Hittin' Reserve...

Day Ride to Paducah

2011-03-26T16:24:00.003-05:00

A recent Saturday in March brought sunshine and temps in the mid-seventies. A rare opportunity and one I decided not to squander. A quick operational check of the airhead and I was off for one of my favorite day-ride destinations, Paducah, Ky. Paducah has one of the fastest growing artist communities in the nation and, for a small town, much to do and see.

I four-laned it to Union City before hitting mostly back roads the rest of the way and made a short stop there to take a picture of the Goodyear Plant destined to close at the end of the year. It will be a devastating blow to the region and a familiar scenario faced by many areas around the country as jobs move overseas or simply disappear.

Above: Goodyear Plant in Union City, TN soon to close. Good paying jobs gone!

I arrived in Paducah and parked the RS near the old part of downtown. In the warmer months the streets are blocked to motor traffic on Saturday evenings and the townspeople host a street festival with carriage rides, music acts, and the occasional car show. It is really an amazing thing for such a small town with people everywhere milling about and taking advantage of all the restaurants and shops. During the festival one of the side streets is reserved for motorcycle parking and it is often full.

Above: Venerable RS!

Downtown has some beautiful old buildings, landscaping, and a sea-wall covered in murals. The locals have rightly preserved things and take pride in showing it off. I spent some time there walking around snapping pics or sitting and enjoying a coffee. The weather was absolutely perfect and the planets lined up as well.

Below: A series of shots from downtown Paducah.

Above: Even the alleys are beautiful!

Above: I can just imagine this theater in it's day!

Above: The river was up a little...

Above: Murals along the sea-wall.

Continuing my ride I headed west on I-24 to Grand Rivers, Ky. I stopped at Four Rivers Harley Davidson on the way to take in some of the bikes and have some free popcorn. The dealership is always full of people and the parking lot has some interesting sights. Harley has their marketing down right!

Above: Impressive Harley Dealer in Paducah.

Grand Rivers is a small tourist town that sits at the north end of "The Trace" that runs through the Land Between the Lakes Park in Kentucky and Tennessee. The town and park contain anything one could possibly want to do from mountain biking, horseback riding, boating, and hiking to just simply taking it easy. Patty’s Restaurant resides there and is one of the not to be missed attractions. I only stopped to take some pictures and then began my ride down through the Trace.

Above: Painted Lady in Grand Rivers.

Above: Is there anything more beautiful than sailboats?

Above: Buttercups along the Trace...

Above: ... and Bison

Above: The airhead along the Trace

The ride down the trace is laid back and beautiful. The speed limit is on the conservative side and you want to observe it anyway because of all the deer and turkey in the park. It’s not unusual to see some on the 40 plus mile ride.

Exiting the park I went a short way west before turning south down highway 232, one of the more fun roads in the area, and favored by the sport-bike locals. I then turned west again and lucked up on a ferry that crosses the Tennessee River and not only shortened my ride home but made it more interesting as well. I don’t like to pass up a ferry ride if I can include it on my route. The fare was seventy five cents!

Above: Looking west across the Tennessee River. Home is in that direction.

I arrived home a little after dark. A good ride and a good time all within easy riding distance of my West Tennessee location. Hope you will take advantage and enjoy as well.

New Years Day and the Olde Bike Club

2011-01-02T15:15:00.009-06:00

Above: Sidecar Cafe on Whitten Road in Mempho

The “New Year’s Day Ride” has become common but not unimportant to motorcycle enthusiasts everywhere. This blog and a thousand other outlets will herald the ride as a hopeful indication of good roads and quality mileage in the coming year. My own annual observance has found me in the company of some fine folk in the past. From a couple of close friends dicing the back roads of West Tennessee to the attendees at one of the larger cruiser crowd’s “Blue Ball Runs”. And, on a couple of occasions, I have ridden solo - myself with my thoughts in contemplation of things to come and the balm of the road.

Above: Parking out back...

Above:And, on the other side. Note the striking black RS...

