: | + | "To talk of many things:\\ |
| - | Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax-- | + | Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--\\ |
| - | Of cabbages--and kings-- | + | Of cabbages--and kings--\\ |
| - | And why the sea is boiling hot-- | + | And why the sea is boiling hot--\\ |
| - | And whether pigs have wings." | + | And whether pigs have wings." |
| Lewis Carroll\\ | Lewis Carroll\\ | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = |
| The sharp eyes looked at me and the words filtered through the wild, white beard, "So, whattaya do for a living?" | The sharp eyes looked at me and the words filtered through the wild, white beard, "So, whattaya do for a living?" | ||
| Line 190: | Line 210: | ||
| Now I'm not one to get in between a hungry man and his dinner. I like my appendages. Ray and I shook hands and I asked, like a gentleman, if next week would be a good time to visit. He showed me a full set of white choppers that split his beard. "You bet! I'll be waitin' | Now I'm not one to get in between a hungry man and his dinner. I like my appendages. Ray and I shook hands and I asked, like a gentleman, if next week would be a good time to visit. He showed me a full set of white choppers that split his beard. "You bet! I'll be waitin' | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ |
| The old Ironhead sounded particularly good - deep and resonant with a good dose of healthy crackle as I got on the throttle. Damn, ya gotta love a sweet-runnin' | The old Ironhead sounded particularly good - deep and resonant with a good dose of healthy crackle as I got on the throttle. Damn, ya gotta love a sweet-runnin' | ||
| - | "I weep for you," the Walrus said: | + | "I weep for you," the Walrus said:\\ |
| - | "I deeply sympathize." | + | "I deeply sympathize." |
| - | With sobs and tears he sorted out | + | With sobs and tears he sorted out\\ |
| - | Those of the largest size, | + | Those of the largest size,\\ |
| - | Holding his pocket-handkerchief | + | Holding his pocket-handkerchief\\ |
| - | Before his streaming eyes. | + | Before his streaming eyes.\\ |
| Lewis Carroll\\ | Lewis Carroll\\ | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = |
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 26th August 2014 (http:// | + | 26th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 213: | Line 233: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 26th August 2014 (http:// | + | 26th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 224: | Line 244: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 26th August 2014 (http:// | + | 26th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 257: | Line 277: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 29th August 2014 (http:// | + | 29th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 272: | Line 292: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 29th August 2014 (http:// | + | 29th August 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 340: | Line 360: | ||
| A couple of the watching elders shook their heads in disapproval but most of 'em were smiling and nodding. One sweet old lady was clapping her hands in delight. I was kinda overwhelmed and pleased at their reaction. Kickstarting a motorsickle can be rewarding on many levels. | A couple of the watching elders shook their heads in disapproval but most of 'em were smiling and nodding. One sweet old lady was clapping her hands in delight. I was kinda overwhelmed and pleased at their reaction. Kickstarting a motorsickle can be rewarding on many levels. | ||
| - | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ |
| I stopped by my friend' | I stopped by my friend' | ||
| Line 353: | Line 373: | ||
| Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| - | 12th September 2014 (http:// | + | 12th September 2014 (https://www.xlforum.net/ |
| ======================================\\ | ======================================\\ | ||
| Line 360: | Line 380: | ||
| ====== Mosey' | ====== Mosey' | ||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | **Is This Really The True Story of the XLCH?** | ||
| + | |||
| + | After getting home from work and typing those words about the birth of the fabled and beloved XLCH, I realized that I had to find out more or I would spend the weekend wondering. So I jumped on the Sporty, my favorite 'round town steed, and rode up to the convalescent home. | ||
| + | |||
| + | When I got there Ray was enjoying a smoke in the gazebo. I parked up and joined him in the shade. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Damn hot, ain't it?" Ray asked as I walked up. A hunnerd and five and freakishly high humidity here in SoCal. Yeah, it's hot. "I wasn't expecting to see you today. wasn't you here just last Tuesday?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah, but I just couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "You do like your Sportys, doncha?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | I grinned sheepishly. "Ya got me there." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray proceeded to tell me about the day in 1957 when he was in the local Harley dealership and saw the coolest Sportster that he had ever seen sitting in the service area. It was stripped to the bone - the heavy battery gone, with a magneto ignition and the big tank replaced with the iconic Hummer tank. | ||
| + | |||
| + | He asked about it and was told that it was a prototype for the new Sportsters made just for the California dealers. Ray said that the Cali dealers were certain that there was a market for a leaner, meaner Sportster. The Factory mandated a minimum number of machines and apparently a group of California dealers bought the minimum order. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So the Factory inserted the letter C into the XLH to denote the California models. Then the rest of the country wanted in on the act and suddenly they were everywhere." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "But I heard that the C stood for Competition." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I dunno. I can only tell ya what I saw. That was a bad-ass Sporty. I wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | So there ya have it. Take it or leave it, this is as good as any story that I have heard about the beginnings of the XLCH. As I put my motorsickle away I couldn' | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 12th September 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | I mentioned a couple pages back that I know who Ray is by doing a little research with race dates that he provided. He didn't want me posting his pic at present so i figures that he wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Just wanna protect the man's privacy so I have not mentioned specific dates or places that might help someone dig up Ray's identity. I'll tell ya this: His real first name is Ray and he's a seriously cool old dude. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I cannot vouch for the veracity of any of his stories but when I hear him talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | "I can always tell when yer comin' to visit." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I glanced up. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I must hear a hunnerd bikes pass by each day and yer like the only one that downshifts properly." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Oh, you mean the blip?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah that twist of the throttle means a whole lot to me. Little things like that separate the guys that know their machines from the ones that just don't get it. When I hear that I know this guy is tuned in to his bike." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I grinned a little thinking of the "Do you blip when you downshift" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "When I hear ya shifting through the gears and that V-twin howling I know it's time to get moving and get my brain in gear. I came outside so we could sit here in the shade. You don't seem to be the kinda fella' that likes being cooped up inside." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "On target, Ray. Ya got me pegged. I can't stand boxes. We live in boxes and then most people drive a box to work. Then they go inside and work for eight hours in another box, drive the box back to the box they sleep in." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray laughed heartily, his face flushing. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Alls I'm tryin' to do is get outta those damned boxes, Ray. Ridin' is my way out of the box." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I do know what ya mean. I never felt so free as when I was all alone out in the desert on my motorcycle. Man, I felt alive!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | His eyes glittered and narrowed as he remembered, his mind and heart seeing the wide open of the arid landscape. The gnarled, old hands sitting in his lap fluttered and tightened as if gripping the bars. A slow grin spread across his face and he just drifted for a long moment. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The time drew out in a wordless expanse until Ray snapped back to the here and now. The lids of his eyes lifted and he turned his gaze back to me. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yer a good guy. Don't ever let those bastards corner ya and stick ya in a box." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I won't Ray. At least not 'til I'm dead." We both laughed, sharing our little joke. "Hell, maybe not even then." | ||
| + | |||
| + | We talked for a while about off-road four wheeled vehicles. He was really into those wild tube-framed dune buggies. He sure wasn't referring to a Manx dune buggy. He laughed a derisively when I mentioned Manx. "I ain't talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | He started with VW power but soon switched to Porsche motors. Talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | He spoke of working with his friend, Parnelli Jones!, to develop suspension for their off-road buggies. How they finally got Fox shocks to build exactly what they wanted. How the whole sport changed once their machines got some decent suspenders. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I told Ray a dirty joke and we both laughed. "You sure are a happy guy, Mosey. I'm glad ya take the time to come visit me." He looked at me with squinted eyes. "Why does a guy like you bother to visit an old man like me?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Cuz I like ya, Ray. And I enjoy the time I spend with you. It's just that simple." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well you sure are a bright spot in my week." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I shuffled my boots in the dust. "Same for me, Ray, Same for me." Looking up, I stuck out my hand. "See ya later, buddy." | ||
| + | |||
| + | We shook on it, I gathered up my helmet and gloves, fired up the Sporty and rode out, giving Ray the high sign. His wave followed me down the road for a long, long time. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 30th September 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | "Can I have a gander at that?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | He reached out a hand across the table, the fingers long and strong, the skin like parchment paper but without a trace of shakiness. I dropped a chunk of hash the size and shape of a goose egg, but as black as my heart, in his palm. Those long fingers closed over it like the jaws of a wolf trap. | ||
| + | |||
| + | He looked long and hard at the resiny bit of goodness. From his expression you woulda thought he was regarding an incredibly large and valuable diamond. He sniffed and his wrinkled face broke into a toothy show of appreciation. "This takes me way back. I ain't seen nuthin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Tear off a chunk and then you can really appreciate the aroma." | ||
| + | |||
| + | The well-aged fingers squeezed the hash and his smile broadened. "This is soft." He held the hash to his nose. His eyes widened." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I nodded. "Yeah, I saw that a few times." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So where is this from? Lebanon? Morocco? It looks and smells like the sheesh we got back in the Sixties and Seventies." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " It ain't from Morocco or Lebanon or India. Nope. I made it in my kitchen" | ||
| + | |||
