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The sun was just beginning to peek over Lookout Mountain when I headed out for the designated rendezvous point in Tellico Plains, by-God-Tennessee. I always love to leave early like this, as the clouds are just beginning to break over the mountains and the mist/humidity rising from the valleys paints the mountains pale blue; the added bonus is most of the time it’s empty highway so the riding is really good. Figuring in the time zone shift, a fuel stop and the distance I had at least 45 minutes to spare since I was 15 minutes late getting out the gate; that’s still time enough to chew the fat with Mike and the un-met Willthethrill grab a cup of coffee and just hang and enjoy the morning. The first leg of the trip was uneventful slab riding, up I-59 to I-24 around Moccasin bend at the foot of Lookout Mountain and east through Chattanooga, then up and over Missionary Ridge past Chickamauga and on to Cleveland..

Once I got to Cleveland (the home of ArsenalTim) my plan was to get off the oh-so-boring I-75, take the US 64 loop half way around Cleveland and hit US 411 for some early morning scenery. Okay, so maybe my usual taking pencil notes from Google Maps on a Post-It was sub-par. Maybe the guy on the bicycle with the weird box full of toggle switches and the aluminum trailer distracted me. Maybe the friendly guy on the 1995 KZ-1000 Police bike that wanted to know if the America was a TR-6 got my attention when it was time to turn. I found myself at an intersection with I-75, some three miles north of where I had just exited for a nice scenic lap around Cleveland. Realizing I had 15 minutes of my time pad and any useful directions I might have written down it was back onto I-75, for north was where my rendezvous point lay. Some 20-25 miles later I exited just south of Athens on TN 30 and pulled into a handy BP station. My plan, fuel first and then ask directions and hope the attendant would have a clue. This older guy was leaning against the building having his morning smoke, puff, hack, puff, hack, puff, hack. When he finally enough wind to talk he started in on what now has become a mantra “You like that Triumph? How old is it? Sure is purty, did you them (inset accessory here) on yerself?” After acknowledging the youth of the bike and admitting yes to the rest I explained that while I knew where I was supposed to be going I was mostly lost. Two sentences later he had given me perfect directions and off I rode to join Mike and the gang. I missed the turn onto TN 39 in Etowah because I was staring at a lovely British racing Green Trophy sporting a For Sale sign, I would go back later for a closer look. 39 made for a good warm up for the upcoming ride, lots of tight twisty whoop-de-doos and a couple of tailgaters to get the antennae up and working.



I found Mike and Will waiting at the Cherohala Market along with Rob (Mrt202), his dad and his uncle both of whom were antsy and ready to ride. Moments later Mark (b717doc) and John (Big Poppy) pulled up and the group was assembled. The howdys and wassups took too long and Rob’s gang left ahead of us, understandable since they were itching to go and didn’t relish the idea of sitting around waiting for us. Following potty breaks and stretching Mike gave us a quick briefing on the ride and we were off, destination Robbinsville, NC and some real NC Bar-B-Que.


What a glorious road, nice sweeping turns, excellent climbs and few tight twists just to keep your attention focused. Mike is an impressive rider, fluid, graceful, one with the bike and makes quite a good leader so the 50 plus miles just melted away. I could have stopped at every single turnout but, after all, we were there to ride, not gawk. Still, the leader took care that we got a couple of nice stops including the Santeetlah summit and I got a couple of representative snaps to share.









We also saw a veritable plethora of Milwaukee Iron, the obligatory groups of Wingers and a few BMWs, all of who were enjoying the great riding conditions. Even the “chip and seal” mile at the end of the Skyway (which we call tar and gravel ‘round here) didn’t dampen my enthusiasm, although I’ll admit my spine tightened up when the rear wheel started squirming around. I’ll say its too bad NC doesn’t apply the same nice roadbed standards that TN does to the Skyway, the difference was that obvious.

Once in Robbinsville we headed directly to Mike’s BBQ spot, and, it was shuttered with a couple of tattered For Lease signs hanging on the chains blocking the parking lot! We regrouped at the local mini mart and got directions to another local joint, The Sweetwater Smokehouse. One thing’s for sure, if you’re in NC BBQ can’t be very far away and never hard to find and this spot was 300 yards from Mike’s old haunt.

