Alexandria, Louisana on a Saturday Night

Discussion in 'Ride Reports - Epic Rides' started by Daniel Meyer, Aug 27, 2006.

  1. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    Shogani, a particularly gifted photographer, writer, and adventure rider, recently gently reminded me that lurking about isn’t participating in a community. Yeah, I’ve been a member a while, but mostly lurking. For some, a heavy cruiser isn’t an adventure bike. I know otherwise, but somehow I’d forgotten that others would understand that too.

    She also reminded me, as I read through her Alaska trip, as I laughed with her, cried with her, and relived some of my own memories, pains, successes, and failures on that route, that by lurking about I managed to miss some of the damndest threads.

    So, here we go. A ride report. AdvRider style . . . (well, sort-of) . . . I’ve included more pictures than I usually do . . . but not as many as I was striving for. The camera would have drowned you see . . . well maybe you don’t . . . but that’s part of the story.

    Y’all (that’s a technical Texas term) will forgive me a bit of a preamble?

    I’ve always striven to include more in my writings than the simple, “I went here and did that” type of narration. To understand our experiences . . . to effectively communicate them, I feel that at least some of the rider’s motivations and state of mind have to come through. A good story doesn’t just tell us where and how, but also why.

    I’m not claiming that I’ve always succeeded. Why? Hell, half the time I don’t know myself. The other half of the time I’m not sure. The next half I think I know, but probably don’t. Oh, what? Three halves don’t make a whole? Heh. That’s probably part of the problem. There’s a couple dozen more halves to make an accounting of yet.

    We are more than we can see. We are more than we can say.

    Anyway, that’s the reason for any “non-riding” stuff that follows.

    Thanks.

    -dm

    Alexandria, Louisana on a Saturday Night
    subtitle: (Do I know it? No, but I can hum a few bars....)

    A random song lyric popped into my head, complete with the music. Ghaaaak! Sometimes that just plain hurts.

    We’re just living with the hope
    Only love can save us now
    Cross that river to the shore
    With no one else around

    See those angels on the air
    Smiling faces never show
    With the joy you can’t compare
    Watch the daylight come and go
    (shine on, shine on)
    Watch the daylight come and go



    “Hmmmm.”

    Carey, my wife, looked sharply up at me. She knows me well, I guess. Something in my tone had alerted her to the fact that I was about to do something unusual. Hmmm . . . maybe "unusual" isn't the correct word. I do "unusual" things all the time. "Leap" might be a better term. She was alerted that I was about to "leap."

    She raised an eyebrow, “What?”

    “Well . . . I think I’ll go for a ride.”

    That’s not unusual. I commute daily, and take my machine everywhere possible. I ride so much that I’m invariably surprised when I go get in “Big Iron”, my faithful 450HP V-10 Dodge truck, and she actually starts. Heck, every time I got in her last year I had to renew some annual registration, inspection, or whatever. At least I’ve driven her more this year than usual. Heck, I can think of 5 or 6 times right off hand!

    [​IMG]

    She already knew this wasn’t gonna be some around the town thing, and looked a bit alarmed. “You have to work tomorrow.” She knows how close to the edge I’ve been. How little it would take to push me that little bit needed to simply walk away and leave the company I’ve invested 21 years of work into, laying behind me in the ditch.

    Yeah. Work. That’s been part of the problem. My company’s been outsourcing, and in a long, drawn-out, and highly improbable series of overtly incompetent events, has jerked us around for nearly a year. I just now got a job offer. I accepted, but I’m still not sure I did the right thing. It came down to the money. Believe or no . . . but for me . . . before last week . . . It. Has. Never. Been. About. Money.

    I’m not sure what part of me I just sold, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t get enough for it.

    “Honey?” her voice sounded far away but called me back to the real world. I’d drifted off. It’s happened more than normal lately. My soul was somewhere out on the road, wondering where the rest of me had gone.

    Carey’s one of the reasons I don’t just dump it all and run. Fifteen years we’ve been married and still I dream about her. Fifteen years and still, when I’m out on the road, it’s her that calls me home.

    Music is a passion of mine . . . intertwined into my life, influencing and punctuating it’s events. I thought of her and a lyric drifted to mind, along with a flood of the intense and confusing feelings of pain, loneliness, accomplishment, joy, and simple, raw lust that permeate me after a month alone on the road.