| + | He looked up from regarding the hash in hand. "No way!" He saw the expression on my face. "Yer not kidding, are you?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "No way, Ray." I said. " I wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Now I'm really looking forward to trying it. Ya make yer own hashish? Damn. Yer an unusual feller, Mosey." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well Ray, I would hafta agree and the best part is I really don't need to work at it. It just comes natcherly." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray handed back the hash, a bit reluctantly, | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Shut up Ray. I didn't come here for thanks, I'm here to hear you talk about the Isle of Man, dammit!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, like how did ya even get to go? From what little I know, it's really hard to even get a chance to ride there." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah, those Brits don't really like letting outsiders into their game." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So? Make with the facts, wouldya?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Okay, okay. I was wrenching at the Harley dealership in San Diego. I has been racing a lot and winning most of 'em. Dirt, roadracing, whatever. And one day old man Davidson was in the shop and he came up to me and said, 'I hear yer a pretty good racer. do you want to race for us?' I about fell over, but I somehow managed a yessir!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Are you kidding? Arthur Davidson?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yep. So after a couple years on the Factory team, I qualified for my International Racing License and I got sent to race on the Island." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "For some reason I thought you were a privateer and running a Triumph." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Naw, I was riding a K-model." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I blurted out, "A K-model?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | We need to pause for a moment, Dear Reader, as your Humble Narrator got a little freaked out by the next couple sentences that Ray uttered. I have never heard this tidbit of HD lore and I truly hope that Patrick or one of the other resident K-model experts will chime in as to the validity or ridiculousity of Ray's next statement. Now Dear readers, back to the narrative...\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yup. And they weren' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I was incredulous. "A 650, one-cylinder K-model? Was it faired in?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Nah, just a open bike. It was a lot of fun to ride but hard to start. Damn that thing was a bitch to start." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray's attention wandered to a pretty nurse that was walking past. We chatted for a while longer about Ray's aluminum-bodied AC Cobra (He yanked out the original 289 and shoehorned in a 427 just for kicks!) and his old Cheetah with a small block Chevy 350. It sounded like old Ray really loved both those cars. That old dude really digs his toys - and the faster the better! | ||
| + | |||
| + | I could tell that Ray was getting tired so I bid him a fond farewell and rode my old Shovelhead outta the parking lot. After a couple miles I pulled off the road and just sat in the dirt next to my old Harley smoking a fat joint and thinking about how lucky i was to have met Ray. Life is good. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Well, Dear Reader, we also talked about Bonneville...\\ | ||
| + | but that's for the next installment.\\ | ||
| + | You ain't gonna wanna miss that, lemme tell ya!\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 12th October 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | I'd play the Red River Valley\\ | ||
| + | And he'd sit out in the kitchen and cry\\ | ||
| + | And run his fingers through seventy years of livin' | ||
| + | And wonder, "Lord, has ever' well I've drilled run dry?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | We were friends, me and this old man\\ | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man was watching me intently as I rode across the parking lot. The Sportster was feeling kinda frisky and maybe, just maybe, I was going a little fast for the conditions, but...what the hell? Ya gotta live a little, right? | ||
| + | |||
| + | As the bump in the driveway approached I stood up on the pegs and goosed the throttle. The Ironhead motor purred and gathered herself under me like a responsive horse, muscles bunching, preparing to jump. The front wheel hit the bump and followed a predictable trajectory. My little silver Sporty was airborne! Just for a moment, but what a glorious fraction of my life. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Without conscious thought, my right hand feathered the throttle and the tires hit the ground almost in unison. I grabbed the brakes hard and slid to a stop in the dirt. I flashed my best Tom Cruise/ | ||
| + | |||
| + | I put the kickstand down, turned off the petcock, gave her one last rev and shut 'er down. His sharp, blue eyes followed every move I made. He was sitting in a heavily upholstered chair carefully placed in the shade of a towering eucalyptus tree, stroking his long, white beard and watching me walk toward him. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | He's a drifter and a driller of oil wells\\ | ||
| + | And an old school man of the world\\ | ||
| + | He let me drive his car\\ | ||
| + | When he's too drunk to\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | And he'd wink and give me money for the girls\\ | ||
| + | And our lives were like some old western movie\\ | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | From the time that I could walk he'd take me with him\\ | ||
| + | To a bar called the Green Frog Cafe\\ | ||
| + | There were old men with beer guts and dominos\\ | ||
| + | Lying 'bout their lives while they'd played\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | And I was just a kid\\ | ||
| + | They all called his " | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So whats the fastest that you've ever gone on a motorcycle?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Aw c'mon Mosey, I saw you ridin' into the lot just now. I know for sure that you've gone for it." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I told him about a time that I rowed through the gears until there weren' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray was smiling and nodding while I spoke. The gears turning in his head were audible from across the parking lot, so I asked, "Tell me Ray, what's the fastest you've ever gone?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | His eyes got cloudy and distant as he leaned back in the big, comfortable chair. The grin faded a bit, a shadow of concentration passed over Ray's sun and his hands instinctively wandered, a tad shakily, up to stroke the long whiskers, smoothing the wild hairs as the breeze ruffled across him. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | One day I looked up and he's pushin' | ||
| + | And there' | ||
| + | To me he's one of the heroes of this country\\ | ||
| + | So why's he all dressed up like them old men\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "In a row?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yup. Fifteen years in a row I went to Bonneville, Run the salt. See how fast I could go." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yer talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, imagine sliding yourself into a metal tube, laying flat on yer back with a motor screaming a couple inches behind your head and watching the world through a little bitty screen between yer toes. It's amazing what a man will do if he really wants go fast." With nicotine stained fingers, Ray lit a Pall Mall and took a long drag. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "The first couple years, I rode regular motorbikes. Ya know, ones that I done a lot of hop up work on, but still regular motorcycles. Then I got bit by the streamliner bug. I was working with a guy you might have heard of, his name was Breedlove." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I looked at Ray and interrupted. I blurted out, "Craig Breedlove? The fastest man on earth? Uhhhh, yeah. I've heard of him." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray chuckled. "I got to drive one of his early machines and once I felt the power and possibilities of that streamliner...well...it was a done deal for me. I hadta have one of them things. So I went home and started building. Planning and building for next year and the next year. And the next year. It just never stopped. It was sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | What the hell? | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Aw hell, Mosey. That wasn't even a record setting run. It didn't get my name in any record books but it set a record for me. I never became famous or nuthin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Drinkin' | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | Like desperados waitin' | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Poetry courtesy of Guy Clark\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 26th October 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | As I pulled in the clutch lever to downshift for the railroad tracks, I felt more than heard the pop as the ferrule on the end of the cable gave up the good fight. With the lever flapping uselessly against the left grip I firmly nudged the gear selector down and felt second gear engage. Double bump and the tracks were behind me. Open road ahead. The old Harley gearbox accepted my upshifts without a complaint. Vroom, snick, vroom. Oh yeah. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Let's see...my clutch cable is busted, I live in the middle of the heavily trafficked San Fernando Valley, riding a motorsickle is dangerous enough when everything is working the way it should...hmmmm. Should I go home? | ||
| + | |||
| + | Hell no! I'm on my way to see Ray!! A stupid broken clutch cable isn't gonna stop me. Not now. I'm more than halfway there...ain' | ||
| + | |||
| + | By carefully timing my approaches I'm able to slip through every single traffic light without coming to a stop and before too long I'm pulling into the parking lot of the convalescent home. I get real lucky and somehow ease the old dog into neutral. Whew...that wasn't so bad...but I'm really not looking forward to the ride home. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The area under the trees is fulla old folks out enjoying the warm November afternoon. They sit on their chairs and I run the gantlet. By now, most of 'em are used to my visits and they look up greeting me with nods and handshakes. I take a moment with each one, "Hey Dave, hows the hip feeling?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | After making my way down the line finally I get to Ray, sitting in the gazebo, stroking his luxuriant beard and looking for all the world like a potentate on his throne. Like a regal old biker holding court. I grinned at the old man and he motioned me closer. I drew up a chair and sat down with my friend. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | So, we'll go no more a roving\\ | ||
| + | So late into the night,\\ | ||
| + | Though the heart be still as loving,\\ | ||
| + | And the moon be still as bright.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Been a while." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah. I'm working double shifts right now." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "What the hell would a good looking young feller like you be working that much? You should be out chasin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, if it makes ya feel any better about my work schedule Ray, I'm doing all this for a woman." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "My Mom." The devilish grin softened and became an expression of maternal longing. Hell, even an eighty-five year old man misses his mother sometimes. "She needs a little help and I'm glad to do sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "No shit? Where did it happen?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I been thinkn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | For the sword outwears its sheath,\\ | ||
| + | And the soul wears out the breast,\\ | ||
| + | And the heart must pause to breathe,\\ | ||