After lunching and munching we headed for Hwy 129 and the legendary Deal’s Gap. My original plan had been to part ways with Mike and the group at this point and retrace the Skyway because I just didn’t want to brave the Memorial Day throng. However, my confidence was up and I gladly followed along like the sheep I am, right along to the Deal’s Gap Resort, into that mass of Milwaukee Iron, into the parking lot full of riders with questionable skills, and right into the store to buy Mrs. T a Dragon tee shirt. Then pictures of the Tree of Shame, aimless photos of a gazillion HDs strewn in the most disorganized fashion in the parking lot, and a quick snap of my riding buddies. ...








…which is where I noticed that John still had his jacket on. Bless his heart, the man is a rider, not a parker and he was ready to go. I think I held him up every single time the group was ready to go…



Mike led us out onto 129 where we got stuck behind a group of slow, oh-so-very-slow HD’s. Some cat on a Springer Softail was riding drag for them and I swear he put his foot down a dozen times in the turns heading up to the summit, I actually though he was going over one time. Later I realized he was guarding his group and it was the group in shorts and tee shirts in front of him that lacked the skills. No matter, for that first half of the parade we only lacked a caddy Convertible and beauty queen. We broke off in the parking zone at the top and sat for 6 or 7 minutes until there was a sufficient gap in the traffic (and I got some more snaps) and then on we plowed, this time at a better speed.



It was at this point that I think I may have actually seen 30 mph on the speedo but truthfully I was really concentrating on the road and watching Mike lead so that’s likely just braggin’ on my part. Watching Mike ride from behind has a slightly mesmerizing effect as he’s just so darn smooth and fluid, so who knows? Still, it’s my story and I’m sticking to it. I did manage to grind the kickstand one time, not because I was trying but because I got into a corner too hot. The turns are just that tight.

Once out of the turns we cruised along side Chilhowee lake on US 129, miles of great gentle sweepers and fine riding. A left turn at the biker’s hangouts in Wellsville put us on TN 336 and a fast track to US 411 where we would part company. There Mike and Will headed north toward Knoxville and Mark, John and I headed south toward Atlanta.




After stopping for fuel in Etowah we split up, I was headed back to look at that Trophy and John and Mark were headed home. The Trophy was in pretty good shape appearance wise (who knows mechanically) with 12k miles and an attractive price. I got the phone number and headed south on US 411.

Now you remember the part where I wrote the directions on a Post-It? Yep, that’s right, they were worthless at this point so the return trip evolved into an “it’s not the destination, it’s the journey” trip. South I rode, past Athens, past Cleveland and out of By-God-Tennessee into Georgia. Clueless I was but I knew eventually I’d find a westward road that would ring a bell, hopefully before I got to Adairsville, which would put me well south of were I’d like to turn west. South of Chattsworth I saw a sign for GA 136 to Resaca and turned west. GA 136 runs up Lookout Mountain to Cloudland and over to LaFayette and I knew I could work my way home from there. And what luck, GA 136 between Resaca and Naomi has got to be one of the great undocumented rides in this neck of the woods, coming off the mountain above LaFayette was the “icing on a the cake” for a day of unrepentant riding.

The rest of the ride would have been uneventful, but who knew that Murphy Oil in Triana, GA has pumps that work even though the card reader doesn’t read your card? Yes, that’s right, I drove off after filling up, all the while cursing the lack of a receipt, only to find my mirrors filled with blue lights in Summerville, GA. Fortunately, Summerville police office Steve Bates is a bike owner and quickly came to the realization that geezer-me wasn’t trying to steal Wal-Mart’s gas. Unfortunately, I had to wait 20 minutes for a county Sheriff’s Deputy to escort me back to Triana to pay the poor kid working the Murphy cash register. My life as a fugitive was short lived.

The sun was beginning to set away, way over behind the western hills of Alabama when I finally topped Lookout Mountain in Mentone, AL heading down into the valley and to my home at the base of Sand Mountain. Not a bad ride, just over 430 miles and memories to last for months. Thanks Mike. And, thanks to Will, Mark and John for sharing the road with me.

Dang, Ed busted by the county mounties
I remember you mentioned in Robbinsville how high gas was.
Hmmmmmmmm.