Above: A new/old classic...

Weather is a factor. Those in kinder climates may only face the question of rain while some in harsher conditions may not be able to overcome the logistics of getting a bike out after a six foot snowfall. There is a piece by Peter Egan wherein he mentions his garage door freezing shut for the duration of winter and, I remember riding one year in a freezing mist when ice formed on my face shield. The distance traveled is proportional to the conditions but, we try.

New Years Day, 2011 I’m on my way to Memphis to intercept the starting point of a polar bear run hosted by the Olde Bike Club of Memphis. My distance from Memphis makes it prohibitive to attend many of the club’s events midweek (having previously attended only one breakfast ride – my introduction to the club) but I like to, on occasion, make myself a nuisance to unsuspecting groups of riders and this day is prime for party-crashing. Really, the club is an informal, unpretentious group of enthusiasts with a love for classic bikes. There are no dues or officers and you won’t find much on the web about them but, they are a great group and very welcoming of anyone with similar interests. A simple email list keeps them connected.

The temp was mid-30’s with a predicted high of 43º when I headed out. I plugged in the venerable Widder vest, the one with a controller the size of a chemistry textbook and the appearance of a piece of Flash Gordon memorabilia. It does the job in that, while not always keeping one toasty warm, it will ward off death by exposure – maybe. I got there late and after the main group had left, of course, finding some other late arrivals waiting on a couple even later than they. One gentleman was on a really clean 77 RS, another on a late model oihhead, and another on a KLR. I had previously concluded that one is not necessarily required to actually ride an old bike to identify with this club but can pass muster if one owns or, has an appreciation for said “old bikes”. The last of the stragglers showed up on beemers and we were off to intercept the larger group along the route by virtue of one of the gentlemen in possession of a map and a keen familiarity with Memphis driving habits. This is good because I know Memphis like I know women.

We arrived at an intersection along the route prepared to stop and wait on the main group when they came rolling through. A gentleman riding sweep with attached sidecar motioned us in front of him. We finished the route along some great twisty roads lined with some of the finest homes I've ever seen. Seems incredible that some of these roads would be in such close juxtaposition to the hustle of Memphis but that is one of the advantages to hooking up on a ride of this type. Those in the know can turn you on to something you might not have found on your own.

Above: Interior shot...

The ride concluded at the Sidecar Café on Whitten Road. This was my first experience with the establishment and it was all good. A parking lot full of bikes, well appointed bar, big-screen TVs, plenty of tables, good food; and nice-looking, efficient barmaids made for a great experience. I’m still not too familiar with the members so, spotting a table with three faces I thought I remembered from the breakfast ride, I horned in and introduced myself. I wasn’t about to do the seventy miles to Memphis, the ride, and home in the cold without someone able to testify I was there. They (apologizing - it will be sometime before I can remember all those names) again, were great, gracious people and we shared some stories and laughs for a while before I had to start back. They encouraged me to think about making the moonshine lunch run in April. While familiar with the run, I had never attended and committed to doing it this year.

Above: Luck dinner special - Ham, greens, black-eyed peas, and Jalapeno cornbread. Starting the year out right!

Above: Some ADV inmates and occasional Olde Bike Club affiliates. Great folks. Author on far right.

Arriving home thoroughly chilled but satisfied from the ride I found Debbie (long suffering wife) in the process of preparing a pasta dish accompanied by a bottle of Merlot. She is good like that but - she wasn’t about to indulge me in watching the Three Stooges marathon on AMC, at least not in the same room with her. Maybe I could go to the garage, turn on the TV, plug in the Widder…