| + | And love itself have rest.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | After a while Ray sez, "So I was out riding my Black Shadow..you know what a Black Shadow is Mosey?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Of course. The Vincent is one of my top three bikes. Gotta love the frameless, hotrod motorcycle. And that gigantic, frying pan for a speedometer. Classic." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, it musta been 1964 or '65. I was riding and I stopped to help out a guy sitting by the side of the road with a motorcycle. Turns out he didn't need any help. He was just taking a break on a long ride. We shared a joint and shot the shit for a while 'til he says to me. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Lemme tell ya Mosey, I don't usually let people ride my bikes, especially strangers. And this guy was a real character. Long hair, big beard, kinda scruffy, riding a kinda beat-looking chopper. But for some reason...I said yes." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray wasn't looking at me any more. His eyes were distant as he relived the memory. " We rode along for prob' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray paused to light a Pall Mall, working hard to get a flame against the quartering breeze. He puffed contentedly and continued. "Flash forward to the next summer and me and my girlfriend are relaxing in a campground. We're sitting by the fire planning where we're gonna take the dune buggies the next day when we hear motorcycles approaching. Harleys. A lot of ' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Forty or fifty bikes pull into the campground and set up next to us. My girlfriend is kinda freaked out when she sees that they are Hell's Angels. I tell her to be cool. Well, within a few minutes bikers are walking into our campsite and taking firewood and chairs and stuff. My girlfriend is holdin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The ember glows as Ray inhales. He slowly blows out a thin stream of smoke through pursed lips. "So about the time that my blood was starting to boil a couple more bikes, followed by a pickup truck and a couple cars, pulled into the campground. I heard some shouting and a couple minutes later the same bikers that took my stuff started returning it, mumbling sheepish apologies, before heading back to their camp." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well after a little while, he goes back to his camp and a few minutes later, two Angels walk over and give us a couple big T-bone steaks and a cooler fulla beer. Now that was an ending that I sure didn't expect." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So Mosey, what are ya gonna do about that clutch?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | A pile of trash, some of it broken auto parts and what appeared to be metal shelving was visible in the dumpster of a nearby muffler shop. I wandered over and asked the attendant if I could do a little dumpster diving after explaining my plight. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Ya ain't gonna find any clutch parts in there," | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah, I know. But I might find sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | A little digging rewarded me with a piece of metal about sixteen inches long with a hole in it four inches from one end. A car mirror gave up a couple strips of duct tape that had been used to hold it onto the car. I walked back to Ray carrying my prizes. The guy from the muffler shop watched as I got to work on my bike. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "What the hell ya gonna do with that?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | I stripped the sheathing off and threaded the cable through the hole in the metal bracket, then slid it down until it was almost touching the adjuster where it enters the primary cover. After kinking the cable so it wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now I had a lever with which to activate my clutch. Crude and difficult to use, but it would work. By pushing forward on the lever, the cable would pull out, the ramp would rotate and the balls would do their magic dance. Yee haw! Of course, I would hafta lean forward and down to use the clutch but I don't mind a little fancy riding. Whatever does the trick, right? | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray shook his head. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now that was a true compliment. I managed a wry, little smile but inside I was beaming, proud, fit to bust. Ray says I'm alright! Aw shucks. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray watched as I tested it out in the parking lot. Not easy to use, downright difficult to be honest with ya Dear Reader, but manageable. I pulled up by Ray and with the motor idling and the front wheel dancing in the dust, we said our farewells. I dropped the trans into first using my improvised clutch lever and Ray clapped me on the back. "If ya don't fall off..." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Though the night was made for loving,\\ | ||
| + | And the day returns too soon,\\ | ||
| + | Yet we'll go no more a roving\\ | ||
| + | By the light of the moon.\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | Lord Byron\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 17th November 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Ya ever have one of those days? | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ya know the kinda day when you're on yer feet all friggin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Man, it was one of them kinda days fer sure. I felt beat and disgusted with it all - I just wanna get a break dammit! What the hell am I gonna do? | ||
| + | |||
| + | I'm gonna go see Ray! | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | We shot the breeze for a few, how-ya-beens and whatcha-up-tos, | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Hell yeah! Hit me Ray." | ||
| + | |||
| + | It was in '67 or '68 and I rode up to Oregon to see this hippie chick that I met in San Francisco. She was livin' in a cabin up in the mountains and had been writing me letters telling me how cool it was - all green and mountains and streams and everything." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I got to thinking that a break from the city would be just what I needed so I strapped a sleeping bag to my Shovelhead and hit the road. I was bored on I-5 mosta the way north, but once I hit Eugene and headed up into the mountains I was really enjoying the ride. Twisting through Douglas fir trees and following this wild, river..." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "That would be the MacKenzie River. I know it well." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah. My old stomping grounds. I've fished up and down that river. Salmon, steelhead, trout. Good memories, Ray" | ||
| + | |||
| + | He chuckled through his beard, pleased to have mentioned sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Took a while, lotsa wrong turns up dirt and gravel roads, but at last I found the girl. Like she said, she was living in this cool old log cabin way up in the woods and there was a stream running past about fifty feet from the door. I could see the fish in the clear, cold water just waiting to be caught. She showed me the hot springs that had been dug out and lined with rocks. perfect for soaking the ache from my motorsickle-weary muscles. The air was crisp and clean smelling. The sun shone down, the girl was beautiful in her little hippie dress and bare feet, smiling an invitation at me. You know what I'm talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "And then all her damned hippie friends showed up. A battered old Volkswagen van bumped up the rutted, rocky excuse of a driveway and a bunch of dirty, hairy people climbed out. Are you shittin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "You hate hippies, doncha Ray?" I laughed. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, let's just say most of 'em ain't worth one hard-working real man. After a couple days of those freaks smokin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I was planning on spending a week or ten days just hangin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I found a bar in a little town just down the road a piece. It was a crazy place fulla my kinda people: lumberjacks in those boots with all the spikes in the soles - I think they call 'em "cork boots" or sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I smiled inside thinking about Ray's strange fascination with double-dicked dawgs. Crazy old coot! | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well I hung out with these good old boys and gals until they closed the bar and threw us all out. We stood in the parking lot for a while passing around a bottle but eventually everyone wandered off and I kickstarted my bike. I was feeling a little frisky so I remember peeling out in the parking lot and slinging gravel as I left. The warm, summer night air felt good as I headed outta the dark little town and turned onto the highway." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Old Ray leaned back in his chair and stroked his beard. "It was going great and I was makin' good time back down that hill, headed for Eugene, civilization, | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Until I came to an uphill section and I had to get off and push. It wasn't very steep but it seemed to go on forever. It was prob' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now lemme tell ya Dear Reader, I was not expecting a Greek mythology reference in the middle of a good motorsickle story. Ray always brings a surprise or two. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So when I pushed that heavy machine around a corner and saw that the road was downhill, I practically fell on my knees in gratitude. Well...that and sheer exhaustion. I jumped in the saddle and let 'er rip. As it rolled along it gained some speed until I was tearing along at ten or fifteen miles per but after pushing it felt like flying." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "The stretch of road was different than what I had been on before. I previously had the mountainside on my right and the river visible on the left, but here the road veered away from the river and cut through a stand old tall, old-growth Douglas fir trees. The trees were tall and black and the road ran dead straight through them to emerge in the moonlight about a mile distant. It was kinda strange riding through the blackness between those two hunnerd foot tall trees. They blocked the moonlight completely and it was eerie rolling silently along." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "At the far end where the asphalt was bright with moonlight i saw a figure standing in the middle of the road. 'What the hell?' I muttered. Why is someone standing in the middle of the highway? Maybe there a broken down car or an accident or sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Now at this point I should figured sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "My mind clicked into overdrive and ran through my options. There weren' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "My drunken fog was receding as fast as the bear was approaching. He looked ten feet tall standing there and he drew himself up even taller as I got closer. Oh God I don't want to end this fine evening with a bear knocking me off my Harley, dragging me into the woods and gnawing on my skull. Puhleeze God, I ain't never asked for much but for the sake of all that is good and holy please save my scroungy ass from that there bear!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I laughed out loud. Ray shot me a sidelong glance and forged on. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "The bear was reaching for me so I feinted, swerving the bike toward the right. Old Mister bear followed right so I swerved back to the left and popped the clutch. The bear let out a grunting bark and lunged at me paws extended when the Shovel motor caught and roared to life. I could clearly see the claws, long and deadly, swiping through the air just outta reach of my face as I flashed past. With his rank breath in my nostrils I shifted into third and would 'er out. I ran 'er as long as the gas lasted and the bear was far behind. Well...not far enough to keep me from checking the mirror as I coasted almost all the rest of the way to Springfield. I was sure that Mister Bear was hot on my trail, mad as hell and hungry from my flesh." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I even woke up in the middle of the night in my motel room absolutely certain that the bear was in the bathroom waiting to eat my heart. I've dreamed about that incident many times over the years. it was a night ride that I will never forget." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "And now I won't forget it either. That's a helluva a story." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray dug a cig outta the battered pack of Pall Malls and, with hands that trembled the tiniest bit, he stuck it in his piehole. I lit a match and leaned in close, holding the flame as he puffed away. "That was a great story Ray. Thanks" | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Well, Dear Reader, that's alls I got for now. Stay safe and warm, hope ya have good things to smoke and drink and loved ones to share them with. All y'all be good and don't forget...if ya don't fall off, yer not going fast enough!\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | 14th December 2014 (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| \\ | \\ | ||