Great write up Ed. I could never put into words the days ride as you well as you expressed it.
Thank you for the kind words,the pleasure was mine.
Until next time ride safe, Mike

Nice write-up and pictures Ed.
I just did a two-day ride and still your write-up and pics and got me both "envious" and inspired.
And now you expect me to sleep (02:30am here) eh .. eh ???

Many thanks and look forward to your next one, whenever that may be.

Ok..I know it was a 2 day delay, but I got home from my solo trip to the Nantahala River in NC on Wed. and let me say..
I HAD A BLAST!!!

We met up at the school to drop Brad off. When they announced that they were loading up, I suited up and hopped on the bike
and headed off. The first 30 minutes or so were great..until I saw storm clouds on the horizon.
It rained in one form or another for the entire 4 hr ride there. 20 miles away from the Nantahala Outdoor Center, the bike
died on me. A nice, cute cop stopped to help me and after standing and scratching our heads for 10 minutes, she fired right
back up and I was off again. 2 miles later, she quit again. I coasted into a driveway and tried calling Mark...no signal.
So I started thinking logically...If I rested for 10 minutes and she started up, then if I waited it out about 20 minutes or
more, then maybe I could make it to my destination. So I waited. To test my theory, about 5 minutes into waiting I tried to
crank and she fired up, so I turned her off and let her sit. It worked. 20 minutes later I fired her right up and made it the
rest of the way without incident. Of course within 1 mile of the Outdoor Center, the rain stopped, and it didn't rain again for
the rest of my time there.

Day 1 Sunday, they ate lunch and immediately 1/2 went down to the tower..a climbing obstacle course 40 feet high. They had fun
and it was great watching them learn to trust each other. The other 1/2 (Brad's group) went rafting on the rapids.

Day 2 Monday, up at 530 and they did PT, and written tests, ate breakfast (lovingly prepared by my crew and I) and were off to a
full day of work. 1/2 (Brad's group) went to the ropes course. Brad took the 20 ft course which consisted of..up the cargo net
and the slanted logs to the first platform, from the first platform was the rope bridge to the second platform. From the second
platform, it was across the tight rope to the third platform then the rope ladder to the 40 ft tower. They climbed up the tower
to the last platform. They left the course by way of a swing attached to their waist harnesses. They had a blast. Brad loved the
swing. After dinner and cleaning were done, I had time for a short hour ride over into Cherokee. It was exactly what I needed
to cool off after all that cooking and cleaning. Back by 8:00 to direct the cadets who were assigned Cleaning and lunch preparation
for failing to do well on their inspections and tests.

Day 3 Tuesday, Up at 530 again and the same routine. This time Brad's group was off to a 8 mile hike down the Appalachain trail, and
the other group was on the ropes. I decided this was prime time for a bike ride. I took off through Cherokee up 19 into the Great
Smokey Mountains. I saw a sign to the side that said "Great Smokey Mountain Park" so I turned off. I stopped to observe a breathtaking
view at Plott's Ballast. It was beautiful. A little further up I stopped at yet another beautiful overlook. At this point I decided to
go back down into Cherokee because I was already showing over 100 miles since my last fill up and I didn't know how much further it was to
the other side. I stopped in Cherokee to fuel up and this time I went past Nantahala on towards Fontana where I found a beautiful lake
nestled in the middle of the mountains. After a little more sightseeing, I headed back to camp to cook dinner (catfish, steak, and potatos).

Day 4 Up early again, and again same routine. Brad's group is at the towers so I head down to watch and get some great pics of them on
the tower and the swing. Finally around 245 they were given closing lectures and instructions and comments, and the bus loaded up.
I put my stuff with my co-parent/cook to carry home, and I loaded Brad on the back of the bike and home we headed. We stopped once
in Murphy for gas and to slather up with sunblock and made it home with no incident, much dryer and much quicker than the trip up.
My first 4 day, so far away solo ride and I think I covered myself well. I handled all situations with a clear and well thought out
plan and made it through none the worse for the wear and a little more confident than before.

Good Job my Kimmy....I was soooo proud of you...you did'nt whine, you did'nt give up, you were a real trooper and I feel priveleged to have you as a wife and riding partner...

WARNING! Very little Triumph content in this post. I thought I'd post this anyway since it might be of interest to some, and the Colorado scenic pics might get some of you to explore that beautiful state on your Triumphs.

