Williams, AZ - A Little Late

These were hanging from the ceiling of the bar in Williams, AZ

Yes, I know this is late. I started it on July 11th. But hey, I just found a math test from the 8th grade I never finished. I smell a GED in my future!

OK. So you all know we took a trip to AZ. Why, I don’t know. Crap, after two hundred miles, my wife decides her hinny hurts and we have to call her mommy to pick her up. Maybe I should have put the rear seat on? The fender didn’t look that hard. Then, after nineteen hours on the road I get to sleep on a plywood bed with things crawling on me. I think there are critters that live in that mountain air, I saw it in a movie once it must be true. The next morning I’m sitting outside enjoying a cup of rancid coffee and a non-filter, just sitting there, minding my own damn business, when these people in leather start shouting my name and start trying to hug me. Boy, I’ll tell ya’, those people in AZ are pretty darn friendly. Don’t they know that if you do that in Alabama you’re considered married! They said their names were Ann, Big D and Arizona Harley Dude. I asked for ID but nobody had one. Likely story. I still think they were spies from the California Air Resource Board sent to Arizona to try and screw up that State also.

The next thing I know I’m being dragged into some two hundred year old building they said was a restaurant. I think the waitress built the place, but she had a mind like a steel trap. She took everyone’s order without a notepad and got everything perfect. Now I’m being forced to eat some strange redneck food while listening to a discussion about the proper use of the word penis. Hell, maybe I did get married that morning. I know I heard Dueling Banjos playing on the eight-track.

Shortly after that I found myself with a whole bunch of those leather-clad types on bikes, riding from one end of town and back again. It was like some sort of circus freak-show. I could see the towns-folks pointing and warning their children. You could hear them: “See that one with the beard and tattoos? Stay away from him! He’s trouble”. The sign on the hardware store said there was a “this weekend only” sale on “pitchforks”. I wonder why. I kept a close eye on them.

After all the dirty looks from the locals I spent the afternoon following around a 2-speed Sporty. The two speeds were 0 and friggen 90. Nothing in between. Anybody who doubts that a Sporty packing two-up can’t leave a Big Twin in the dust; well shit happens. After a day of riding in the cold, rain, heat and everything in-between, we wound up at a local shop for some pretty darn good road-kill to put in our bellies. Possum, maybe beaver or squirrel. Don’t matter, it was good.

Later on we went to one of those places folks go to and play grab-ass. They have beer, liquor and other mind altering stuff. You best keep an eye on you ass if you go to one of these establishments, someone might grab it and not give it back. But hey, if you think your ass is too big and you want to lose some, sign up for the frequent ass-grabber plan. After a few hours of grab-ass watching and more local animal abuse, it was back to my plywood Sorta Perfect Sleeper.

The next morning was some leftover possum and a trip from Williams to Phoenix for a overnight before heading back to CA. It was pretty uneventful except that you ride through some of the most spectacular scenery on earth. When we got close to Phoenix and traffic was starting to back-up Ann warned us that we “could not” split lanes in AZ. So being good law-abiding citizens we respected the law and “did not” split lanes. We rode down the shoulder to our exit.

Eventually we found our way to Big D’s garage. Full of bike, parts and tools. I felt right at home. The fact that Ann, Big D, AHD, the kids and the folks from B.A.C.A. that stopped by were all down-home genuine folks didn’t hurt either. Some of the best people you would ever want to meet if you ever get over that way. The rest of the nights activities are a little fuzzy, so rather than make stuff up I’ll leave it out. I will say this: “Big D, if you ever run for public office I’ll vote for you”. Even though you probably wouldn’t win because most people won’t accept the truth.

The next days ride back to CA sucked (damn helmet law!). Don’t get me wrong. It was a good ride with great friends, B.B. and Dave, but you’re ridding away from something you don’t want to end. While the saying “ There’s always next year” is true, it took me so long to get of my ass and finish writing this that “next year” is only a few months away.