| - | [[: | + | ====== Mosey' |
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | If anyone would like to send Ray a Christmas card, drop me a PM for my address and I'll see to it that he get's yer holiday well-wishes. He would be pleased as punch, I'm certain. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | Thanks again to everyone that responded to the Cards For Ray idea. Everybody give yerselves a pat on the back and a big slice of raisin pie! I'll let ya know about the visit with a sackfulla yer cards. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Thought all y'all might like to see what Old Ray is gettin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | {{: | ||
| + | |||
| + | Kinda crude but whaddya expect from a guy with a hammer and a nail? The plan is to make a belt to go with the buckle. Gonna tool the logos from the different factory teams that Ray rode for: HD, Kawasaki, Suzuki, and his favorite bikes: Vincent, BSA and Triumph. | ||
| + | |||
| + | BTW, the friend that gave me the piston said it was from a three cylinder Trumpet racing motor. Just seemed perfect for Ray. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | **Mosey' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Like a freight train a hunnerd cars long, fully loaded and ballin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I woke feeling restless, the wind clawing at the walls of my shack, and by the weird blue glow of my bedside alarm clock I could see it was four AM - hours before I needed to be up and at 'em. I rolled over and remembered my task for the next day - go visit Ray, play Santa and deliver a buncha cards from my motorcycling brothers. Cards from folks that he's never met. Cards fulla good wishes and season' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I smiled, pulled the covers a little closer and drifted back to sleep knowing what the morrow would bring. Let the wind howl and moan, I'm gonna dream my two-wheeled dream. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | The wind was still playing cat and mouse through the suburban jungle as I rolled the big orange Harley into the noonday sun. I eased it onto the jiffy stand and stepped back to eyeball the scoot. The old Shovel sure looked good, it's chrome and polished aluminum winking in the bright Christmas sunshine, the decades old Competition Orange paint gleaming in spite of the years. I smiled and went in the house. I gathered up my leathers and helmet, grabbed the worn leather saddlebags fulla cards and locked up the compound. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Slinging the bags over the rear fender, I climbed into the saddle and kickstarted the old machine. The boom of internal combustion echoed off the concrete walls and razor wire surrounding the SFV headquarters of the Mosey empire. I grinned maniacally listening to the waves of sound roiling around me. Today is gonna be a good day.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Wow! You look like a movie star!!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Oh you." She took my hand. "You sure know how to make a girl's Christmas." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now it was my turn to blush a little as this octogenarian batted her blue eyes at me. She reached out, laid her palm on my cheek and said, "Your lucky there' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Just then the convalescent home director, and affable Asian dude named Jim, strolled up and saved me from the tender clutches of my elderly movie starlet. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Movie star Phyllis gave me a quick peck on the cheek. She smelled of lilac perfume. "If I only had some mistletoe..." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Come on Phyllis." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Let me call Ray for you. I think he's in his room." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "If he's resting don't bother him, I can come back later." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "No, You wait right there, I'm sure he would want to see you. Jim turned and headed for the office. Over his shoulder he said, " He would be upset if he knew you were here and we didn't call him. Your his best friend." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I stood there in the lobby between the grand piano and the potted ficus tree feeling humbled and honored by Jim's last remark. Wow! It's cool that anyone thinks that I might be Ray's best friend. I've just moved a couple rungs up on the ladder. The view is a lot better from up here. Hope I don't get all light-headed from the thin air. | ||
| + | |||
| + | A short time later the elevator doors opened and Ray shambled out into the wood panelled hall. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray, shuffling slowly, walked me over to a pair of chairs in a quiet corner and we settled in. Old folks drifted past us to congregate in the lobby in groups where they dispersed to parts unknown within the large building. Apparently there is always sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | We talked about the usual things - how'd ya like the big wind, how's the motorbike runnin', | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So what's the fastest you've gone?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I dunno for sure Ray. When I was much younger and a little dumber I buried the needle on a hunnerd and forty mile per hour speedo one time. so I guess maybe a hundred and fifty or so." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Damn Ray, I can only imagine how that would feel, but my ass is clenchin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray's eyes got a vague, faraway look as he stared out the window. I'm sure he was seeing far expanses of shimmering salt baking in the relentless sunlight of Utah instead of the well-manicured lawns and carefully pruned eucalyptus trees outside the glass. I'm certain that he was listening to the howl of a well-tuned motor at max revs instead of the low mutter of an old folks home. We sat in silence for a long ,o,emt. | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | A little caught off-guard I replied, "Uhh, a buck fitty, a hunnerd and fifty maybe. Why do you ask?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | A moment of silence as Ray looks down. He lifts his head and smiles. "So how ya been?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | I pull out the saddlebag and we proceed to go through the contents. As each envelope was opened and Ray examined the contents, turning them over in his gnarled hands, his smile got bigger and bigger. He would hand each to me asking me to read it to him. he wanted to know where each and every letter and card was from. "Are you kidding me Mosey, a card from London?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, it's from London, Ontario. Up in Canada." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, that is damned cool!" Ray said with a boyish grin. I grinned as well thinking about Iron Mick dropping that selfsame card in the mailbox. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray opened envelopes with return addresses from all over the world - the USA made a great showing and so did some far flung points of the globe. Ray got cards from Germany, Australia, the Philippines, | ||
| + | |||
| + | He looked at me with an obvious sense of amazement and asked how I kept in touch with all these people. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I use my home computer. It's easy with the internet to let people all over the globe know what yer up to in an instant." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "And all these people wanted to send me cards?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Aww Ray, I don't think you need to worry about that. I'll let 'em all know how much you enjoyed getting their holiday wishes. I know that none of 'em are expecting anything in return, they all just did it to share that good feeling ya get at the holidays. I got a buncha really cool friends." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "You sure do, Mosey. You sure do." Ray's eyes were a little misty as he leaned across the table and squeezed my arm. "You tell 'em that Motorcycle Ray says thanks. Okay?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | We talked about how nice it was that there were still so many good people in this mean old world and that motorcycles, | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So. What's the fastest you've ever gone?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Not that fast Ray. Not compared to you." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, lemme tell ya what happens when you crash. Yer sliding, spinning around..." | ||
| + | |||
| + | A nurse came up and laid a gentle hand on Ray's shoulder. "They are putting out Christmas dinner, Ray. Let's go down there now and get you a good seat while there is still plenty of mashed potatoes." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "And gravy! I love that damned gravy!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | I gathered up the cards and handed them to the nurse. Ray stood there turning over a Zippo lighter adorned with a large G in his hands. "This is beautiful. And to think someone in Georgia sent it to me. I don't know what I did to deserve this." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Merry Christmas Ray." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Merry Christmas Mose. Now you go get you a good piece for New Year. Knock one off for me, okay? Wouldja do that?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | I laughed heartily. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yer a good fella. Thanks again. And thanks to all yer buddies. Alright?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray stopped and shook his arm loose of the nurse' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, uhh..." | ||
| + | |||
| + | The nurse again gently tries to steer her charge in the direction of the dinner hall. Ray says, "I just wanna tell Mosey what happens when you crash." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I think you already told him that Ray." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well have you ever gone five hundred and twenty miles per hour?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "No Ray, I haven' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Their voices faded as they moved off down the long hallway. Other, faster moving residents, were also headed for the dining area and Ray was soon lost from view. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | After kickstarting the old Shovelhead, I sat in the parking lot listening to the reassuring heartbeat of the old pushrod motor at idle. I twisted the throttle and listened to the exhaust crack and boom. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | I cracked the throttle one more time. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | Then I pulled in the clutch, kicked the dog into gear and rode off into that cold, winter wind.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | **Santa Rides Again** | ||
| + | |||
| + | The blade on the well-worn Buck Ranger clicked into the cunningly designed locking mechanism and I pushed it across the table, handle first, toward Ray. The warm California sunshine glinted on the steel blade and caressed the rosewood handles and brass bolsters. Memories of times that piece of wood and metal came to my rescue made me smile a small, personal grin. 'Good old knife. Saved my hide more than once. It's a good thing to have for, lo, these many years.' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I looked across the table at Ray. He picked up the pocketknife and slit open the first card. "Holy hell Mosey," | ||
| + | |||