This past week I attended the 2008 NAGTSR. Having just bought a 1993 Yamaha GTS1000 a month ago, I thought the trip to Colorado would be a good opportunity to check out the mods on other peoples bikes to get an idea on how to make my bike more useable for touring. I started off last Sunday with a plan to ride the Devil's Highway in eastern Arizona and spend the night in Gallup or Grant's, NM on I-40 the first day. I left at around 5:30 am to avoid the heat since it was 110 in Tucson the day before my trip. After buzzing down I-10 and thro9ugh Safford, I found myself climbing the hill above the mine in Morenci, and the fun began.



Here's a shot of the mine in the distance, one of the largest man made holes in the world.



About 60 miles further up 191(used to be numbered Route 666), there's Blue Vista at 9,000 feet that sits on a ridge where you can see for hundreds of miles both east and west.



After spending the night in Gallup, NM, I met up with FCTush(Mike) in Montrose, Co and he escorted me into Gunnison and the motel I stayed at. Mike rode his America, so there's the Triumph content for this post, but I should've taken a pic.

At Rally HQ there were already quite a few bikes there on Monday.



We spent most evenings kicking tires and drinking beer in the parking lot. One guy even brought a 5 gallon tank of homemade brew that Dinqua would've been proud of. The next day I took a ride down to Crede for lunch and joined up with a couple of guys from Phoenix along the way.

Mural next door to the place we had lunch at in Crede.



I went back to the motel while they continued on the 300+ mile loop they were taking. On the way back I stopped at an overlook of the San Juan Mountains with rain threatening.



When I got back to the motel, James Parker, who invented the front end for the GTS1000, had shown up and was unloading a couple of bikes for us to check out.



Here's a modified GSX-R1000 that was featured in the January issue of Motorcyclist magazine. Parker is the guy standing in the middle with the light blue shirt on.



He was cool about answering any questions, and even let anybody there give it a short test ride around the motel parking lot. I still can't believe he let us goobers ride his $150,000 prototype. Here's a couple of shots of the front end on the Gixxer.





The next day I rode up to Carbondale on hwy 92 and 133, both great roads.







On the way back, I took a dirt road shortcut over to Crested Butte. I think my next bike is going to have some dirt road capabilities. Maybe a BMW GS800 in 4 or 5 years or a 675 Tiger Cub is they make it at least a bit dirt friendly.





On the way back to Gunnison from Crested Butte, I stopped to check out a fish hatchery, but it was empty. I did get the "bike parked in front of a bridge shot".



On Thursday I left for home, and decided to ride the Million Dollar Highway through Ouray and Silverton, even though it's more of a tourist bottleneck than a great road to ride. It did have some great scenery though.







I got home on Friday after roasting the last 3 hours in 100+ degree heat, but it was worth it. Colorado has some great roads and it's worth making the trek. Maybe one of these days we can get FCTush, wrwallpi, or some of the other Colorado contingent to host a Triumph rally up there. I know I'd be in.

Derek my friend, I have to admit that I sometimes forget how good you are with a camera(not to mention the written word), and so thanks for this reminder.



(and getting to meet and talk with such an inventive gentleman as James Parker must have been worth the trip right there alone!!!)

Quote:

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WARNING! Very little Triumph content in this post.

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Triumph content not required... just adventure. Good job.. good story, great pics.

Wow, great pics and story!!!

You wouldn't believe how generous James Parker was with his time and his bikes. You can easily tell the man has a real passion for what he's doing, and it was interesting hearing the conservations between him and some of the long time owners of the GTS who share that same kind of passion. On Wednesday after the ceremonial dinner, Parker went around and signed everybodies front swingarm, and took pictures with the owner and the bike.

So, now about that idea for a rally in Colorado next year...any interest?

as posted by Drivr:

the worlds best motorcycle roads (according to wired magazine)

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Interesting article from Wired
http://blog.wired.com/cars/2008/07/ride-the-worlds.html

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Is life a road? I post this with that thought in mind.