<p>&amp;amp;amp;lt;p&amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;small&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;a style="color: rgb(0, 0, 255); text-align: left;" href="http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;source=embed&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;geocode=&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;q=robilio%27s+sidecar+cafe+memphis+tn&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;sll=35.230477,-89.928589&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;sspn=0.264173,0.492325&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;hq=robilio%27s+sidecar+cafe&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;hnear=Memphis,+Shelby,+Tennessee&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;ll=35.18526,-89.835258&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;spn=0.196417,0.291824&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;z=11&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;iwloc=A"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;View Larger Map&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/a&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;!--&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/small--&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;br&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/small&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;div class="zemanta-pixie"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;small&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;img src="http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=1f046c63-0d2e-8741-9e9a-148583ba525e" alt="" class="zemanta-pixie-img"&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/small&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;lt;/div&amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;amp;gt;&amp;amp;amp;lt;/p&amp;amp;amp;gt;</p>

Day Ride: Hwy's 89, 190 & 105

2010-11-30T17:22:00.017-06:00

We all wish we had the wealth of Warren Buffet, the stamina of Lance Armstrong, and the leisure time of a hobo but, in the real world, work and family obligations limit us to a more realistic existence. That is, few of us can take off on that cross country motorcycle trip at the drop of a hat. Most of us manage a couple of extended trips a year with an occasional overnighter here and there if we are lucky. The “day ride” is the backbone of our riding experience. Out the driveway trips familiar and doable in a day consisting of way stops and destinations of favorite eateries, parks, or landmarks. It doesn’t matter if the trip is 50 miles or 500. I’ve several memorized rides of varying lengths and sometimes don’t know until I leave as to which one it will be; it just depends on conditions and my mood. And, I’m inclined to mix it up, constantly making up now loops out of existing ones. I bet you do the same.

Above: Start/Stop point in Trimble, TN.

In the interest of a West Tennessee focus this entry is to highlight a loop I often do that will be enjoyable for anyone in the area. You can start anywhere on the route but, for the sake of a start/stop point, I begin the route in Trimble, TN. Rural West Tennessee is hard to beat for pastoral settings and good roads in peaceful contrast to the Wal-marts, hamburger alleys, car lots, and yard sales one encounters in lockstep with areas of rising population. Approximately 120 miles depending on the riders inclination to hurry or "smell the roses."

Above: Just one of the many beautiful settings along the route.

Above: Temp on this morning traveling through Sharon, TN.

Be sure to stop at the China Grove Country Store. The establishment is run by members of the Mennonite faith and offers deli sandwiches to order and all kinds of hard to find goods. Take home a jar of Pickled Jalapeno Eggs. Just don’t expect to find them open on Sundays. Stop also at the store in Skullbone for some history and a postcard.

Above: China Grove Country Store near Rutherford, TN.

Above: The store in Skullbone, TN.

Above: Kountry Korner Restaurant/Convenience Store in Dresden, TN. Ordinarily not my kind of stop but, on this day, half-price sausage & biscuit after 11:00 AM and a bench out front.

Above: Some roadside trivia.

Above: Along the route near Christmasville.

Above: The tracks in Trimble, TN.

Check out the map for the aforementioned stops and a couple other points of interest.

View 105, 190, 89 in a larger map

Parker's Store

2010-11-13T10:31:00.013-06:00

Parker’s Store is one of those jewels of back road America not easily found. A mom & pop type of establishment disappearing fast from the rural landscape. In my youth stores like this were abundant. Stores with parking lots consisting of equal parts gravel and bottle cap, duo pumps out front, and next to the front door a Wonder Bread bench held down by some old timers. Near extinction these. Better get it in now or forget it. Located near the little town of Lavinia in West Tennessee Parker's is a favorite Sunday morning haunt of mine and a few other riders that have discovered the store's charm. David Bullington, member of the BMW Riders Association of the Mid-South (RAMS) and a local, first pegged the store as a breakfast destination and starting point for Sunday rides. The area is crisscrossed with some of the best roads to be had in this part of the state. Rolling farmland and long sweeping curves start where the parking lot ends.