Thankful It's Not 2029!

This is Kay’s latest commentary I heard today. Although it may not be the most uplifting message of the season, it may not be far from the truth. After hearing this, and since it is Thanksgiving, I figured I should be darn thankful it’s not 2029… yet!

"The following is a KSCO commentary. Here is Kay Zwerling: OK. This has been floating around for awhile. Sounds like life will not be much fun in the future. Headlines from the year 2029: Ozone created by electric cars are now killing millions in the seventh largest country in the world, Mexifornia, formerly known as California. White minority are still trying to have English recognized as Mexifornia’s third language. Spotted owl plague threatens northwestern United States crops and livestock. Baby conceived naturally, scientists are stumped. Couple petitions court to reinstate heterosexual marriage. Last remaining fundamentalist Muslim dies in the American territory of the Middle East (formerly known as Iran, Afghanistan, Syria, and Lebanon). Iraq still closed off. Scientist estimate it will take at least ten more years before radioactivity decreases to safe levels. France pleads for global help after being taken over by Jamaica. Castro finally dies at age 112; Cuban cigars can now be imported legally, but President Chelsea Clinton has banned all smoking. George Z. Bush says he will run for President in 2036. Postal Service raises price of first class stamp to $17.89 and reduces mail delivery to Wednesdays only. 85-year, $75.8 billion study: The result is that diet and exercise is the key to weight loss. Average weight of Americans drops to 250 pounds. Massachusetts executes last remaining conservative. Supreme Court rules punishment of criminals violates their civil rights. Average height of NBA players is now 9’7”. New federal law requires that all nail clippers, screwdrivers, fly swatters, and rolled up newspapers must be registered by January 2036. And, Congress authorizes direct deposit of formerly illegal political contributions to campaign accounts. Capitol Hill intern indicted for refusing to have sex with a Congressman. IRS sets lowest tax rate at 75%. Florida voters still having trouble with voting machines. And, there you are. These are the headlines in the year 2029".

Now that you know what the future holds have a Happy Thanksgiving.

--This part was added a little later in the day--
I went on a short ride before going out to dinner with the In-laws, who are great people, but still remember guys, do what your wife tells you. It seems that Belle was feeling a little left out at not being invited to dinner so she acquired her own Thanksgiving feast.

What Is It?

This is stupid and probably darn near impossible, but I gotta do it anyway. It’s those voices in my head. Can you guess what the arrow is pointing to? The one on the left is a piece of human hair.

More Voices?

06:30 Saturday the thermometer reads 40F outside and it rained last night. Being of a not to bright nature I figure it’s perfect weather for a ride over to Carmel Valley. So now I’ve got to pick a bike. Find my three-sided coin, flip it, and ok the old 84’ Sporty it is. Bundle up in my best Saturday go-a-riding attire and piss off the neighbors. Let me tell you about Laureles Grade, the road that goes over the mountain between the Salinas Valley and Carmel Valley. Every time bike races are held at Laguna Seca several bikers are injured, or worse on the Grade. It’s one of those knee dragging, up and down twisty roads that crotch-rockets love.

I start heading up the hill and for some reason the “ICY” sign at the bottom catches my eye. Could it be more of those voices in your head that Arizona Harley Dude hears? After all, 40 degrees in the valley, rain last night, several thousand feet up the hill might be different. Never noticed that icy sign before.

I had two reasons for taking that ride: 1) Because I’m stupid and like to freeze my ass off. 2) If you get up there before the Sun is up you can get above the clouds that blanket the valley this time of year. Just about at the top of the Grade I run into an old friend I remember from the East Coast: “Black Ice”. I didn’t like the SOB then, and I like him even less now. Going into a left curve the ass-end started to fishtail like a baby seal that just saw Jaws. Crap, this thing’s going down! Or option number two: Screw trying to make the turn and go straight into the dirt pullout. The drop-off on the other side can’t be more than a few hundred feet. Throttle up, pull the front-end up straight, hit the dirt and stopped the wayward bike, upright. Hey, this is a good place to get a picture with the clouds over the valley!

Judging by the fresh skid marks in the dirt, I’d say that a small car hit that ice just a few minutes before I did. If they had hung around for awhile bet I could’ve got them to take a picture of me next to the bike with crap running down my leg.

I guess it’s a good thing that we all occasionally hear voices in our heads, we just don’t always listen. Another 15-20 mph like I usually take that road? Somebody else might be writing this…for a newspaper.

Follow The Pussy

This might sound strange but it’s true! I swear on a stack of Shovelheads that it’s true! One of my cats came up to me and said that she’s seen all the useless junk I put on my blog and all I do is waste my time in the garage screwing with the bikes. At first I thought it was weird that she knew what a blog was. I didn’t think a cat was awake long enough to do any reading. But then the other two cats walked over and said they do lots of stuff when no one’s home. Who’d a thunk it. Cats actually don’t sleep all day!

So I asked what they wanted. They went over to the corner and got in a little cat football huddle. They came back and said: Look bozo, if you want some really good footage get your camera and follow us around for awhile. We’ll show ya how to have fun. I said ok I’ll bite, lets go. By the time I got my camera they were all sleeping and I had to wake them up. Maybe I’ll wake up soon. I think I’m dreaming.

Veterans Day Disgust!

That is totally absurd! Just got home, sitting in the garage with a cup of coffee listing to the radio. The station is in Santa Cruz, CA. Anyone familiar with Santa Cruz knows that it is so far left politically that all official city documents spell "left" with two L’s. The radio host, Charley Freedman, is a Navy veteran and schoolteacher. He really has no use for Santa Cruz other than he works at the radio station.

He said this story, which the local papers did not carry, might offend some people. It seems that yesterday, 11-11-2009; there was an event at the Santa Cruz Veterans Hall. Someone in the neighborhood thought it was too loud and called the local noise patrol. This was about 6:00 PM. Far from the 10:00 PM kick in for the noise ordinance. What crime were they committing? They were playing “God Bless America” and some son of a b*tch was offended. The worst part is that the local Police actually went on the call and told them to turn it down. Big ass damn crime. Damn America loving bastards. Not in Santa Cruz, we’ll show you!

To the Santa Cruz Police Officer that went on that call: You’re a a-hole! You should resign immediately and get the hell out of The United States Of America. You don’t deserve the freedom those Veterans gave you!

Description Of A Veteran

Veterans are described many ways by many people. This is the description I prefer.

“A Veteran is someone who at one point in their life wrote a blank check made payable to the United States of America for the amount of up to and including their life”.

Fugly Ugly Forks

Finally got tired of looking at those pitted ass forks on my bike. I wish the factory would stop putting clear coat on them, but it looks good in the showroom. Looks like crap after a few miles but that’s life. So here’s my secret for getting that junk off. The stuff was called Goose’s Magic Mix metal prep cleaner. Now it’s called Magic Mix. Google it or find it at most truck stops. Make sure it has the bunny wabbit on the bottle. By itself it won’t do a damn thing to clear coat, as most chemicals you can buy won’t. Clear coat is some tough stuff.

So the trick? Green scotch brite pads. It has some sort of chemical reaction with a scotch brite pad. Put a few drops on the pad – you can smell the acid. I tried other brands of pads, doesn’t work. What kind of acid is it? Hell, I don’t know. But it gets rid of clear coat, that’s all I care about. You can wear rubber gloves if you want to, but hey if you can kill two birds with one stone and get rid of those pesky fingerprints that keep getting you in trouble and have purdy forks at the same time, why not.

I spent about five hours to do both forks. You still have to use a little elbow grease. The more screwed up the clear coat is, the easier it comes off. Then wipe it down with a wet rag and polish with your favorite metal polish.