| + | He looked up with a wild-eyed, maniacal grin plastered on his weathered mug. "I was running my machine at Bonneville, working on it when this guy comes up and starts telling me about some fella that needs a couple bucks to run and he's from New Zealand. I said to myself that if the guy came that far he oughta be able to run the course. So I gave him five bucks." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | I sat there, looking at Ray as he stared at the pics on the card. I shook my head slowly, finding it hard to believe what I had just heard. "Read me what the fella that sent this wrote, wouldja Mose?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | As I read the kind words on the card I imagined Ray, a strapping youth wrenching on his machine in the flat relentless sun of the salt flats, handin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Hey Ray, have ya ever seen The World' | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "A movie about Burt Munro and his Bonneville record." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "No way! They made a movie about that? Just goes to show that ya never know, do ya?" Ray ginned, impishly, "They shoulda made a movie about me. But it woulda been X-rated!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well buddy, I'm gonna hafta find you a copy of that movie and let you watch it. I know you'd enjoy it." I picked up the next card and handed it to Ray. As I watched the grizzled old dude wielding my Buck Knife and smiling like a kid on Christmas day, I thought how lucky I am to get to experience a moment like this. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | And my thoughts turned to my friends, compatriots, | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray was amazed as he opened card after card and i read the sentiment contained within to him. he scratched his head, replaced the Kenworth cap and asked again how it was that I happened to have so many cool friends. I told him that it was a complete mystery to me as well and we both laughed. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I wish y'all coulda been there to see his face as he opened a package containing a badass Shovelhead tee shirt and a scale model Shovelhead touring bike. "Good gawd Mosey, even the freakin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Wish youse guys coulda seen the look on old Ray's mug as he pulled out a Shovelheads Forever sticker from an envelope and the tear in his eye as I read him what everyone wrote. Some of y'all are friggin' | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | I thumbed the lock and flicked the razor-sharp blade back into the handle. I reached across the table. "See ya in a few days bub. Okay" | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray grabbed my hand and shook it vigorously. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | ' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | On my way home from seeing Ray, I stopped by to see a girl I know. Now she isn't the motorcycle type - she doesn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | As I was telling her about Ray and Burt Munro she said, "That sounds familiar." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now, Dear Reader, I'm a man and you KNOW that could never happen. Cuz I can't see nuthin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Thanks again for joining forces and making a Christmas that Ray won't soon forget. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | **Mexican Hat Dance** | ||
| + | |||
| + | The gazebo is an octagonal, roofed, wooden structure set across the parking lot, about two hundred feet from the front door of the convalescent home. On the wooden decking inside is a table surrounded by four Chippendale-style, | ||
| + | |||
| + | As he tottered past me, I smiled and held out my fist. The old black man grinned and bumped my fist. " | ||
| + | |||
| + | I sat in the chair opposite Ray after a warm handshake. That old fart sure has a strong grip! Not the kinda handshake that grinds yer bones, but the type that conveys a sense of controlled and restrained power. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "How ya been?" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Not bad. Feelin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Yeah, I gotta pretty good idea what yer talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I really don't think you've changed much Ray." | ||
| + | |||
| + | His blue eyes sharpened their focus and he shot me a look like a falcon spotting a rabbit. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I ain't half the man that i used to be, and I know it! Lemme tell about back when i was a tough S.O.B." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ahhhhh. Now this is the moment, Dear Reader, that makes it all worthwhile. This is the moment when I lean back in the chair, relax, and listen close knowing that a Ray tale is about to unfold. I listen close so I can bring the words back for your perusal. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | (The picture is at the beginning of this story)\\ | ||
| + | That pic has a lot to say. The bike is the one that caused old Ray to say, " | ||
| + | |||
| + | And if ya look, you can see the gazebo...\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Now I think this was the third year that I ran the Baja - things get kinda fuzzy when ya get this old - prolly around '69, I think. I was riding a Triumph with high pipes. I remember that bike well. It had high pipes and the only thing between yer thigh and a burning hot pipe was this little wire thing. We called it a barbeque grill. There was this Limey mechanic that worked for us and he always called it the 'chip basket' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I was doing pretty good. I'd passed a lot of vehicles that day and i was feeling pretty good about my standing. Maybe I was feeling a little too confident, a little too cocky, cuz i was hard on the throttle. It didn't matter, I was holding that throttle open, sliding through the corners and getting airborne off every hill. I was having a blast! It was like my perceptions and reactions were perfectly in tune . i was on top of it, lemme tell ya. My mind was zooming ahead of my bike plotting and planning every single move way, way in advance." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "It was like perfect." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray paused and fumbled through the pockets of his rumpled windbreaker. He pulled a Pall Mall out of the battered pack and, using a Zippo lighter emblazoned with a Georgia logo (Sent by one of all ' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Oh Dear Reader, I had to bite my lip. So many questions were rattling through my empty skull, but I knew that i had to let the story unfold in it's own way. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So, I've got the throttle pinned and I come over this ridge. The road runs right next to this ravine and is filled with these little hills and whoop-dee-dos. I'm railing along and I come over this hill - man, the jump was perfect and I landed it like nuthin', | ||
| + | |||
| + | He smacks his fist into his open hand for emphasis. Ray grins steadily as he reaches with nicotine stained fingers and pulls the butt from his lips. I wait. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "It was like two planets colliding. That gawddamn cow came outta nowhere and hit me while i was doing prolly ninety miles an hour. Somehow I held onto the bars. The bike went off the road, I hit the berm at the edge and the bike went airborne. Man i was really flying!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Next thing I know, I'm waking up with a motorcycle on top of me. I don't know how long I laid there, but I got the scars to prove it." Ray stood up, the legs of his chair scraping on the decking as he rose. He lifted his windbreaker and shirt to show a long, curving mass of twisted flesh across his stomach and chest. Exactly the same tight curve as hi-pipe Trumpet. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I dunno how long I was there, but even after i woke up it took a while to realize that I was laying in a thicket of mesquite bushes with a hot motorcycle on top of me. It was balanced so that every time I moved the exhaust pipe would come down on me, burning me more. I finally got my courage up and, in one quick motion, threw the bike offa me." | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray took the last puff and ground out the cig on the heel of his Converse All Stars. He dropped the butt in his pocket and continued with his story. "So there I am. I start checking myself and I'm not happy with what I find. Best I can tell, my arm is busted - the left one - and my leg is definitely busted. I can feel the broken bones through my suit. But the other leg is okay. I can't feel any pain on that side. Actually I can't feel much of anything on that side at all." | ||
| + | |||
| + | I find a stick and, using it as a cane, I pull my self to my feet. Okay! I'm on my feet, I'm gonna make it! I look around now I can see over the bushes I was laying in. I can see that where the road is. It's maybe two hundred yards away. Up a really steep slope covered with rocks and brush. I realize that the other racers aren't gonna be able to see me down here and I gotta get up there somehow." | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So with my walking stick I try to take my first step. As my good foot came down my leg buckled and down I went. It turned out that I had a dislocated hip. That thing was completely outta the socket - just flappin; around. But I had to do sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I got to a point where it was just too steep to go any further. I tried but I kept slipping back. That is so disheartening, | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray stared off above the treetops. "I don't wanna die here in this stinking desert. Hell, I don't even wanna spend the night here. I could be in town with some sweet senorita at the cantina drinking mescal. Eff that! I'm damn well gettin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "So what did ya do?" I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | "I took off my helmet and waited until I heard a motor. I waited until the right moment and threw my helmet as hard as I could. I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Well, I spent a few nights in a Mexican hospital room and had a great time pinching senoritas butts with my good hand!" Ray grinned that familiar grin. "It took me a little while longer in the hospital back in San Diego, but I was back pretty quick. I hated being stuck in bed. all I could think about was racing. Well...that and the ladies!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray and I sat there in the gazebo sharing a laugh and watching the sweet Cali sun sink past the treetops in the west. Ray lit another Pall Mall. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | **The Hand That Writes and Quickly Moves Away** | ||
| + | |||
| + | It was, Dear Reader, a hot night in early June. The concrete sidewalk radiated the day's heat through the soles of my worn boots as I stood in front of the Troubadour on Santa Monica Boulevard. Music drifted out in bits and pieces as the door to the club opened and shut. I stood there absorbing the energy of the city around me. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I had just arrived in Los Angeles from the backwoods of the Pacific Northwest with four of my best friends ready to make our mark on the world of rock. We spent the week finding a crib, a rehearsal space, a gig, women, and good bud. It was a busy week! | ||
| + | |||
| + | Come Friday night we headed to Hollywood That's how I found myself standing there in the middle of Hollyweird, knowing not a soul in town (besides my bandmates, and they don't count...at least the drummer could count to four!) and wondering what the hell I was doing there. Had we made a big mistake leaving our comfortable round of paying gigs in rural bars, playing cover tunes. Was this city gonna digest us and leave us like the piles of dog shit in the alleys? | ||
| + | |||
| + | Within five minutes I was sitting at the bar with the singer of a world famous, arena rock band, drinking a beer he bought me and marveling at the two bodacious blondes he had hanging on his arms. He had accosted me on the sidewalk in a case of mistaken identity and, in an act of apology, dragged me inside the Troub and now I was partying with a friggin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Within a few minutes we were joined by the guitarist from his band and a well-known movie actor. The party swirled around me and I sat there on my barstool wondering at it all. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now, Dear Reader, you may be wondering what the hell all this rock-n-roll nonsense has to do with motorcycles and, more specifically, | ||
