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 ...

The Fog

I love fog; it is mysterious spooky and refreshing all at the same time.  Riding in fog is something that people have mixed emotions about.  Do not get me wrong here I do not think I would like it if I was riding through Bakersfield California, I think this is more than just fog there I mean they delay school till the fog clears, now that is fog. But the kind of fog that comes off the mountains and rolls down the hills that is the kind I like…

I have rode through this thick Bakersfield fog twice, the kind where you can not see the end of your bike or the bike in front of you…The road under you is a cloudy gray mist not the black or concrete we all know… Even the fairing is fog in. you just kind of pray that everyone is all doing the same speed and sticking to their half of the lane…

 The first time was riding in the smoky mountains, it was 2005 bike-about and there was 12 bikes riding in this group…I was riding on the back of Wooly “new wife” because I did not think it would be smart to make this trip on Mydol…Not that I do not keep her up and running properly just that she would have slowed everyone else down, and besides if I am riding on the back of the bike I can drink all I want and not worry about a D.U.I. or getting home safely…That was Wooly's job on this trip….

After riding in terrible storms for two days we finally get to Cherokee North Carolina where we was meeting up with the rest of the guys going on this little adventure…We actually spent the first eight days in full rain gear, it was raining and hard but nothing was detouring this group from riding the Blue Ridge Parkway. It took five years to get this group of friends together…The second we got dressed in the morning all rain gear was put on and off we would ride in the down pours...All the rain made the Smoky Mountains even more Smokey, it was probably on day four of this type of riding that we encountered the fog, not the smoke… It was Bakersfield kind of fog and riding on the back was freaking me out.  I could not see the tail light of the bike in front of us, The headlight of the bike in back of us nor could I see our headlights or the white lines of the road or the road itself…I think that is where a few of my gray hairs came from….

The whole time riding through this fog I just keep saying I hope everyone is maintain the same speed or this could get ugly…Thankfully everyone did maintain the same speed and no one crashed or went off the side of the mountain. The biker gods were smiling down on us this day…This was probably one of the most intense rides in my life. I had no control of anything and things definitely needed to be controlled.   The four hours till we stopped for lunch seemed to take days, the road was endless and lost in the fog, it was a nail biting experience for me…

Now the second time I rode through this kind of fog was Wooly and me on the old Shovels…(yes we still get our old bikes out too)  We was riding back from Augusta Georgia where we had been on business and decided to get lost in the Smokey’s for a week before returning to our expensive storage locker… This time the fog was the Bakersfield type of fog but it was just Wooly and I not twenty other people to watch out for.  I loved it I was having so much fun that I lost Wooly a couple of times and had to pull over in view points to wait for him to catch back up to me… I admit some times I have a speeding problem, you would thick that the fog was so intense it would slow me down but it just seemed to be like riding through clouds…

Now my emotions about the fog our mixed I love the stuff as long as I am in control of my own bike and do not have a bunch of other people to worry about. I still do not like the Bakersfield kind of fog but it’s not like it would stop me from riding and to be honest it probably would not even slow me down…

Deer Wooly

I know if you read my stories that a lot of our riding friends call me the “Rain Goddess” but they call Wooly “Deer” And no I did not spell this wrong I do mean the four legged animal that people hunt, shoot, and eat. I will let him tell you all of his close encounters with these four legged critters but I am going to tell just one of his tales …

The most intense one was nine  years ago. Wooly, me and our favorite long haul biker friends went for a weekend spin. Our favorite long haul biker friend had just bought a new Heritage Springer and wanted to take it for a spin so plans were made, and Friday night we met half way between our houses. Once we hooked up everyone headed back to our place for dinner, drinks, and catching up it was not thirty miles before the darkening skies let loose and started pouring on us (Rain Goddess). We did pull over in a gas station and let most of the storm pass before finishing the way to the expensive storage locker. There we spent the night drinking wine and catching up on everyone’s lives...

The next day I had a wedding to go to, so it was a late start down to the Lake of the Ozarks. It is a good thing it was only a couple hundred miles so no big hurry on the time thing… After the reception and eating some damn good food we all hopped on our bikes and headed for the lake… This was before Wooly had the “New Wife” or I the “Submarine”.  So Wooly was riding the First Wife and I was riding Mydol and our friends were on their new Heritage Springer. The ride down was great, no rain. We would be heading into some but every time I thought we would run into it we would make a curve and it would not be right in front of us any more… We did get spit on a little but with the Midwest heat none of us seemed to mind...

After arriving at Woolly’s brother’s house we all unloaded and hopped on his boat for a little spin a few beers and a quick jump in the lake to cool off. Back at the house our favorite long haul biker friends said that they wanted to go check out Bagnal Dam… This being a weekend night I knew I could walk around faster then drive so I pulled Mydol into the garage and hoped on the back of the First Wife. 

We had rode most of the way to the dam when I watched a deer jump out of the woods. Now this damn thing was running straight beside us at an angle. I quickly did the geometry in my head and knew we were going to crash with the damn thing...  But early that day Wooly had told me in his not patient with me anymore way “Do not question my madness!” So I being scolded once, I decided to not question his madness.  That was almost a fatal mistake that I will not make again…Lesson learned!  Always question any madness!

When I could see those big brown eyes almost staring straight into mine I decided it was time to react to this bad situation… I screamed "duck! "while  I grabbed the top of Woolly’s head and pushed both of our bodies as close to the bike and as flat as I was capable of doing… At the same time the deer had to of thought, those stupid f@$king bikers and decided to give it her all and jumped over us… Now in this nano second all three of our lives had changed…  The deer actually jump right in between Wooly and my heads even in our flattened state it barely missed both off us...our long haul biker friends was behind us and watched the whole thing unfold before their eyes too…

After the deer jumped over Wooly and me, she jumped over the car that was going the other way, I however did not see it because I still was holding Woolly’s head down to the gas tanks of the First Wife… When we had came to a complete stop in someone’s drive way our long haul biker friend was screaming at us “Did you not see that fucking deer? What the hell is wrong with you?  Did you not see that fucking deer?”   I think he was more upset then we were over the whole deer jumping thing.   Don’t get me wrong I was shook up but I did not thinking yelling was going to change anything and I was  just glad that Wooly and me was not road kill...

The drive back to the lake house was very intense we were all watching for deer and probably going as slow as an old lady driving to church...  But somehow we managed to make it back to the lake house alive without any more deer incidents.   Once there we hoped in the boat and went to the local cove bar for a drink or two... I just keep thinking them deer can't get  us now...Safe for the night!