Why do we name our bikes? Or for that matter, our cars, boats, or snowmobiles. You name the vehicle and someone has given it a name. My friend Merv, RIP, had an orange custom he called Tigger. All over Columbus people knew Tigger and knew that it was Merv’s scoot. I had a chance to ride Tigger once and it was quite the experience. I miss Merv. Even though he’s been gone for a good many years now, he still lives on in my heart, along with memories of Tigger.
To those of us who eat, sleep, live and die with motorcycles, they are more than just machines. The don’t just take us from point A to B, they transport us away from the grind. When you throw a leg over your scoot, your soul relaxes. You begin to remember past rides and start planning new ones. A scoot is your friend and confidant. How in the world can it NOT have a name? It breathes in air and farts fire for chrissakes. It’s tame and yet wild at the same time.
So, we name them. Ol’ Red. Tigger. Gray Ghost. Misty Blue. Or my current partner of the road, Dusty Rose. We name them because they become a part of us. We take pictures of them. Some of us get ink with their names or pictures. We wash them. We feed them. We talk to them, and they listen. We give them love, and in turn they give us the world.
They are family.
To all my friends past, present and future. I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!
*Card curtesy of Easy Riders
I’m going to start up a new ‘feature’ of this blog. Earlier I posted my review of a Cardo Freecom 4+, so I figured I should force my musical tastes on y’all as well (grin).
First up is a kick-ass rockabilly self-titled album from a group called The Devil’s Daughters. Now the cats that make up this group ain’t new, in fact they all have been making killer tunes for quite some time. Their sound is pure rockabilly with a bluesy twist that really helps the miles on those boring freeway stretches fly by.
Continue reading “Ride With The Devil’s Daughters”
The Azul Restaurant & Lounge in Mill Creek Town Center advertises itself as a Latin American Bistro, and that description really fits the place. We went there to try out their brunch offerings, and we were not disappointed in the least. The place is Mill Creek upscale, with solid middle of the road pricing. Plenty of lighting without being too bright, and just the right amount of decorations. The place has a very comfortable feel to it.
The brunch menu includes a good selection without being so overbearing as to cause one to take hours to decide. I went for the Chicken Fried Steak & Eggs. First off, no, I don’t have a picture. I don’t take pictures of my food when it may distract other diners. If you’d like to see a pic of it, please visit google maps or their Facebook page for pics.
The chicken fried steak was out of this world with a very light seasoned breading and fried perfectly. It was served with a chipotle jalapeño and corn gravy that was running on all cylinders. It had some back heat but it wasn’t unbearable by any means. The dish came with two over easy eggs that were perfect, along with black beans, country style potatoes and pico de Gallo. Really well done.
Beth opted for the Chicken Chipotle Cobb Salad and loved it. A massive lunch salad that could easily feed two folks. Or one that happened to be my size. (coughs)
If you happen to be in the Mill Creek Town Center I strongly recommend you stop in. We plan to go back for dinner soon and I’ll let you know how it goes.
Rubber side down and forks full,
Couple of years ago I traded in my 2014 Street Glide for an ’18 Heritage Classic. Love the scoot and I’ll post a long overdue writeup soon. One of the things I missed, however, was my tunes. Man, I dig the sound of a big ol’ Harley motor as much as the next gear head, but for long rides nothing beats being able to bring my mystical motorcycle music along for the ride.
I looked into sound-bars, but didn’t care for the look. Speakers were an option, but where to mount the amp? Singing is always a possibility, but then I swallow too many bugs and get too full to eat my burger. What to do, what to do.
Continue reading “Mystical Motorcycle Music”
Yes, you read that right. Chocolate hummus is at Trader Joe’s. Chickpeas, tahini paste, seat salt, oil, cocoa and a little sugar. It is CRAZY good! I know what you are thinking, ‘Gregor, you’ve been into the martini juice a little early’. I swear, not a drop. Not even a drunk olive.
The taste is like a semi-sweet chocolate mousse. Almost like Nutella, but with sesame seeds instead of hazelnuts. Sounds insane, but man does it work.
For the perfect bite, take a Stroopwafel, spread the chocolate hummus all over it. Then warm the stroopwafel over your mug of coffee in the morning and….boom. You’ve found heaven. Love this stuff!
Intersting title, no? Many people attribute this quote to Ernest Hemingway, but as far as historians can tell, it’s not true. I love Hemingway, so who cares. It sounds like something he would have said.
It should come as no surprise that I love reading. My favorite contemporary authors now are Clive Cussler, who’s main character Dirk Pitt is a true “Man’s Man”, not to mention the action is pretty much all based on underwater archeology. Stanford has a wonderful FBI team. And Jance hits home with action in Seattle and Brisbee. The novels these folks turn out are wonderful summer reading. They keep you entertained, and you feel like you know the characters on a personal level.
But they aren’t Hemingway, Kerouac, Salinger or Bukowski.Continue reading ““Write Drunk, Edit Sober””
It’s Friday afternoon and you feel the stress of the whole week hanging on you like the coat of a wet Newfoundland. You get home, cast off the crap of the week and grab your go-to pack and run out the back. Your buddy picks you up and you head to hunting camp. Finally.
Once at the cabin a fire gets started and somehow the best steaks you’ve ever tasted are on plates as everyone settles in for a serious nosh. After dinner and the plates are washed, the cards and whiskey come out.
Stories begin to flow through the cabin like the smoke from the cigars.
Whaddayamean a straight flush don’t beat 2 pair? Yer crazy, man! And on, and on. After I win…well, in my memory at least, we all crawl into our racks. I’m nervous about the morning, but not willing to show it.Continue reading “Serenity on the Tree Stand”
The Eagle wasn’t always the Eagle.
The Eagle, before he became the Eagle, was Yucatangee, the Talker.
Yucatangee talked and talked.
It talked so much it heard only itself.
Not the river, not the wind, not even the Wolf.
The Raven came and said, “The Wolf is hungry. If you stop talking, you’ll hear him. The wind too. And when you hear the wind, you’ll fly.”
So he stopped talking.
And became its nature, the Eagle.
The Eagle soared, and its flight said all it needed to say.
– Marilyn Whirlwind (Northern Exposure)
“Tolerance implies no lack of commitment to one’s own beliefs. Rather it condemns the oppression or persecution of others.”
– John F. Kennedy