| + | |||
| + | Recently a kind feller from Merry Olde England that goes by the handle of Maddog sent a couple videos for Ray to peruse. The two titles he so generously sent were On Any Sunday and The World' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Finally, this week I knew i would have a full day off and made plans to hang with the crazy old coot. I was stoked to think about how happy he would be at the thought that someone would send him these movies to enjoy. I knew he would be pleased as a puppy with...well, | ||
| + | |||
| + | So, the other night when I finally got outta work I boogied straight to the grocery store to pick up some odds and ends before they closed. I leave the Sporty in the parking lot, wander the store, get my foodstuffs and as I'm standing in the checkout line I notice the scruffily dressed dude in front of me has a motorcycle helmet in his shopping cart. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now this isn't a shiny new helmet but a dirty, scuffed and beaten helmet with mud spatters on it. I immediately know this guy is alright so I strike up a conversation with him. He tells me that he was a stadium motocrosser but has been outta the biz for a few years. He's riding a dual sport that I noticed in the lot as I parked because of the heavy duty aluminum saddlebags and topbox. We chat about the terrors of the urban streets and then I tell him about my upcoming visit to Ray. As I tell him about the movies that I'm delivering to Ray, the dude's eyes light up. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "On Any Sunday? Are you kidding me? I'm in that movie!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | Visions of the guy as a young man on a motorbike leaping through the air, his front wheel all crossed up and roosting it in style pass through my mind's eye. Instead he tells me that he was just a little kid out with a couple friends on their Schwinn Sting Rays just foolin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | So today as I sat across from Ray, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the videos, I told Ray about my previous night' | ||
| + | |||
| + | We made plans for me to bring a laptop next time. Ray said that they prolly wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | So, Dear Reader, there is my tale of serendipity. Fate moves in mysterious fashion and brings us moments of strange entanglements. If I hadn't hurried to the store I might have never met the dude. Hell, if I had merely chosen a different checkout lane I wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | **Too Fast to LIve, Too Young to Die** | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man sat regarding me with a thoughtful expression. Sunlight, filtered through the trees above, dappled his worn face and white beard. He absentmindedly played with a Zippo lighter as he spoke. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Ya know one of the main reasons that I'm here is because I been havin' a lot of trouble with my memory. The docs say it isn't Alzheimer' | ||
| + | |||
| + | He flipped open the lighter and put flame to the cig dangling from his mouth. “Ya know Mose, as I hear yer motor fading away after one of yer visits, I immediately start thinkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I think about it and try my damnedest to remember every-damn-thing about that moment. Ya know: what I was doing, who I was hanging with, what the weather was like, what I was wearing, drinking, riding..ya know, everything. And ya know what?” He looked up with a devilish grin. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Them docs say I'm getting better. And I tell 'em it all Mosey' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now it was my turn to grin. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “The last time you was here you asked me about any wild road stories. I got some stuff I been thinkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I ask you Dear Reader, does a drowning man gasp for air, does a starving man dream of food, does a bear shit in the woods? | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Of course I wanna hear about it!! Gawd dammit Ray, quit teasing me with all this bullshit and tell me the damn story already.” I smiled my sweetest smile and the old man burst out laughing. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Aw Mose you shore do make me laugh.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray took the butt, ground it on his heel and tossed it into a nearby ashtray. He paused and looked off at the hills in the distance for a long moment before he launched back into his tale. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “So I met this girl, I don't quite remember how, that lived way the eff out in Descanso (I had to Google that one Dear Reader. It IS waaaay the eff out in the middle of nowhere!) and she calls me up one Friday and tells me her folks are going away for the weekend. Now this girl was what I guess you would call a “fun” girl, so when she called I jumped on my bike and headed out to see her.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | We will assume, Dear Reader, that Ray was riding an early Sixties, mag-fired, kick only, tin-cover XLCH out of respect to this fine forum. All hail the mighty XLF, the encyclopedic repository of all things Sportster! | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray grinned a wicked smile as he recalled that time in the distant past. “I'm here to tell ya Mosey, that girl was hot. We was having a real good time.” He leaned in close to elucidate the dirtiest of details. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Now here, Dear Reader, I must restrain myself. Ray's “details” aren't really fit for print. He spoke of acts that would make a sailor blush. And, trust me on this, I would not be capable of properly relating his amorous adventures. It reminds me of a conversation between Samuel Clemens, perhaps better known as Mark Twain to the unwashed masses, and his wife. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Twain' | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Of course it did," she said, "only worse. I wanted you to hear just how it sounded." | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | |||
| + | In other words...I will leave it to your imagination Dear Reader.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | “So we're going at it and the damn phone starts ringing. It rings a buncha times and finally she says, 'I better answer that.' She's talkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Now when she said that last word I freaked. She said that her Mom was not feeling good so her parents had come home early. I started looking for my clothes. I sure didn't wanna be there when her father got home. I've seen a couple pissed off dads in my time and I have a healthy respect for an angry dad. I was ready to hightail it outta there but she said it would be at least half an hour before they got home. ' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Anyway, I finally get dressed and outside. It's kinda cold – a spring night in SoCal can get chilly – so I put on my leather jacket. I get the bike started and she's kissin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “It seems like I'm sitting there forever when she runs outta the house. She gives me a big kiss and wraps a long, white silk scarf around my neck. She steps back and says, 'Now you look perfect. I wanna remember you just like that forever.' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “One more long kiss and I headed down the road. Now her driveway was about two or three miles down to the highway. It was a rutted dirt road and I was having a blast sliding through the corners under full power in my best flatttrack style. I was having fun. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “So I came to the highway and turned toward home. I wasn't on the asphalt more than two minutes when I saw an old Studebaker station wagon. The same kinda car her parents drove. I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray paused to light another cigarette. With the bluish white haze hanging in the air, he resumed the story. Tendrils of smoke curled through his mustache as he spoke. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “That' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I'm laying upside down with my feet up the bank and my face a few inches from a trickle of muddy water in the bottom of the ditch. I hurt everywhere. The sun is high in sky above me and the first thing I think is, 'High noon.' Noon? The last thing I remember is last night. What the hell? Oh crap, I musta crashed my bike.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray looks at me and smiles. I dutifully say, “If ya don't fall off yer not going fast enough.” Ray laughs and nods. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Now yer getting' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “So what did happened. Why the hell do you always stop at the good spots? Yer a mean-hearted bastard Ray” I act annoyed but Ray knows I'm just kidding him. | ||
| + | |||
| + | He laughed. “Okay okay. I'm laying there, hurting all over. My neck hurts, my head hurts, my mouth is dry. I try to lick my lips and my mouth feels weird, numb, like I just left the dentist' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I gotta find my bike so I wander around, stumbling like a drunk until I spot it. It's laying about a hunnerd yards down the hill. I just stand there, looking at it and I can see it's messed up bad – forks bent, handlebars bent to hell and back, the front wheel like a pretzel – it makes me sick to see it. I can't stand looking at it so I head back for the road. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “When I get to the road it's ten minutes or so before I see a car. Two cars! I start waving my arms but they both drive past without slowing. A couple minutes later a third car actually stops. As I limp towards the car I remember thinking, 'Cool a brand new Charger. I wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I get up next to the car and lean down to look in the window. There' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “It seemed like forever until a car came along and stopped. There was this older guy inside and he smiled at me as I got in his car – a twenty year old Caddy, kinda beat but still a Cadillac, Jack. He asked me where I was headed. I told him I really wanted to get my bike fixed but I figured I should go to a hospital. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “He laughed and said, 'Good choice. That's where I was gonna take you no matter what you said. A motorcycle wreck, huh?' I thanked him for stopping and told him about the woman in the Dodge. He laughed again and said, 'You don't exactly look your best, young man. Here, take a look.' He reached across me, flipped down the visor and I leaned forward to look in the mirror. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Holy effin' Toledo!! What did I do to myself? I stared at the monster in the mirror. My mouth hung open at a weird angle – I had a dislocated jaw – and my face was covered with dried blood. More blood matted my hair, sticks and leaves tangled in my hair and, worst of all, a large flap of my scalp was torn off and plastered back. The white, bloody skull was visible. My neck was horribly bruised and a bright red line went all the way around my throat. I looked like a walking disaster. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I leaned back in the seat, closed my eyes thinking about that scarf that my sweet little honey had wrapped around my neck.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray fell silent. A sudden, warm breeze sprang up and freshened into a strong wind tossing the trees overhead. The leaves whispered their own stories. I let the moment draw itself out. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “The guy took me to the hospital – I never did find out his name – they cleaned me up and stitched my head back together. They stuck me with a buncha needles, told me I was lucky that I hadn't fractured my jaw, and shoved it back in place. I didn't feel so lucky right then. When they were done I signed myself out.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “AMA?” I asked. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “AMA all the way, Mosey. I can't stand those places.” We shared a laugh. | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | Oh Dear Reader, I'm sorry to keep interrupting, | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | “When I finally got back to my bike I found that damned scarf wrapped around the sprocket and wedged in so tight that I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Me and a couple buddies got the bike out, dragged it home and a few days later I was back riding. That bike never felt right after that. I think the frame was tweaked a little. Eventually I sold the motor to some guy that was building a chopper and trashed the frame. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “For some reason, I never saw that girl again but I haven' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The sun had drifted across the sky while Ray talked. He flicked the Zippo and lit another coffin nail as we sat there. “That was awesome Ray.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I'm glad you enjoyed it.” He paused and glanced up, a little shyly. Have I mentioned, Dear Reader, that Ray has surprisingly blue eyes? “Ya know Mosey, I just can't figure out why you like listening to an old man babble...but I'm damned glad that you do. Every time I tell you one of my crazy stories it helps to cement it in my mind. I hope it stays there for as long as I live, but who knows.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Well Ray, I will gladly listen to you babble any time. You name it and I'll be here.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “For a Harley guy, yer alright.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “For a mean old cuss, yer not half-bad either.” I stood up and grabbed my brain bucket. “I see ya ' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I' | ||