Crossroads
After loading my tools and equipment and saying goodbye to the people I had worked with and grown to care deeply for, I cranked up the cd player and turned myself north. In the highway home, now a familiar friend, I found comfort in the gentle sway of the SS as I made my way into an uncertain future. While indulging my melancholy mood, I rounded a turn to see a black SUV that had apparently just collided with a tree.
I drove by slowly looking at the vehicle to see if someone was inside... no other cars in sight, I turned around to find her sitting behind the wheel as if she had just pulled to the side for a rest. The dust from the air bags still in the air, I asked if she were okay.. "No".. she whimpered looking at me through a badly swollen eye and cheek. "My hip hurts bad" she says climbing across the console. "Stay still" says I as she went on to beg me to just take her home.
The front of her vehicle absolutely destroyed, folded up as so much tin foil from her impact with a tree. Very lucky to still be with us I thought.
Her pleas touched my heart as she went on to say she didn't need this DUI that would absolutely screw up her life. I tried my best to comfort her explaining that she had been involved in a very bad accident and needed to to be checked out by a doctor. "I couldn't get anyone to drive me home" she sobbed.. "I just live down the road, please take me home." " I can't" says I... " I'm sorry".
"Hows my mouth?" she asked, " Your mouth is a bit swollen but your cheek and eye look a bit bruised but I think you'll be fine."was my reply.
Meanwhile a guy on a bike who also stopped was on the phone, she asked him to not call 911 repeating that she just couldn't do this. In my calmest tone I explained that we all make mistakes and while she thinks it's the end of her world, this too will pass and all will be alright in time. "you don't know my parents" she sobs.. "they'll disown me." " I'll lose my job... I have screwed up my life." " Please, please don't call 911.." she sobs. " They're already on the way and there's nothing we can do to change that now," I replied. " You need to see a doctor" I added once again.
"Please go to the hospital with me she cries".. "I can't do this".. I did my best to comfort and console her as every emergency responder in the world showed up and began the process of managing the scene. The first EMT quizzed me about what I knew as he checked her for injuries. The broken look on her face as she gave in to her fate burned into my mind as she told him about the 4 beers she'd had before attempting to drive herself home. She kept glancing over his shoulder to me as I stood outside the door holding it open as he did his job. I softly mouthed, "everything will be fine" to which she slowly nodded the negative.
He stepped away from the door so I reached down and picked up her drivers license and credit card that had spilled on to the ground. I reached them out to her with a comforting smile, I paused briefly to read her name.. "Amber?" I asked, " Amber Royce" she said.. and with that I made sure she'd seen that I dropped them into her purse.
19 years old she was.. just a baby.. a baby that has just hit a bad streak of luck that will inevitably change her life forever.
As the Sheriffs deputies arrived I was asked if I were a witness.. "no" said I.. "I was just driving by". "Well then you need to leave" was his reply. " But she asked me to stay" I said. " She'll be taken good care of and we need to clear everyone from the scene" he said. Not feeling on top of my game to begin with or willing to engage a police officer in witless banter, I decided that he was probably right and I had done whatever good I could have done.
Reaching around him I gently took Ambers hand and told her once again that everything was going to be just fine. Again she slowly nodded her head no..
So with heavy heart I slowly walked back to my car.. all my tools and broken dreams packed inside I slowly made my way home. The ride was long and solemn as I pondered my day, should I have stayed? Should I have asked where they were taking her so I could go and be there for her? Would she even remember me if I had.. these thoughts filled my head and added to the weight of my heart.
It's all up to you now Amber Royce.. you've been given another chance so make the best of it. You've got a whole world of opportunity in front of you and lots of life left to smooth over the ripples. Sorry I couldn't be there for you for the long haul but I know that though today things look bad.. tomorrow, or the next day, they'll look just a little bit better. And I'm sure you have many friends and family to help you along your way.
Though we'll likely never meet again, I'll always carry those 30 minutes on the side of hwy9 at our crossroads with me and I can only hope they offered her just a bit of comfort in her time of need. While glad I could be the voice of calm reasoning, I simply didn't have more to offer, for today I was feeling very...old.

no more words...

Old is the price you pay for wisdom.

What you did was quite admirable and relatively rare these days.

She'll remember.

And you'll find what you're looking for as well.

"you've been given another chance so make the best of it. You've got a whole world of opportunity in front of you and lots of life left to smooth over the ripples. Sorry I couldn't be there for you for the long haul but I know that though today things look bad.. tomorrow, or the next day, they'll look just a little bit better. And I'm sure you have many friends and family to help you along your way."

Excellent advice.

You did the right thing, when you stopped and when you departed.

Chy,
You know I have girls almost that age. If one of them were to make a similar mistake, I cannot think of another soul I would rather have find and comfort them until help arrived.

I took a little trip this past weekend to meet my HD riding brother in Virginia and the Blue Ridge Mountains:

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I've never taken a trip or done anything, really, with my brother Tim since I graduated from high school. It wasn't from malice, it's just what happened; I graduated from high school and two weeks later I was in the Coast Guard at the USCG Academy in New London, Connecticut and I never gave it any real serious thought. Lately I've come to realize that song about you'll wish you had the time back is pretty much on target. Last year he got his first bike and started riding and this summer I thought it would be a good idea to take a "Dos Hermanos" bike trip and share a little fellowship.

With that plan in mind we emailed back and forth and the weekend of July 25th popped up as a possibility. We made plans to rendezvous in Salem, VA at the Days Inn and the next day we'd tour the Blue Ridge Parkway from Roanoke to Boone and let the road guide us from there...

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I got carried away and it's too long to post here so it's continued in five segments at my bike blog My Great Rides

Roadie great story nothing like a long trip with a loved one

My 14 year old daughter and I did the southern swing of our covered bridges of Georgia tour over the weekend. This was by far our longest ride and our first overnight bike outing; 3 covered bridges and some beautiful little towns - 575 miles in two days. We took around 400 photos, here are some favorites.

Day 1: Up early and kickstand up at 7 AM and headed south on GA 20 to Griffin to meet up with BA.COM member WADE and his lovely wife for breakfast. This is a familiar 45 mile stretch of road and takes us through little towns that we know well enough to take them for granted. After breakfast, Wade joined us on the quest to find the Red Oak Creek covered bridge. Wade told us that the road was paved on one side of the bridge and dirt on the other but he was not sure which side was which. We rode south on U.S. 19 to Zebulon GA and turned West onto GA 18 for the ride through Concord and over the Flint River at flat shoals. Turns out that this took us to the dirt road side and so after 3 miles of VERY interesting riding on newly graveled road we arrived at the first bridge of our southern tour.






We crossed the bridge to the paved side and headed for GA 85 south to GA 74 East and back across the Flint River to Thomaston GA. Like many older towns, Thomaston is organized around a central courthouse square that serves as both waypoint and rotary and before the age of the interstate and bypass, and outlet mall was the main destination for shopping, dining, and visiting. In Thomaston, we stopped for lunch at English’s’ Café on the square.



Here we were joined by Wade’s friend Dale for the short ride to Auchumpkee bridge just south of Thomaston and a couple miles east of U.S. 19.







Back at 19 we parted company with Wade and Dale and we headed south through Butler, Ellaville, Americus and into Albany where we found a cheap hotel room, split a big steak dinner, showered and collapsed in a heap.

Day 1 totals: 2 Bridges – several town squares - 225 miles.

Day 2: Up early (again) and headed south through Albany to GA 62 West. Here is where southern GA becomes hard to distinguish from north central Florida. With no hills to impede them, the road makers did what was easy and laid down mile after mile of flat, straight asphalt. This is where the flatlanders grow cotton and peanuts and the farms slide by on both sides of the road. The trees here are dangling Spanish moss and there is almost always water standing in the ditches. In the cool of the morning, it gets foggy here and watching for deer and turkey buzzards in the road becomes paramount. Along this road we found Arlington, GA. Not on our itinerary, but worth a momentary stop for a couple of pictures, and for Rachel to get her play list in order.





We left Arlington with the sun on our backs and made our way to Hilton, GA just 2 miles from the Alabama border and the southernmost bridge on our list. The Coholee creek bridge.





From Hilton we crossed the Chattahoochee and made our way to Dothan and then north on 431 to Eufala, AL which may just be one of the prettiest historic towns in the south:







From Eufala it was 431 North to Phenix city and back across the river to Columbus, GA to catch U.S. 80 back to U.S. 19 North and home. It was in this stretch that the sky opened up for 15 miles and soaked us to the bone. It was the only rain we had on the trip and we were dry by the time we got back to Thomaston, so I cannot complain.
15 minutes from home I finally stopped in one of those little towns we take for granted and took this photo outside the antique shop in Rosebud.



Day 2 totals: 1 Bridges – several more town squares - 350 miles.

Hey , I had fun , wish I could have gone the distance with ya . That shot in Eufala of the cafe with the red door - