The day I should have stayed in bed

 All names have been changed to protect the innocent and the guilty.


I made a statement about Karma and my relationship... "Karma does not gently whisper in my ear, instead she bitch slaps me in the back of the head with a two by four. And even then I am to stubborn or dumb to listen."  This is a very true statement and this one day proved that even bitch slapping me may not get my attention.  It started on a bike about a few years ago, this wonderful day that Karma tried so hard to get me to stay in bed.

It started with me falling out of bed at about four a.m. some thing I have not done since I was four and then I only got a black eye.  But I fall out of bed, bounce on the floor two times and hit my head on the night stand and instantly reacted with a yelling of  "SON OF A BITCH!" and waking every one up with in  five hotel rooms of me.  Yep Karma was hitting my head with a two by four but I was not listening.  After finally getting back to sleep I slept through the alarm clock and  I woke late.  I missed my morning work out and breakfast and was the last person to get loaded up and ready to roll.  I am never the last person to be ready to roll and this should have been yet another warning that I should just roll over and go back to sleep but NO I was not listening to her whispering in my ear either.

We finally get going and hook up with some friends  Filthy Phil and his wife in Ponchatoula, La.  Where every one decided to go down to Johnny's Whites in New Orleans.  Now don't get me wrong I have had some great times in New Orleans but it was hot and all I wanted to do was get some food and to some air conditioning.  But being with a group on a bike about you stay with the group.  Well, come to find out, they were filming a movie, and you could not get within  five blocks of Johnny Whites.  Here is Karma whispering again to me, but I was not listening at all.  We ride on and we finally find some public parking where we could get all the bikes parked.  We roll up to the attendant just to be pointed to a sign that says NO Motor homes or Motorcycles allowed in public parking.   FUCK!  Hot, hungry, and now slightly livid...  We have to find another place to park!   I go to back the submarine down a slight incline that was leading us to the no motorcycle public parking when all of a sudden I step my left foot in a pot hole.... Yep Karma was smacking me in the back of the head again.  Before I knew what was happening, me and the Submarine went over.  Next thing I know Lance ...  is helping me get the Submarine back up.  Slight damage to me and my side view mirror and back crash bars but I am okay.  Now I am more then slightly livid, I am getting overly pissed off.

We roll on going in circles down in the  French quarters and we find a bar with enough parking out front on the street to get all the bikes parked.  We get all the bikes parked and are dismounting our rides when we are told by a meter maid that we are in a no parking area and if we do not leave she will have our bikes towed.  I think this was where  my temper  hit it's breaking point.  My words, not to her, was FUCK NEW ORLEANS.  Fuck this town and fuck these people get me the fuck out of here.  Yes I know some times my sailor comes out and this was one of those times.  We all climb back on our bikes and ride around trying to find any place to get a drink where we can watch all of our bikes.   The traffic would not let us out so,  after sitting there through all 4 light cycle Trophy Wife does a bold move and  tries to blocks traffic so we can get out.  Some ass wipe tries to run her over for doing so and the slight bike chase was on.   As Wooly calls it a game of guess which biker has the gun.  I am glad they did not catch the car and stopped at the light .  Who knows what could have happened if they caught ass wipe from New York... Yes I did see the tags and that is how I  knew that.  About the same time Dew was climbing on Woolys bike and he was at a slight bank and over the bike with the two of them went.  All of this should have been yet another whisper or a slap in the back of the head but once again I was not listen to any warning Karma was trying to tell me.


After what seemed like forever we find a little hole in the wall bar.  Still no parking but Map man sweet talks the meter maid there and she said sure go have a drink or two and she would  guarantee your bikes will not get towed.
Before I even got off my bike there was a drink waiting for me. I think to reduce my hot head temper tantrum I  was having at the last stop.  As a friend said she had seen me mad but never THAT MAD.  We have our drinks and visit for a few, snap some shots of the locals and decide to head the hell out of New Orleans and go get some food.   We are heading out and all of a sudden a slight rain Storm starts rolling in.  We get inside a gas station, fuel up and wait the entire  five minutes for the rain to pass and head to my favorite place, Well one of my favorite places for food.  Next stop Spars, where we eat drink swap stories and laughs and generally have a great time.

Finally parting ways with Philly Phil and his lovely wife we all head way down the bayous to a place I feel and call home.  We are rolling along just thinking about nothing but getting home when IT happened. We was rolling along, not in a normal order when a light changed.  I knew I was not going to stop in time and what happened next was all in slow motion and also  made me think of my greatest fear on a bike.  Not that I would crash one day but that I would take another bike with me when I did.   I locked up all my brakes as hard as I could, I felt the Submarine try to wipe out from under me but I held tight.  I looked to my right and knew if I went that way I would crash and take Lance down with me.  I looked to my left and did not like the thought of hitting the on coming car head on.  Just not good odds there so I think to go up in between the two bikes in front of me.  So with the wheels and brakes smoking the bike wanting to lay down I aim me and her right between the two bikes in front of me....

 Well I almost made it.  I hit hard not sure of what I hit and thinking I hit Windy and his wife I came to a very abrupt stop.... I remember that I hit Windy and pinned his hand to his fairing.  I remember his wife looking over at me with a WTF look on her face. Next thing I know Lance  is asking if I was okay.  I remember telling him I crashed into his dad to make sure he was okay. I barely remember getting all the bikes off the road into a parking lot and re grouping my thoughts. I remember  Trophy wife telling me that  I controlled my bike like a pro that she does not know how I keep from going down.  Time passed and after I calmed down we all got back on our bikes and finished the ride down the bayou to home.  When we got there every one pulled into a parking spot in front of New Genes house boat.  I pulled into a spot on the other side of the street.  Still in shock about crashing into a bike not wanting to hurt no one else that day.  We finally all went to our homes for this trip.  I still think I was shaking when I got there but I was home, every one was safe no major damage done except to my own bike.

The next day when I woke I went to see what damaged I had done.  My crash bars was bent 2 inches back where I had hit not Windys bike on my right but instead I hit Wooly bike on my left.  My front crash bars hit his back crash bars.  I was teased about riding in the front for a while and some times I still get teased about being a motorcycle sandwich.... But I know things could have been really ugly and that the biker gods was indeed watching over me.  But next time I fall out of bed, whether I am on a ride with a bunch of people or not, I am rolling over and going back to sleep. Karma does not have to hit me in the head with a two by four again... hopefully.

Riding with the assholes

Not many people know that Wooly is a member of an all men's club.   The assholes club, that is what they call themselves anyway and Yep,  They are some assholes.  .  It is no big deal, and I think I know probably 75 percent of the members and have been riding motorcycles with these assholes for over two decades.  They taught me some neat tricks when I first started riding, and I am sure I have amused them more then one time.     Now being around the Assholes for so long, I sometimes forget that in fact, I am not a member, nor can I ever be.   But being around them for so long  I sometimes think I am! Hell, I  called for a vote at one of their meetings.  That actually freaked a couple of wife's out as "NO WOMEN" are in the club and here I was calling for a vote at the Christmas meeting with a lot of the Assholes.

Anyway the president of the club stopped by and called for a ride.  Me being me, "cool where we going and when we going?".   He got quite, now, there is something I think I have seen maybe once before.   "No women!  This is a men only ride."   I have never been out and out told I could not  ride with them so thinking something was up said okay guys have fun.  Besides, I had to replace a much needed rear tire on the Submarine and was going to be busy for most of the day. After wards they decided it was okay for some of the girls to meet them at a bar afterwards. Where I drank a couple glasses of wine.  When we left and was all riding home as a group I got to thinking of how much I have rode motorcycles with these guys and how much I have learned from them.

 Being one of the first girls around that  these assholes would allow to ride I was excepted into the riding part of the club.  I learned to take clover leafs faster, as they would leave my ass behind if I did not catch up.  No slack because I was a girl, in fact I think they might have had more fun pushing me to the limits because of it.   I think they turned it into a game of lets see how well she really can handle a bike.

One time when I had  first got  Mydol,  we was headed to the Kings house for his annual Birthday/Asshole meet.  Wooly whipped into the gravel driveway and headed to the back of the house.   Me, going slightly faster then I should have, hit my brakes.  MOST of the time this is simple as breathing.  Well going from manual drum brakes to dual disc brakes...Lets say I hit my brake just like I was riding my old 69.  I barely had the thing stopped and I thought I was doing good holding it up from it wanting to throw me on the ground..... Well had seemed like a life-time but was only a minute or two came the VP of the Asshole club after laughing his ass off at me he came and helped me regroup.

Then there was the time I ran into the King... Yep on bikes at that.   We was all out for a little block, Wooly and mom was in the lead, then the King, Me behind the King and the Queen behind Wooly.  Why we was riding like that I still have no idea but we was.  We had all came up to a intersection, stopped seen the car that was coming had on its turn signal, Wooly pulls out.  The King goes and starts to pull out and me follow him in  fast pursuit.  But at the very last nan- second I turned to just make sure the car really was turning.  And that was when the Kings bike stalled and died.  Yep I looked back just in time to smack the back of his legs with my crash bar damn good thing we was not going fast.