    I can’t stand the distance
    I can’t dream alone
    I can’t wait to see you
    Yes, I’m on my way home.


    “Honey?” It was more urgent this time, yet somehow gentle.

    I looked sharply up. “Hmm? Sorry.” Damn it! I’d been gone again. Long gone. Maybe close to lost. The soul of a wanderer is a pesky thing. I blinked and decided I'd better go find the wretched thing soon.

    She repeated herself, “You have to work tomorrow.”

    I smiled at her. “Yes, I know. I’m not going tomorrow. I’ll go Saturday.”

    But the thought went unbidden through my mind, “Yeah, if I can wait that long. I ride to work . . . maybe tomorrow will be the day I just keep going.”

    - - - - - - - - - - - - More in a bit!

    (Don't panic...I know there's a picture of a truck, but it is a motorcycle tale.)
    #1
  2. LaOutbackTrail

    LaOutbackTrail Certified Smartass

    Joined:
    Feb 8, 2005
    Oddometer:
    5,060
    Location:
    Denton, TX
    So what about my hometown? Sorry, I didnt read it all.
    #2
  3. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    Rode there. Finnegans Wake. The Killdares. 662 miles. Kicked ass. Found my soul.

    Ur...now darn it...you're making me give away the rest of the story. And I haven't even posted any pictures yet. :eek1
    #3
  4. LaOutbackTrail

    LaOutbackTrail Certified Smartass

    Joined:
    Feb 8, 2005
    Oddometer:
    5,060
    Location:
    Denton, TX
    take your time.... its ok.:lol3
    #4
  5. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    (continued)

    Carey’s eyebrow raised again and she smiled quirkily. I’m sure she knows what I was thinking, but she didn’t comment.

    “So, what’ve you got in mind?”

    I grinned uneasily. My soul makes the demands, dictates the desires . . . it doesn’t always give me a hint of how to express them.

    “The Killdares are playing. I think I’ll ride over and see ‘em. Should be a nice night-ride home.”

    The Killdares are a kick-ass Celtic Power Rock band. Heavy percussion, steel guitar, bass guitar, Highland bagpipes, and fiddle. With a unique, dynamic, and powerful sound, they can absolutely rock the house down. Seriously. You’ve missed out if you never heard them. They’re from right here in Dallas, Texas and we go see them every chance we get. Yeah, I sound like a commercial. No, I've got no finiancial interest/dealings with the band. I'm passionate about music, remember?

    Carey’s eyes lit up. “Really? Cool. I’ll come with you.”

    That was the tough part. Carey will ride with me, but doesn’t do long distances. She’s also not as heat-tolerant as I am (I was born and bred here in Texas and love the heat). This was not a minor ride.

    Those of you that are married know you just can’t say, “No.” and then explain. You have to answer with the explanation or you’re doomed to a horrible fate.

    Even if you are correct.

    I grinned a bit, “They’re playing in Alexandria.”

    She looked thoughtful. “Is that a new club?”

    “Ur. No. That’s a city.”

    Her eyes widened. “Alexandria, Louisiana?”

    “Yep.”

    Alexandria is over 300 miles from Dallas. And that’s the short way. The heat warnings had been up for days. We were on our 30th day or so of over 100 degree temperatures, and it wasn’t dropping below 80 at night. For the unprepared and un-acclimatized, riding in the Texas heat can be downright dangerous. There was no way she’d make this ride.

    “Ah.” She was obviously disappointed. “Let’s just take the car. I’ll come with you.”

    It just got tougher. I smiled. “Honey, I’d love to have you with me. You can meet me there if you’d like, but the destination is only an excuse.” I took a breath and looked toward the window. I desperately wanted to see the sky. “I’ve got to ride.”

    That last was said in strained, clipped words. All she had to do was ask again and I’d say okay. We’d take the car.

    That’s when she got it. Often times she understands more than I do.

    As long as I can remember I’ve taken long rides nearly every summer. Last year I did Route 66. The year before I did Alaska. Before that it was the Midwest. Every time it’s different, even if I go the same place. Every time I come back a better man than when I left. Lord only knows where I'd head next time. Then I realized with a start . . . Lord only knows if there'd be a next time.

    This year I’ve not been out. Mostly I’ve commuted, and I attended a couple rallies, but I’ve not taken one of those long, soul-changing trips. I’d put them off due to the uncertainties about my job, and now that I have one again, I find I’m not any more certain about the situation. Besides, vacation at the moment is difficult to come by.

    More music ran through my head:

    And the days and the nights of my childhood
    Drained through my hands so fast
    Receding waves lost in the ocean
    Grains of sand trapped in the hourglass


    Somewhere in the back of my mind I’d realized I wasn’t going to get out this year. Somehow I’d realized that my soul had left without me.

    Carey had just realized that too. She nodded at me and her eyes softened. “You need a ride. Go.”

    ***​

    So, what’s with work that makes it so bad? (shrugs). That’s a long a sordid, complicated, boring, depressing, and not quite completed tale. Even I’m not interested in that . . . but I will post some pics of my office, just for grins.

    It’s the old bomb shelter. We’ve got glorious concrete beam ceilings, exposed pipes and wires, unshielded, and direct florescent lighting (the remaining few that actually work). A professional atmosphere it’s not. Yeah, I’ve worked in worse places, but at least I could see the sky.

    Lately, we’ve got rats, crickets, and days where the sewer gas leaks into the work area and it smells like . . . well . . . it smells.

    It’s a dank pit. Any wonder I like to get away?

    My cube:
    [​IMG]
    Note the double caffiene shot...a coffee and a Diet Coke! One of the signs taped up over the pics of my book covers says, "Never meddle in the affairs of dragons, because you are crunchy and taste good with ketchup". Works well, since I have a nickname . . . or "handle" of Dragon. Yeah, I know many picture that being acquired in some testosterone-soaked chest-thumping incident that involves very little brains and an abundance of alchohol, but it's actually a much longer, complicated, and older story. Maybe I'll tell it sometime.

    The cube farm:
    [​IMG]
    This is actually a flattering picture...as the camera did fairly well in the low light conditions. To be fair, not all are burned out. We have to take the bulbs out of the sockets above the desks or we cannot see our monitors in the glare.

    Yeah, this is an environment condusive to creativity, productivity, and employee health...(did I mention the sewer gas?)
    [​IMG]

    ------------more in a bit
    #5
  6. GB

    GB . Administrator Super Moderator Super Supporter

    Joined:
    Aug 16, 2002
    Oddometer:
    67,826
    :lurk
    #6
  7. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    (continued)

    Okay. It’s established that I’m going. The only person on the planet whose input will influence the demands of my soul said, “Go.”

    Already a burden has lifted. Come hell or high water, I’m friggen gone. Strange twist of fate that both of those would actually come.

    Work took more attention that week. My schedule just changed . . . I’m back on night support. Not necessarily a bad thing. We’ll have to wait and see. Oh, and the frustrating thing about work? Well, I love what I do. Really. I’m also good at it. What could be the problem then? Hell, I don’t know. Best as I can figure, there’s nobody in our company driving the bus . . . or if they are . . . they’ve been drinking heavily.

    A bit of work to rearrange the schedule, more work to see if the Dell corporation was trying to kill me again. Dell seems to have this thing about selling me “flaming bricks of death”. I’ve been a part of every recall they’ve had for batteries and also the little brick power supplies that were burning houses down a couple years back . . . oh, and the laptops a couple years before that . . . and the power supplies in the desktops before that and . . .. It’s actually a high number of recalls. Scary stuff . . . that.

    I’m amazed to find that my thousand dollars worth of laptop batteries aren’t actually on the recall list. I don’t believe it though. Not for a second. Their track record of trying to blow me up in a spectacular way is hitherto unblemished. They won’t quit now. Look for the “flaming brick of death” battery recall to significantly expand.

    Even as I type this . . . I'm kind of eyeing the laptop sideways and ready to toss it off my lap. There! That accounts for any of the many typos you're bound to find in this report. Yeah, that's it. "Flamingbrickofdeathicitious" is the inability to type brought on by tenderness associated with flaming bricks of death being plopped on the lap . . . far to close to "the boys".

