The Perfect Ride

If you ride, you have most assuredly found yourself at least once, in the throes of ecstasy. At some point you realize how perfect it is to be riding the bike you love along a smooth rode on a glorious day. You realize that you are free and yet at one with the universe. No matter how miserable the rest of your life, for those few wondrous moments you could feel no better. If you dare let your self consider the source you'd have to admit that God exists and he loves you; there could be no other explanation.

Lead With Your Nose

If you ride, you know that your feet and your hands are often the first part of your anatomy that is out in the wind. But quite often and quite unexpectedly, you find that you lead with your nose. How many times have you been watching the road, feeling the wind, and thinking about whatever, when some scent wafts up your nose? Sometimes is a subtle fragrance, like orange blossoms, fresh cut grass or onions being grilled at a greasy diner. Other times it slaps you up side the head! You ain't sure what it is... but you're sure its dead!

Often, when riding and these odors arise, it takes me back to others times in my life and I can vividly remember so many things. Today, for instance, I ran down a long, long black patch of new asphalt. That smell; the tar and oil rising up like a ghost from my childhood. To Ace, new asphalt is just a little bit of heaven on earth; so smooth, so new, so black, and that smell! Instantly so many childhood hot summer days are remembered. Speeding along on my bicycle with the ape hangers, banana seat and sissy bar. I'd tear up the neighborhoods dreaming of winning every imaginary race in dramatic and heroic fashion. Dreaming of the day when the cards on my spokes would be replaced by a real motor; one that was big and bad with loud exhaust pipes. Every so often as kids we'd get lucky to find a newly paved road and we'd marvel at how smoothly our tires would glide across the inky gravel surface.

It seems that one of the side effects from riding is this eternal connection to the past and present. One needs to stay in the moment to stay upright and out of the ditch, yet in spirit be connected to the history, the mysteries and the brotherhood of one.

A Winter's Ride

I went for a nice ride today... heck, it’s January 17th, how could it not be great to be able to ride. The sky was blue and with a ton of rain overnight, the air had a distinctive flavor to it. It was windy with some rather strong gusts. Every so often  a gust would knock me in the head and it’s like; “Hey! where did that come from?” But it was fun.

I was cruising down a long stretch of a two lane highway. I glanced down and noticed that I was rolling at 65 and then looked up at a white car heading my way in the left lane. As it quickly approached I could see the large black body of a dog standing in the passenger’s seat. His head was poked through a partially rolled down window. They passed and that dogs tongue was hangin’ out and his ears were pinned back by the wind and I laughed! “I feel ya dog!” I yelled as I blew by the driver’s side door. The rest of the way home I smiled thinking about that dog and our kinship of stickin’ our noses out in the wind, tongue hangin’ out, ears pinned back, and joy in our hearts. Ride on!

Destination Daytona or Bust

Ace is here in Ormond Beach, which happens to be during the time of Bruce Rossmeyer’s funeral. It’s a sad thing when one loses a brother. Bruce was a lot of things to a lot of people and, good or bad, probably interacted with the lives of as many people in a year that most people do in a lifetime. The Brotherhood of One respects him for his accomplishments and mourns for his family in their loss.

An aside to Mr. Rossmeyer’s story is that six motorcycle officers were involved in a crash while escorting Bruce Rossmeyer's family to his funeral. They had a chain reaction incident and none of the officers involved were physically injured, but their egos are permanently scarred. They picked themselves up and continued to the funeral. The Florida Highway Patrol is investigating exactly who was at fault in the crash. We here at the Brotherhood are sure that NO tickets will be issued, and the screwup will be deemed righteous.

You Never Know

I ride and I ride and I ride and I wonder when I should turn around... cause I really don’t wanna. The reason being, I want to see what’s over that next rise, just beyond the horizon. And every time I get there I see it’s a part of America that we take for granted, that may not be there some day. Some times I stop and take pictures before riding on, on and on. I want to see what’s just beyond the horizon. And every time I get there I see it’s a part of America that may not be there forever. Things change, people change, society changes, climates change, morals change, values change, ethics change, laws change... you never know.

Let Me Do It

My riding style is laid back. I don’t get to ride as much as I’d like, I have to travel a lot for work. So when I do get on the bike, I try to take it easy and enjoy the ride. I like to look around. I like to experience all I can. I try to be conscious of the wind on my skin, the smells that wrap up around my brain. I like to feel the temperature change. I like to hear the roar of my pipes.

Every once in a while I find myself haulin’ ass, not paying any attention to the speedometer I’ll look down and be doing 15 over. And I realize at that moment that I have that same feeling I used to have when I was young and wasn’t supposed to be riding on the road; and that was one of the best parts of riding; was that danger or thrill that you were getting away with something. That just goes to show that somethings never change; and why should they? I don’t hurt nobody, and it makes me feel good, and its my own business. Let me do it.

Bobber? Just Wonderin’

I have been thinking about building my own bike. I’d really like to build a bobber. I read all the biker rags and pour through all of the pictures. I get online and look and look and look. I look at chassises, rolling chassises, parts, complete bikes. And here’s the thing--I’m just wonderin’; why are bobber’s so freakin expensive? I mean, they are stripped down bikes, all but the necessities removed, and they cost as much as a fully dressed Harley. So how does a working stiff like me afford a bobber? All I want is a barebones bike. Any ideas?