And lets not forget the time there was about 10 bikes riding, and the boys had had a drink or two and was   being boys... Well after being good for as long as could  I decided to play with the big boys and passed all their asses...  Then there was the time some chooper gave me that nod... you know the one I am talking about.  I turned to Wooly he smiled and gave me a wink.  I gave fellow chopper guy the nod back and when the light turned Chopper dude eand me took off.  I know Chopper dude was thinking look a little old lady on a geezer glide.  Hell I might have thought that myself a long time ago.  But the thing he did not think of  is little old lady riding big bike that does not even know she is on it.  Easy peasy and I think I was lauging when I did it.

Point being, and was said best by a friend of mine, boys and girls  are differnt and do every thing different including ride different.  Boys take pride in not putting there feet down at stops.  They have a secert points game about how many cars they can pass.  Girls, ...they obey the laws.

The bubble gum incident.

Now I had a boss a long time ago that if you was caught chewing gum it was a fifty dollar fine, each and every time. He would always say "Looks like a cow chewing its cud ."  This rule never bother me I never really chewed gum. Well  to be honest the only time I have ever chewed gum was when riding on a motorcycle. I guess it helps to keep my mouth from drying out.  Chewing gum and heat do not mix, matter of fact they go together like oil and B.P.  just not a good idea. I have been broken from this habit and it was not long ago that I incurred the foo-foo bubble gum incident.
Wooly and I was on a bike about. It was one of those hot desert bike abouts. Now I do not like the heat, I can handle the cold better but it seems it is easier to get people to go for a ride when it is 100 degrees out rather then 50 degrees out. So I guess I will always be odd man out and have to ride in the heat if I want to ride with my friends.
We had stopped some where outside of White Sands New Mexico and got gas, a drink of cold water and I had bought a thing of mojito flavored chewing gum. Sounded kind of refreshing a Mojito gum or drink...;D   On this day I was going along at a normal pace 10 miles over posted speed limit and the foo-foo gum I was chewing was dissolving in my mouth. It was almost instantly turning to a liquid form almost like a gelatin that had been left outside.
The wind was blowing hard and I did not want to spit the gum out and it land on the Submarine or me. That would just be nasty, and yes I still have some tack left in me but this day proves I am pure Cajun tack... So I am waiting for the wind to calm down so it does not throw the gum back on the Submarine or me. All the while the gum is dissolving and running down my throat causing me to gag.  It was like a nasty rubber coating oozing down my throat. I was trying really hard not to gag this mess up and it was trying harder to make me gag. So here I was stuck trying to get it to stop and it was not stopping. Trying to keep it from making me gag, I am going down an interstate in 100 plus degree weather gagging on this rubber mess running down my throat waiting for the wind to calm down so I can spit the mess out.
When finally I though I had a chance so I spit the nasty dissolved rubbery mess in my mouth out. Bad move the wind kicks the liquid form of gum back at me and it hits me in the neck, check and glasses basically the right side of my face. Trying hard not to loose my composer while trying to get the instantly now dried hard as a rock gym off me I pull to the side of the road.  Wooly is laughing his butt off after he sees the mess I have made of myself and I am mad that I just can not spit like a boy. I now think it is important to learn to spit, maybe even a survival skill.
On the side of this dry dessert road I am trying to think of what the heck I have that might get the now dried, hard as a rock gum off me. If I was at home I know peanut butter works but there is no peanut butter in my saddle bags. The only thing I could come up with is lotion; a petroleum based product might do the trick. So here I am trying really hard to rub this nasty dried mess out of my hair and off my skin, gloves and glass. My summer riding gloves was ruined I just tossed them in the first trash can I found. When another bike pulls over to see what the problem might be. Well after fighting this mess for what seemed like an eternity I had enough of it off me to get going again. Thankful the Submarine was spared the mess or I would probably still be trying to clean her.   Any way lesson learned and I am back to my old ways of NEVER chewing gum!

Just amazing

Some times in life it is the unexpected that truly amazes me.   Yesterday ride started with me waiting on Wooly and doing a little walk around check of the Submarine.   I think I found the problem of her wanting to spit back besides the ethnol that we are now force to buy.  She was made to burn hot not low so that shit is just that in her system, shit.  I also have talked to others who are having the same snap crackle and pop problem from the low burning fuel.  Any way found a broken exhaust bracket so got to go get a part today to fix her up.  
 When we headed out we took off east to a place called Pickwick dam.  It was a straight boring ride there but  we did have a heart stopping mishap almost getting there.  We was rolling down this two lane road speed limit marked 55 and we was rolling about 60.  Up ahead of us was a truck rolling the same speed next thing we know truck is almost right in front of us.  The truck had stopped but had no brake lights to warn us that he was stopping.  I headed up the emergency shoulder and Wooly went to dodge him on the left.  Truck goes and starts to turn left into Wooly.  Wooly hits his brakes hard and aims for the back of the truck and barely scraped by.  At this point I was screaming profanities at the truck driver about not having working brake lights and signal and a few choice names.   Grateful we did not end up in the hospital or worse but thankful we just got to take our frustatraions and  roll on.
We arrived at Pick wick damn  about 1 pm we was starved so we choose a little place, mom and pop type place  to stop and eat at.  Wooly choose good I could not finish my sandwich it was so big.  But while we was setting there we decided it was to nice of a day to eat inside so out to the picnic tables we went.  This is where we meet the R&B of the R&B barbeque.  A father and son and true to southern hospitality these gents not only served some good food and great tales but gave us a great road to ride. So if you are ever in the neighbor hood stop by eat drink and go for a great little ride.   After telling tales it was time to roll and Rob and Bo had made us a nice little map.  Well let me tell you if you are this neck of the woods follow the locals advice.  They had us this little road called Hollard road I think anyway.  What a blast, not fast but some really fun twist turns and banks.  This road lead us to Waterloo Alabama, the very start of the Trail of Tears.  We stop  and did a couple pictures at the start but we really liked this other shot we took... Notice the sign in the back ground, lol... We followed the trail to the Natchez Trace and rode on that tell it  hooked up with 72 where we headed back west  and  back to  our reality.   We had a blast and I plan on going back the other way next time and stopping back by R&B to personal thank them for the great suggestion.

Okay Woolys Rehired

Some time last year I fired Wooly from ever  planning any more rides.  I bloged about how bad that ride went anyway he has redeemed himself.  Being stuck in Memphis, a town I do not recommend, I have desovered we are on the wrong side of 3 states... The other side of Tennesse has a lot of curves and mountains to offer.  Same with the other side of Arkansas, and I would much rather be stuck in the gulf then in the middle of nothing like I am here.   So trying to plans rides here is as boring as back home.  Don't matter where you go it is flat and stright and well nothing to really write about.
So being so stuck on nothing to do I got frustrated with the map and told Wooly don't care it all looks boring to me you plan the damn ride.  Well he did and he did a good job of doing it also.  Now do not get me wrong it was 70 miles on an interstate to get to the curves but hell that beats all day of boring stright roads.  But when we finally got there I have to admit he did do a good job.
The ride finally started with fueling up and winding our way through what should have been a good stretch of sweeps but we got stuck behind a couple 3 wheelers who would have had to speed up 10 miles an hour to hit the posted safe speed.   I remember thinking does a three wheeler not get the same thrill as to dip that bike and pick her back up in a curve.  Guess not because they was going way to slow for me to get that little tickle in my soul I normally would get in a curve.  But we finally made it to a half way straight a way and we blew by them to have our   fun... And yes we finally got some fun,  tickle my soul, dance with my bike, twisty, turning, banky fun. Now the weather did not matter that we could have got poured on any second.  And the shinny orby thing was no where to be seen, I finally got some curves, some wind some Zen back into my life.  
After our day of playing we stopped for dinner and to decuse the days events the things we have put off for this moment of Zen... My question is why can I not get payed to ride my motorcycle? Now that is a job I would love.

Getting Lost

 GET LOST!!!
It sounds easier than it really is, seven letters two little words...  GET LOST!!!   Something someone might have said to us, or in my case, I have said to people.   But some times in life that is what you need to do just go get lost.  Get lost from your responsibility, your stress, basically your  business life, your every day nine to five.  Now don't get me wrong, I love my life but it does have  some stress that comes with it.   Some times a lot of stress comes with it...
Today Wooly and I took off for a little bike-about it was time to de-stress, unwind and find my zen again... The day started a little cold still in the 30s but was to warm up to the 50's so off we go... By the time we stopped for gas the  temperatures was in the 40's... It turned into a beautiful ride but like most of our rides we  encountered some bumps... Yes the road kind but also the life kind.  So after missing a turn, a little temper tantrum, we get back on track for some curves.   We followed a scenic road south and when it come out to where we were originally going to turn back, we decided to get lost... just start  by taking this road and then maybe that one and... Don't look at the road numbers or names just turn here turn there and finally you get lost...
Well ,when we finally was lost, having fun enjoying road not on the maps, well most maps and life stress was finally behind us.    Wooly slows way down and I follow his lead he looks over at me and says" Are we lost enough for you yet?"  My first responses was yes, but some how I said not quite yet... So we rode a little father...;D
 Any way after a great day of getting lost on some curvy roads we have never seen before, we finally head back to our lives, we stopped for a drink in some dive bar in the middle of no where and was talking about the day... Wooly statement fit today the best... Life begins at 20 miles over the posted  safe speed limit in curves ...