    Dell is NOT, by the way, where I got my “Likely to suffer spontaneous flaming death” nickname. That’s yet a different story that I’m sure I will tell later . . . but probably only after a very long ride . . . and after I get laid (a long ride of a different sort!)

    ***​

    So, I’m going. I let a couple friends know in case they wanted to come with me, and posted it on the VRCC board and my forum in case others wanted to meet there.

    My friend Dean took me up on it. Dean rides The Big Orange Couch. That’s his 2002 Goldwing. At least, I call it The Big Orange Couch, as I don’t think he’s named it yet. Bikes’ve gotta have a name.

    The Big Orange Couch needed a final drive oil change before we left, as Dean, like any wise Texan, had been putting off maintenance during the summer. We tend to put that off for the deep winter, when the temperature drops below 100 F for a day or two. It’s hard to squirt 80w/90 into a Goldwing gearbox if the lube catches fire as it exits the bottle. Makes for a pretty cool flamethrower, but most riders don't really relish pointing a flamethrower at the rear end of their ride. The sizzling noise and cooking bacon smell that is your ass burning up on the scorching pavement is a bit distracting anyways.

    I figured we’d find a patch of morning shade and get it done before we pulled out so I told him to “come on.” He said he’d see me before lunch Saturday.

    The morning of the ride I woke excited, and with a lighter spirit than I’d had in some time. Strange that it was effecting me that way. I’m no stranger to riding. I’ve been doing this for years, and 1000-mile “spur of the moment” rides are not terribly uncommon for me.

    As I thought about it I realized that the “spur of the moment” rides WERE becoming uncommon for me. Responsibilities and limitations . . . self-imposed and otherwise . . . had changed the way I lived so slowly that it had snuck up on me. I wished I’d understood earlier. There’s not much I’d change . . . I’ve few regrets in life . . . but I’d definitely change this.

    Maybe it’s not too late. After-all, I was about to go on a sort-of spur of the moment, unplanned and unmapped ride. With new excitement I fairly bubbled about the trip.

    Pity I couldn’t seem to get anybody else in the house to share my enthusiasm.

    Normally I get up at 4:30am for my commute to work, but on the weekends we tend to sleep in. I should have been able to, but couldn't due to wanting to ride.

    Waking the wife to make sure she didn't really want to endure hours of slogging through 300+ miles of record Texas heat got me a fine ADVRider salute.
    [​IMG]

    Hmmm . . . it didn't . . . actually . . . mean that she wanted to go, so I figured it meant the literal interpretation of the symbol. Cool! There are some advantages to being married! I thought to myself as I took a flying leap back into the bed. She kicked me out. Unfortunately, it didn't mean what I thougt it did either. Sigh.

    Next, I went out to talk to the cat.
    [​IMG]

    Yeah, he cared deeply about it. Sigh. I'm pretty sure he's flipping me off too . . .

    BTW, here he is in an older photo just to give you some scale . . . he's a twenty-two pound Maine Coon. You should see him when we really stretches out. That's a yard stick (or a 0.9144 meter stick . . . or a 0.181818182 rod stick) behind him!
    [​IMG]


    Well, if the wife, and the cat want to ignore me, how about the dog. You know, man's best friend and all that?

    Yeah. He perked right up when I started talking to him
    [​IMG]

    But when I got to the part about slogging through the record heat
    [​IMG]

    Yeah. That's what I thought.


    Now, everybody knows the trick to beating Texas heat is . . . cholesterol!
    [​IMG]

    See, it's like this. Heat melts things. Cholesterol is from fat . . . and is a thing . . . and heat melts it. So, if you don't have plenty of things . . . stuff . . . whatever . . . in you to melt, well then . . . it'll just be you that melts, right? So . . . that's eggs and the makings of a BLT sandwich . . . and the requisite Texan's glass of iced tea (the civilized world would not exist without iced tea, I assure you). I'm . . . ur . . . saving the dog bone to gnaw on later.

    Breakfast done, It's time to crack open the door to the record temperatures
    [​IMG]

    It wouldn't have suprised me to have flames rush in under the door.

    ----------more later.
    (In the last 36 hours I've ridden 12 hours, jammed for 4, worked for 10, mucked about with friends and family for 8, slept for 2)
    #7
  8. Wipedout

    Wipedout Adventurer

    Joined:
    Jul 24, 2006
    Oddometer:
    39
    Great writing style - looking forward to more ..:lurk and lord do I know Texas Heat (and yes it is capitlized for a reason) :1drink
    #8
  9. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    Thanks! The rest of this report is coming. There's also a couple hundred thousand words of the stuff on my website (disclaimer, no popups etc, but I do publish/sell books).
    #9
  10. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    (continued)

    More music was playing in my head.

    When the door shuts
    Don’t worry about me
    It’s not attention that I want from you
    I need you to trust who I’m going to be
    and in everything that I’m going to do


    Folks often ask my wife how she can be okay with “letting” me go ride by myself. In 2004 I was gone a month for my Alaska trip. Three weeks in 2005 for Route 66. At least two weeks together in every prior year, sometimes longer. The truth of the matter is that she does worry, but long ago learned that there is an element to my spirit that would simply die if confined.

    Because I’m not afraid of what I don’t know
    For understanding is all that I yearn
    What is for sure is I’m going to go
    I going to live and I’m going to learn


    I mentioned it above, but a wanderer’s soul is a pesky thing. The problem is that it can’t be confined, at least not in any permanent way . . . at least not without destroying it. Carey knows me well enough to let me fly.

    And I know there will be mistakes that I will make
    But I know they’re no worse than chances I don’t take
    Right before your eyes I’m changing.
    New life on the inside
    I am changing.


    She knows that for me, riding is a time to test the man. It’s a time to charge the soul, gain perspective, and help me to process and understand the world around me and my place within it.

    When the door shuts
    It shuts finally
    A new person that I have become
    I’ll follow my heart to my destiny
    The living in fear and the sorrow is done


    I stood in the garage a moment, wondering at the intense loneliness and other confusing feelings coursing through my soul. The taste of them is familiar, but usually reserved for those uncertain moments before and during a very long ride when I’m not sure of my course . . . when I’m not sure I’m headed the right direction.

    “Direction” has little to do with the course of the motorcycle however.

    Why do we all end up alone
    Why do we always have to find our way back home
    Why do we all end up alone
    We gather no moss, just like a rolling stone


    Enough angst. Riding recharges me, and I’ve always known it. I just hadn’t realized how badly I needed it this time.

    The hell with it. It was time to fly.

    As the door rolled up on the bright Texas day I was pleased to find my friend Dean and The Big Orange Couch had just arrived and were waiting outside.
    [​IMG]

    I do like to ride alone, but having friends along is nice too . . . as long as the group doesn’t get big enough or you’re unfamiliar enough with the other riders that the group itself (not the individual riders) begins to impact the dynamic of the ride.

    In the end, we all ride alone anyway.

    I walk a lonely road
    The only one that I have ever known
    I don’t know where it goes
    But it’s home to me and I walk alone.


    I wouldn’t have it any other way.

    Preflight on a Valkyrie is easy. She's shown here in a picture from some damn mountain or other in Colorado this summer. Seems I forgot to take any pictures of her before this trip. 14,000-and-something feet come to mind (highest paved road in North America).
    [​IMG]

    Oh, yeah. The preflight. Hmm. Still got tires. Can’t poke a pencil through the tread.
    [​IMG]

    Yes, that’s a car tire on the Valk. Go HERE if you want to know more about that. Yes, it can turn (I drag hard parts all the time). No, I don’t think it would work on (insert any 500 pound machine name here). The key is “heavy cruiser”. Valks, Rockets, Wings, some others. Remember Muscle cars? These are Muscle Cruisers. "Power Cruiser" I believe is the term coined for the Valkyrie.

    Yes, I know I’m a test pilot.

    I like being a test pilot.

    Add some fresh batteries for the MP3 player and a map and we’re good to go!
    [​IMG]

    The mp3 player is important. I'm pretty sure the Valkyrie won't run without tunes (I mentioned I'm passionate about music, yes?) Oh, and yeah, someday I’ll update the mp3 player to an IPOD or something similar. Right now I’m sticking with the Panasonic CD/mp3 thingy. It holds close to 12 hours of music, runs 50 hours on 2 AA batteries, and for some reason, just won’t friggen die.