An overhang out front shelters the front door and two picnic tables where coffee is mixed with a little bench racing. A mule resides in the lot across the road and across the road ain’t far. On Sunday mornings you will find motorcycles parked around helter-skelter and patrons exchanging small talk with the now familiar riders. Inside a mix of grocery shelves juxtaposed with a few tables and chairs and a small kitchen surrounded by a counter where you retrieve your coffee and place your breakfast order. Just give the cute girl your name with the order and she’ll holler it out when it’s ready. None of the coffee cups match, the pancakes are bigger than the plate and - oh yeah, the sausage is homemade. Homemade sausage will have you slapping somebody’s momma if not your own.

This past Sunday it was 28 degrees when I left the house. I had put on all my gear including the ancient Widder vest and, with the exception of my hands, stayed very comfortable. The ride to Parker’s from my house is a little over 50 miles and I tend to stick to the back roads. Makes for a nice early morning ride. There were only a handful of riders there when I arrived. Not too many daring the cold on this morning. Breakfast was great and, by the time I was ready to leave, temperatures had warmed into the high 40’s. Trying a different way home I discovered a road I had previously ridden parts of but not it's entirety. It turned out to be great ride and I’ll be sure to highlight the road in a future posting.

Try Parker’s some Sunday if you are in the area and want some good food and like minded riders for company. The coffee and breakfast are 8:00'ish and rides start about 9:00 or 9:30. Or, make your own ride. Myself, or any number of riders there can put you on to some excellent riding.

View Larger Map

Coordinates:
Decimal:	35.902, -88.575
GPS:	N 35 54.142, W 88 34.481
Deg., Min., Sec.:	N35 54 9, W88 34 29

Talkin' Dirty II

2010-03-21T10:26:00.002-05:00

The project evolves, surfeit with complications. Just trying to re-cover the seat involved the purchase of an electric stapler that did not work any better than my manual. The electric did allow me to waste staples at a much faster rate so, there must be a break-even point in there somewhere. I'm not sure what material KTM uses for their seat bases but I'm convinced it would make a suitable anti-missile shield in combat applications.

Any old bike and especially dirt-bikes require fixing things you had not counted on. Every bracket, screw, hanger, nut and bolt is guaranteed to need some degree of fabrication, replacement, or restoration that did not figure into the original calculations when you thought you were getting such a deal. Almost every project I've begun found me diligently keeping receipts to proudly justify the restoration and give record of the money saved. At least until I realized the project was no longer a bike but instead a life sucking money-pit with cosmetically, good-running, counterparts on the market easily purchased and enjoyed for much less coin. One 1986 Honda XR100R comes to mind. Worth approximately $600 I began conveniently losing the receipts at about the $700 mark. No sense in continuing to document my foolishness.

Talkin' Dirty

2009-12-22T09:07:00.002-06:00

Sometimes one's past sneaks up and taps one on the shoulder. "Psssssssst, hey buddy. Why don'tcha buy a dirt bike and start riding again, huh. Maybe even do a hare scramble or two. You always liked ridin' in the woods. More racin' out there now than you can shake a stick at and 52 ain't that old. Yeah, wife'll understand."

I intone a reply in my usual sophisticated way, "Huh, whazzat?"

Which brings us to the new addition. A very tired 1996 KTM 360EXC bought for cheap but destined to not remain that way. Already the parts I've ordered total more than what I gave for the bike. I can only blame the situation on too many YouTube videos and a delusional self when it comes to my own physical abilities. I'll try to chronicle some of the rebuild here.

Like many riders my age, I had some Moto-X and cross-country experience from the 70's and 80's before moving to the street and sport-touring scene. I flirted briefly with the dirt scene again just a few years ago. That time it was also a KTM. A 250EXC in a box. I rebuilt the bike and headed fro the woods a few times and had fun but decided I no longer enjoyed just riding around on a few acres and soon sold the bike. Competition wasn't even considered. This time I'm excited about the prospect of racing once again. A little research revealed that there are many series out there offering both Hare Scrambles and Enduros and the super-senior class is very large and very competitive. This should prove interesting.

SideStand Up

2009-11-19T23:55:00.001-06:00

(Photo courtesy of SideStandUp.com
OK, I actually snagged it.)