| + | |||
| + | We shook hands, his grip warm and strong as always. It sure is good having a friend like Ray. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | (< | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | ====== Mosey' | ||
| + | |||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | **XLForum member, Icefire, posts:**\\ | ||
| + | These stories about Ray are so good, I don't even care if they' | ||
| + | |||
| + | But, that's ok... He's such a good writer in this style, he should write a book like this, true or not, and we can all sit in the house on rainy days and read it... | ||
| + | |||
| + | Keep it up, Bro, you've got all our attention...\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Do ya really wanna peek behind the curtain? Never mind the man busy working the controls... | ||
| + | |||
| + | I sit and talk to Ray outside under the trees or in a small gazebo. I sit there with this old man and we talk about everyday bs for a while and, when the moment seems right, I ask if Ray has any old stories for me. Then I sit and listen as he relates whatever adventure is foremost in his mind. Sometimes I am rewarded with a brand new gem but most of the time the old dude tells me a story that he has previously told...sometimes many, many times! I've heard the helmet story a LOT! | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray will tell the story in a condensed version of the one I offer up for yer perusal. He parses his words but makes up for it with gestures and facial expressions. What he tells me in a couple hunnerd or a couple thousand words, I expand on to try and tell y'all the story as I saw it in my mind's eye while The Bearded One was yakkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | It sure ain't a word-for-word transcription, | ||
| + | |||
| + | " | ||
| + | He's a walking contradiction." | ||
| + | Kris Kristofferson | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Turn to the stainless steel rolling cart and double-check the layout. Pre-cut lengths of half inch and one inch adhesive tape dangle from the side of the tray and wait patiently their part in the proceedings. Gauze and cotton balls, sit at the far end, three catheters of various sizes lie nearby in their colorful plastic cases and the selected size cath – a twenty-four gauge – is at the near end. Scissors lay to the side. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Look at the patient. Unable to speak, imploring eyes do all the talking. “Please do something. Please.” The eyes glance away, breaking the moment. Time to do the job. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The patient is severely dehydrated. This is not gonna be a cakewalk. Occlude the vein and watch it rise from the surrounding flesh. Trace it with gentle fingertip, feeling the soft, resilient spring of the vein wall. Feel the vein, know the vein, be the vein. The moment is always so...Zen. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Scrub the area three times, wiping with alcohol after each. Take the cath with the hep flush and remove the cover. Inspect the length from tip to hub and apply a little surgical lube. Don't want it to hang up on the dehydrated skin of the patient. Exhale. Take a deep, slow breath and let it out. Focus. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The everlastingly sharp tip of the catheter slides effortlessly through the skin. Feel the subtle resistance of the vein. Now is the exact fraction of a second that requires a sure hand. A dynamic move, like a samurai parting an opponent' | ||
| + | |||
| + | A red flash of blood appears in the end of the cath. Hold the metal stylet in place and push the hub of the cath forward, threading it into the vein. Remove the stylet and cap the catheter with a plug. A drop of dark red blood falls on the steel table. Tape the catheter in place. Remove the plug and insert the IV line. Open the valve allowing a slow, steady drip of fluid into the vein. Done. Exhale. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The patient whimpers softly. Lean in close. “It' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The patient' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Now get back to work Mosey, you lazy bastard. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Downshifting, | ||
| + | |||
| + | I scanned the area and saw, to my surprise, that the spot where the convalescent home's residents would congregate was empty. All alone, Ray sat in his usual place in the gazebo. Not another soul around. Ahhh, the perfect moment. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Correcting course, I turned away from my usual route to the parking lot and steered straight at the gazebo. Off the asphalt and onto the dirt the front wheel tracked straight and true. Stomping hard on the rear brake and ignoring the front brakes completely, the ass-end swung about to the right and I put down my left foot like a hot-shoe dirt jockey, sliding as I came to a stop. Dirt and gravel flew and the old Ironhead slid in BMX style. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray, sitting on a chair in the shade of the gazebo leaped to his feet faster than I have ever seen him move. He stood in the doorway framed by the wooden structure with his right fist firmly clenched and raised high in the air. He shook it and hollered, “Hell' | ||
| + | |||
| + | I switched off the ignition after one last twist of the throttle and kicked down the sidestand. I let the old XLH settle down and stepped off. I walked straight up to Ray and stuck out my hand. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Gawddamn Mosey, I sure wasn't expecting that. You dun that just for me, right? | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Well, mostly for yer sake, but a little was for me and the rest was for the motorsickle. She likes it when I rough her up a little. You know how some girls are.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Ride 'er hard and put 'er up wet, like the cowboys say, eh? | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Ya know Ray that I'm a cowboy at heart. You can take the boy outta the country but ya can't take the country outta the boy, can ya? I will always be a redneck goat-roper no matter how long I live in the city.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Yer a good guy Mose, always smiling and having a ball.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “It sure is easier to have fun when yer riding a motorbike.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Ain' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Seems like you been at the doctor every time I came by. I hope yer giving 'em hell and flirting with the nurses.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Never miss a chance with the purty girls. I hope you been getting' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I get my share Ray.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Damn Ray, you are a dirty old man.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Live long enough and you'll be one too. I guarantee that!” | ||
| + | |||
| + | We both laughed and Ray shook out a cig from his pack of Pall Malls. I grinned when he fished out his Zippo and lit it. I recognize that chromium-plated steel Zippo with the enameled letter “G” on the case. That's from a motorsickle ridin' fool way down in Georgia. He sent it up to old Ray for Christmas. Made me feel good to see the bearded one using it. I know the Georgia chopper jockey would be pleased. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I been thinkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Oh hell yeah Ray! I remember reading about him when I was a kid. That guy was a helluva racer, wasn't he?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Yeah, that boy could ride any-damn-thing, | ||
| + | |||
| + | My mind started firing and suddenly a pertinent fact popped out. “Oh yeah, Cal was a San Diego guy just like you.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Yup. He was a year or two younger than me. I met him at a race, I'm not sure where, and him and me became good friends. I did some wrenching at his dealership, Sun-n-Fun, when I wasn't working at the Harley shop. Working at his place was a lot more fun than the Harley dealer. Lotsa laughs and good times.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Goddamn Ray. Cal-freakin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “The first time I went to Daytona was with Cal. He invited me and I jumped at the chance. I drove the truck filled with our motorcycles. Cal flew out and we met up. I had a great time. Didn't place to well but at least I raced and finished. Of course Cal dun way better than me. Went back a couple more times with him.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Were you there for his back-to-back wins?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I was there in '68 to see him on the podium but I missed the second year. I think I was racing in Europe at the time. That boy sure flung that Harley around the track. He rode so easy and with so much grace. It was always easy to pick him outta the pack even without a number plate.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray leaned back in his chair, took one last drag, and stubbed out the butt on his boot heel. “We had a good time out at Bonneville, too. Cal was perfectly suited for Bonnevile.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Whattaya mean, Ray?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “He was tall and lean, just like you Mosey, and fit inside them streamliners like a hand in a glove. Ya know you would prolly make a good pilot for a Bonneville run.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | I laughed. “I may be skinny enough but I'm missing one important thing. Well, two things actually.” I paused and Ray looked at me quizzically. “I don't think my balls a re near big enough and that aren't made outta brass like the rules demand.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray chuckled heartily and leaned across the table to punch me on the shoulder. “I hear 'em clanking when you walk. You ain't fooling me Mosey!” | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man turned his head and looked off into the distance. “I wanna tell you a story that sums up Cal to me. Me and him were riding in a TT race somewhere, for some reason I think it was at the old Riverside Raceway. Cal, of course, was up in the first row and I was way back in the pack. I seen Cal head into the pits in the second lap and I figgered his race was over. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I was having a good race, the bike was running perfectly and I was really feeling it. Gaps in the pack seemed to open up in front of me and I was working my way toward the front. Man it felt so good and I was really on the line every damn time. I was racing like never before, passing riders left and right. I had a feeling that I could actually win if it kept on like this. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “The bike was running so sweet and landing so solidly after the jumps, I was in heaven. And then I heard it – this ungodly wail getting closer and closer – just before I actually saw it. It was Cal passing me. That son of a bitch was whipping past me...on one wheel! And to add insult to injury, that bastard waved at me as he went by!! I felt like a kid on a tricycle at that moment. Really I felt like I shouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray stopped talking, stroked his beard and pensively regarded me across the table. “And then came the day that he crashed in Japan.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Sadly, slowly, Ray shook his head and looked down. “That damned Suzuki. I told him that he was gonna hafta work that bike hard to win. It just couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Since Cal and me was friends I was the one that had to tell his wife and family. I remember riding out there that day to his house. It was tough riding out there knowing what I had to do but the ride home was even worse. I had tears in my eyes and had to pull over a couple times. That was a bad day.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray's hands were clenched into tight fists, the knuckles white with tension. Slowly the muscles relaxed and after a long moment the old man rose to his feet, “I'm sorry Mosey, but I'm all talked out today. Ya don't mind if we continue another day, do ya?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Nah Ray, you know I'll be back. No problem. You want me to walk to the door with ya?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old guy turned and shuffled off. I rose slowly, gathered up my gloves and helmet. Walking to my bike I watched Ray arrive at the door. He turned and waved as I fired up the Sportster. I returned the wave, pulled in the clutch lever and dropped 'er in first. Ray walked through the doorway into the cool dimness of the convalescent home. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I let out the clutch and rode home thinking about Cal and Ray. | ||
| + | |||
| + | (Special memories on this Memorial day.) | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | It's always a special day when I get to update this thread. Between the visits when Ray just plain isn't there and the many times that he tells me the same stories, it feels extra good when Ray gives up a new gem. I will gladly go hang with the old dude twenty times to get one new story. Me and Ray get along like salt and pepper, like pancakes and maple syrup, like peanut butter and jelly, like...well, | ||
| + | |||
| + | One thing that I would like to emphasize is that I am not a fact checker. I just record the ramblings of an old man. Y'all gotta remember, these are the memories of a really old fart and most all this stuff happened fifty and sixty years ago. The intervening years have not been easy on him. He's done a heap of hard living between those faraway days and the here and now. Lots liquor, piles of drugs and plenty of wild nights have taken their toll. Ray was not afraid of living that's fer sure! | ||
| + | |||
| + | Don't get too hung up on the details, just try to take in the broad brushstrokes of a life lived in the fast lane. I don't think old Ray slowed down long enough to smell every flower, he just kept twisting the wick and watching the world go rushing past in a frenzied blur. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It's not my place to correct Ray. I just tryin' to let y'all sit next to me while the guy babbles on. Like I've said before, I don't know if any of Ray's stories are completely factual and I really don't care. I just enjoy his company and find him entertaining and enjoyable to hang with. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Thanks again for all yer comments and feedback. Don't be shy if you have sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | BTW, yes I work in an animal hospital and I love my job. I ride a motorsickle to work every day, rain or shine. I know sometimes the clients are surprised to see their little Fluffy being cared for by a greasy biker type with a ponytail hanging down to his black leather belt. It's what's inside that counts, right? | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Every time that one of youse guys asks me to give regards to Ray, I write it down in my notebook. The first couple times that I pulled out the book and said sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ice, I will tell him you said, "Hey Ray!". | ||
| + | |||
| + | Thanks Buskit. Yer alright. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Wachuko, glad to have you on board. Ya never know where this ride is going. Lots of twists and turns. Maybe a few comfortable straight sections, but yer gonna hafta keep yer eyes on the road! | ||
| + | |||
| + | Thanks again for everybody' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | The memories of a man in his old age\\ | ||
| + | Are the deeds of a man in his prime.\\ | ||
| + | You shuffle in gloom of the sickroom\\ | ||
| + | And talk to yourself as you die.\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is a short, warm moment\\ | ||
| + | And death is a long cold rest.\\ | ||
| + | You get your chance to try in the twinkling of an eye:\\ | ||
| + | Eighty years, with luck, or even less.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | So I'm standing in line at the local grocery store, holding my cucumbers and avocados, behind a couple of thirtyish ex-Valley girls pushing their carts and chatting away. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “We should get together this Saturday.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Can' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Do the kids want to go?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Yeah they like Grandpa. But you know, all he wants to talk about is how he worked with his Dad on the farm. That and all those stories about airplanes and World War Two.” She sounded bored and annoyed. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Like my sweet, sweet Cabo hearing a cat yowling in heat, my ears literally perked up. “Uh, can I come?” I spoke without thinking and was kinda surprised as I heard the words come outta my piehole. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Two mom faces swiveled and turned towards yours truly. Both of them were looking at me like I had three heads and two of 'em were on fire. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “What?” The woman spoke with ice dripping from her fangs. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Excuse my interruption ladies, but yer grandfather sounds like an interesting man. I sure wouldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The other broad says, “Ugggh. Why don't you mind your own business and stop eavesdropping.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | They immediately turned away and pushed their carts as far away from me as possible. I grinned in wry amusement that shifted to a sad feeling thinkin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | The two pointedly ignored me as they paid for their separate foodstuffs and exited the store ahead of me. I saw the Ungrateful Bitch loading the contents of the cart into her shiny SUV. Standing next to my Ironhead and filling the saddlebags, I waved across the lot at her. “Tell Grampaw I said hi!” | ||
| + | |||
| + | UB rolled her eyes and turned her pretty little head. Laughing at the mild distress I caused her and throwing a leg over the saddle, I rode out making sure to ride past her and giving my best Tom Cruise/ | ||
| + | |||
| + | It's good to shake people up a little. Hopefully she might take the time to reflect on the fact that a total stranger could find her kin fascinating enough to break all social conventions, | ||
| + | |||
| + | As I turned out of the parking lot I thought to myself, “Oh well, I don't get to listen to Grampa' | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | “So tell me Mosey, what's the fastest you've ever gone?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | I answered Ray with my usual answer, “Prolly around a ton forty or so. I'm not positive cuz you know how optimistic speedos can be. I know that I've never gone as fast as you, that's for sure.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “What' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “I'm a pussy. I don't go fast enough to fall off much. Why don't you tell me about your fastest get-off?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “There was a time at Bonneville...” Ray's voice trailed off as he squinted into the hot, direct California sunshine. He looked back my way, “Did I ever tell you about my first race up Pike's Peak?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Tell me all about it Ray.” I sat there listening to my buddy tell me for the umpteenth time about his ride to the top with a busted collarbone. And, just like the very first time, I hung on each word with delirious anticipation. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “When I got to the top I got off my bike and one of the officials came up and asked why my right shoulder looked so weird. It was only then that I figgered out why I was hurting those last couple miles. But I just thought I sprained it. By that evening, I couldn' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray smiled and fished a Pall Mall outta a battered pack. | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Damn Ray, that's a helluva story. Race in the morning, drink all night. Repeat until ya have to put up with someone like me pestering you all the time.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | Ray laughed heartily, “Haw haw haw!! Mosey, yer the best part of my day. I can't tell ya how much I look forward to your visits. Seeing your smiling face is sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “That goes both ways Brother Ray. I'm glad that you spoke up that day and said sumpin' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “A Sporty ain't no girl's bike. It's the hotrod of the Harley world. Well, not compared to a XR750 but that ain't really a Sportster. I like that bike of yours, looks good, sounds good, and you ride it like ya know what yer doing. Now there' | ||
| + | |||
| + | “That' | ||
| + | |||
| + | We shared a laugh between men. The other residents of the home, enjoying the warm day outside, looked up at us, wondering what the joke was. Me and Ray enjoyed the moment and our little bit of humorous repartee. | ||
| + | |||
| + | A cute, slightly pudgy nurse in her white and blue uniform walked among the old folks telling them that dinner would be served in fifteen minutes. They wearily rose to their feet and began the long shuffle to the door of the home. Ray and I sat there for a couple moments. | ||
| + | |||
| + | "Gawd dammit Mosey, I can't stand those old farts. Most of 'em got no life left in 'em. Don't end up like them, okay?” | ||
| + | |||
| + | “Ray when I grow up I wanna be just like you.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | The old man grinned and we walked up to the home, shook hands and he went through the door. “See ya later my friend.” I said as the door swung shut. Ray turned and waved through the glass. “Yup. I wanna be just like you old man. Just like you.” | ||
| + | |||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =\\ | ||
| + | And who is the master of fox hounds?\\ | ||
| + | And who says the hunt has begun?\\ | ||
| + | And who calls the tune in the courtroom? | ||
| + | And who beats the funeral drum?\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | The memories of a man in his old age\\ | ||
| + | Are the deeds of a man in his prime.\\ | ||
| + | You shuffle in gloom in the sickroom\\ | ||
| + | And talk to yourself till you die.\\ | ||
| + | = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | Ray has a sister that visits once in a while. Never met her, but she must care. She has done a lot for Ray - stuff that I won't go into here - but it shows that she puts some effort into her older brother' | ||
| + | |||
| + | Life is short and brutal. Ride free...\\ | ||
| + | (https:// | ||
| + | ======================================\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | Editor' | ||
| + | |||
| + | And then Mosey’s voice trailed off in the distance... | ||
| + | |||
| + | I wonder if Ray is anxiously waiting\\ | ||
| + | the chance for another exciting word to say,\\ | ||
| + | Or lying quietly still, with hands folded over,\\ | ||
| + | calmly passing another peaceful day.\\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | |||
| + | \\ | ||
| + | |||
| + | [[: | ||