    It quit once on the Alaska run . . . when I was on my way home and somewhere in British Colombia and slogging it through the same damn storm system for the 3rd day in a row (I’d ride the storm all day, break out of it late in the evening, it would pass me in the night, and I’d catch up to it in the late morning). Anyway, I went to change the batteries and had to dump several ounces of rain water out of the player. I noticed the water was kind of muddy, so I submerged the thing in a stream to clean it out. Lather, rinse, repeat until foamy. Add new batteries, wipe the bigger droplets off the CD and presto! Still working.

    Now, I’m not old fashioned or anything, but it’s earned its place. If it’ll run, I’ll use it.

    May as well check the mileage. If I don't take a picture, I won't remember what it was. Mostly, to me, miles are irrelevant.
    [​IMG]

    Hmmm. Damn near 94,000 miles. Might actually have to do some service on this machine someday. Valkyries rock by the way. I do maintain my machine well, but basically abuse her with reckless abandon. Those haven’t been easy miles, and aside from normal interval maintenance items (tires, oil, filters, battery) all I’ve had to do in all these miles is change one weeping seal, replace the alternator brushes, and replace the pinion joint (kind of a cupped/spline joint on the final drive). The brushes and pinion I could make the case are normal wear items, but I won’t quibble. And, oh, that's not counting the parts I've torn up. Smudged crash bars, scraped off pegs, and worn out touring bells (Gremlin Bells) are just normal wear items.

    [​IMG]

    ***​

    Dean decided to take a nap.
    [​IMG]
    . . . or maybe that was changing the final drive oil. That’s about a 5-minute job on the ‘wing . . . which is a very good thing. See that sun creeping down the truck and into our shadow? When it reaches us we’ll roast ala Chronicles of Riddik so it’s time to get gone.

    Oh, and yes, that’s a car tire on The Big Orange Couch too. Go HERE if you want to know more about that. We're just a radical bunch, down here in Texas.

    Credit cards, money, and first born all in the wallet to sacrifice to the oil companies, and we're ready, willing, and equipped.

    It was time to hit the road.

    I couldn’t get much higher
    My spirit takes flight
    Cause I’m alive


    -------------more in a bit
    #10
  11. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    (continued)

    Why did it all go wrong? – I wanna know what’s going on
    And what’s this holding me?
    I’m not where I’m supposed to be

    I gotta fight another fight
    I gotta fight with all my might
    I’m getting out – so check it out

    You can’t take me – I’m free


    I hadn’t turned on the mp3 player yet. The songs in my head still hadn’t run down.

    I'd kissed the wife on the mouth, and tweaked her on the butt. Yeah, I'm a guy. So? Sometimes I do it the other way around, but we had company. Another tweak and it was time to go.

    Dean and I were southeast bound out of the metromess and the heat was already chasing us down. We had elected to hit the minor and back roads on the way down . . . the long way of course . . . and we’d super-slab it back at night to avoid the worst of the wildlife.

    I am NOT a fan of the meat-cutting cables TXDOT is installing everywhere.
    [​IMG]

    Seems we’ve had a few high-profile "cross-over" accidents and there’s a vocal minority contingent wringing their hands and screaming, “Please won’t somebody think of the children!” so TXDOT is under pressure to physically divide all the freeways. Unfortunately, the medians have been graded so that any errant car or truck will be pulled to the center to decelerate. Extreme cases will cross over, but most folks will get a chance to recover without serious damage. We used to call these “run outs”.

    To physically divide the freeway safely, they need to grade/fill the median flat and provide drainage, and then add the beveled concrete barriers in between. That gives cars/etc a shoulder to play on and a chance to recover, but can also stop the extreme cases from actually crossing over.

    But, of course, to save money, they are NOT grading the median and are installing the deli slicer cables seen here. Sometimes they put them in the bottom of the ditch, but the result to any motorcyclist will be the same, even in a minor/slide type encounter. Either cut into slivers on the cables or split half in-two on the metal poles. I am seeing these cheap installations all over the state now. Beware, and instruct your family to sue TXDOT for all the money they saved if you are ever sliced up by these things.

    Next slide please . . .
    [​IMG]

    WooHooo . . . ur . . . I mean . . . how’d that get in there? Uh . . . Just seeing if you’re paying attention. Yeah. That's it. They do grow ‘em nice up Canada way, eh?