In my bleary eyed internet wanderings (way too much time there) I occasionally come across something a little different and worth bookmarking to explore further. SideStand Up is one of those sites. Tom Loudermilk is the creator and from his bio one ascertains he is a much traveled rider and genuine motorcyclist with an eye for delivering motorcycle content in a fresh way. He bills the site as "The Worlds Only Motorcycle Radio Road Show" and hosts a weekly live radio broadcast via the website with quests from a cross-section of the motorcycling community. A person can listen in live each week or tune in to past shows archived online with a click of the mouse. I listened to an interview with Carla King, author of American Borders, and really enjoyed the format.

Tom has a cadre of correspondents on the road reporting in for followers to enjoy, a YouTube channel, and a good mix of additional content for fans of the site. The radio shows have a call-in and live chat feature one can advantage and, for facebook users, a presence there as well. The site delivers on providing substantive content on "riding" and not posing. I encourage you to spend a little time there.

Strawberry's

2009-10-17T14:32:00.001-05:00

A recent ride found me accompanied by a group of questionable character in search of a place to eat on some obscure recommendation. Not the best situation. We were searching for an establishment named "Strawberry's" in Holcomb, Missouri across the river from our home in West Tennessee. Before arriving we would question the existence of not only Strawberry's but the town of Holcomb as well. Yeah, we got lost.

Really, it was an enjoyable ride and getting lost happens when you are following your nose and ignoring the gps. We just went in a general direction and stuck to the backroads. We also decided crossing the Mississippi river on the conveniently accessed bridge would have been boring. We opted for something a little more unique, a taste of how they used to do things.

(Dorena,Mo/Hickman, KY Riverboat Ferry)

(Ferry approaching)

This building was close to the ferry landing. Very old and unusual. No one could offer any explanation as to its origin or purpose?

(Ideas?)

(On board!)

(The Missouri side.)

Not many ferries survive in the region now. Do some research to find those that exist near you and try to include them on a ride. This trip was my daughter's first ferry ride and I'm sure she will remember it vs. crossing some bridge.

(#1 daughter.)

Yes, Virginia there is a Holcomb, Missouri. We found the elusive town after some map-reading, nose-following, turning around indecision and wandering. Holcomb is in the Missouri boot heel portion of the state and very close to the river. Its another of those small, tired but proud little towns trying to hold on. Go for the history and food but don't expect any remarkable roads. This is river-bottom country and it is - flat! But, just go. Its an excuse to ride and it may be a destination you haven't considered.

(We arrive.)

Strawberry's is famous in the region for their pork steak and dry rubs. This was our first trip and due to our indirect route we arrived well past the lunch hour and found them out of steaks. Seems one needs to call ahead and reserve the appropriate number to ensure getting one. Oh well, we made due with other items from the menu and found them good if unspectacular. In defense of the establishment we were late and they may have been a little off their game. We'll just have to go back and try again.

The interior was part lounge, beer-joint, and pool-hall mixed with some small town diner. My kind of place. No franchised fast food place here, only the real deal.

(Our desination.)

Coordinates:
Decimal:	36.443, -90.030
GPS:	N 36 26.591, W 90 1.775
Deg., Min., Sec.:	N36 26 35, W90 1 46

Barber Vintage Festival 2009

2009-10-14T14:18:00.006-05:00

If you dig bikes and especially if you dig old bikes then don't miss the annual Barber Vintage Festival. I've never been to Mid-Ohio's vintage celebration but, Barber is its southern counterpart and fast becoming a premier venue for cycle nuts like me.

This was the 5th year and a little soggy but no one was deterred by the weather.

(Below) Some swap meet inventory.

(Below) The museum.

(Below) Some of the bikes...

Gallery here.

A Clean, Well-Lighted Garage

2009-09-09T08:48:00.003-05:00

Funny how we shape the world around us. To suit us I mean. This pic was inspired by one over at ADV - a picture of an old beemer in a lighted shed out back, taken from a darkened yard. This one is not so artistic but I reflect on how the final symmytry of my garage was not intentional, not by design but a result of function over form. Yet it is a slice of my world and what's important to me. I look at the picture and I'm instantly comfortable. Old beemers, old triumphs, backroads, and good times represented here. Apologies to E. Hemingway.

Skullbonia

2009-04-13T21:30:00.010-05:00

Saturday was looking good. Sun and a promised high in the upper 60's - a combination that has been lacking in West Tennessee this April. But sometimes things just come together. My daughter accompanied me to many BMW rallies in the 90's and she was to accompany me on this day, the first time she has ridden with me in quite awhile and, we were taking my recently revived R100RS - the very bike that carried us to all those rallies. But, where to go? Where to go that you haven't been a million times?

Short day rides can be a problem. The local color can be obscured by our familiarity and proximity. If the Alamo is in your backyard you may fail to share the wonder with the multitude of invading tourists. I'm not talking Alamo here though. I'm talking quaint, hidden, off-the-beaten-path, in your backyard treasures. Not something you would travel a thousand miles to visit (though we riders need less motivation for just such a trip) but something you would be sure to share with cousin Bob or whoever just may have traveled a thousand miles to be in the area and, well, may as well show him/them while they are here.

My daughter has never been to Skullbone. Time to remedy that.

(Below) The bike.

(Below) #1 daughter.

(Below) The Hampton Store in Skullbone has the history and nomenclature affixed to both sides of the building. This seems to be the totality of historical content available on the subject. At least googling it did not reveal much.

(Below) This signage is at the intersection diagonally across from the store. The owner came out and told us that someone had stolen one of the signs the night before. You can see the blank space left in the middle. He added that he would have to pull out an old picture to make a duplicate.

The ride totaled approximately 200 miles and I was happy that Jesse still enjoyed a ride with dad. In the future with more time I will share some pics of the interior of the store and perhaps more history if I can glean some from the locals. I have a feeling they will be quick to share.

Godspeed

2009-02-24T23:26:00.002-06:00

I don’t think it inappropriate to mention my father-in-law in the first post of a motorcycle blog. He did, after all, ride a Harley 45 over much of Europe during WWII and continued to ride Harleys for years after he returned to the states. I, typically on some “other” brand, provided material for a good-natured ribbing from him. If it wasn’t a Harley it was a “popsicle” and that was that.

He was in the 512th Military Police Battalion during the war crossing the Atlantic on the Queen Mary that had been converted into a troop ship. He went ashore at Normandy after the initial invasion and soon enough that the bodies of the fallen were still there. Years later, addressing his church congregation about his war experiences, it was when he came to this part that I saw him brought to tears for one of the few times in my life. He also saw duty at one or more of the liberated Nazi death camps and I don’t think he was ever able to fully understand the horror done there to other human beings. How could anyone? He had good memories too and enjoyed sharing them. Mostly of his friends he served with and his experiences learning to ride and wrangling duty on the Harley. I was able to attend a couple of army reunions with him and met some of those of which he spoke. Real men, all.

He came home from the war, married, worked, and eventually started a successful business. He raised three children and - I married his youngest daughter. I told him in the reception line at our wedding that I would always love her and take care of her. He squeezed my hand tightly looked me in the eye and said, “God bless you.”

Thirty years later I am still married to his youngest daughter and I had him with me longer than I had my own parents. In those thirty years neither he nor my mother-in-law interfered with my life one iota except to be supportive and loving to my own family. I never heard my father-in-law curse, never saw him wrong anyone, never heard a disparaging word spoken of him – wouldn’t have turned out well for anyone that might have.

This past Christmas Eve morning he passed away suddenly. I already knew before his passing that he was the finest man I had ever known.

I’ve never owned a Harley but I am beginning to look at them differently. I find myself noticing them more. Not so much the newer ones, shiny and without personality, but the older ones. The older the better with a patina of age and character. Something with some miles on the clock.