    Ahem. Time . . . To . . . Move . . . On . . . Yes . . .

    Ur . . . Oh, yeah. Next slide please . . .
    [​IMG]
    I’m not sure what I was shooting at here but Oh my god look at the hair on the back of my neck! So that’s where it’s going. Hmmm . . . that explains the little oriental gal that cuts my hair. When it comes time to trim the back she invariably pulls my shirt away and mumbles, “Oh . . . my . . .”

    Ah well. It was coming up thin on the top of my head anyway. Glad to know it’s not lost, but rather, it’s misplaced.

    In something like 35 miles we were out of town. Finally. That’s the short way. If we were headed west I’d have to stop for fuel before we left the city(s). I snapped a picture of Dean just for the heck of it.

    [​IMG]

    I’ve done this before. They make great desktop wallpapers and stuff. Here’s Dean and his wife a couple years ago on Well Oiled Machine.
    [​IMG]

    Dean got her (Well Oiled Machine, not the wife) from me when I went all Valkyrie and stuff. I built that Midnight Special . . . hence the reason it can break the sound barrier.


    Okay, not really.
    [​IMG]

    I did build it, and it was hell out fast, but when Dean was breaking the sound barrier it wasn’t humid enough for the compression waves to show up. (thanks to my friend Dan for the ‘shop job)

    Well, I’ll leave it at that for tonight. Continued tomorrow. I’m probably supposed to be working or something.

    -----------more later
    #11
  12. Deano955

    Deano955 Insatiable

    Joined:
    Jan 14, 2005
    Oddometer:
    4,645
    Location:
    Calirado
    First ride report I've seen with toe. :clap

    [​IMG]
    #12
  13. Lobby

    Lobby Viel Spass, Vato!

    Joined:
    Nov 30, 2003
    Oddometer:
    30,207
    Location:
    San Antonio, Tx
    I'm liking this ride report a whole bunch.

    :lurk
    #13
  14. ErikL

    ErikL Been here awhile

    Joined:
    Jul 31, 2006
    Oddometer:
    115
    Location:
    Seattle
    You're from Texas, but have you ever been to the civilized world? ;-)
    #14
  15. Daniel Meyer

    Daniel Meyer Adventurer, Electrician

    Joined:
    Dec 4, 2003
    Oddometer:
    83
    Location:
    Texas
    Ur . . . yeah. That civilized world would be Texas :D
    #15
  16. achesley

    achesley Old Motorcyclist

    Joined:
    Mar 16, 2003
    Oddometer:
    3,567
    Location:
    Jennings, Louisiana
    And the next installment please. Interesting style of story telling. :lurk
    #16
  17. LaOutbackTrail

    LaOutbackTrail Certified Smartass

    Joined:
    Feb 8, 2005
    Oddometer:
    5,060
    Location:
    Denton, TX
    Yes, Quite different. I'm like a little kid though and only read the captions to the pics.:lol3 Nice C-toe on the Canda chick....:wink:
    #17
  18. Meathead

    Meathead tin man

    Joined:
    Jun 10, 2004
    Oddometer:
    16,667
    Location:
    Upstate SC
    Mmmmmmm . . . toe . . . :dg





    Carry on, DM. :thumb


    ps: My pop is from Alexandria. I need to go back, I don't remember the last time I visited.
    #18
  19. PackMule

    PackMule love what you do

    Joined:
    Aug 8, 2005
    Oddometer:
    19,493
    Location:
    New Hampshah
    While I enjoy a report with scads of breathtaking pics as much as the next inmate, my favorites always seem to be well-penned tales. This one qualifies. :nod :thumb


    :lurk
    #19
  20. jorge

    jorge Been here awhile

    Joined:
    Feb 25, 2005
    Oddometer:
    838
    Hey Daniel, i am a Valk fan too. Perhaps its time you prepared to replace your ride with this one... less miles and it needs a good home. ADV is a place for all bikes really!

    Let me know when i should deliver it to you :wink:

    ( whoops smugmug is down...:cry ) I'll post a pic and send you the link with more pics later.


    Perhaps you know someone who wants to adopt her...
    #20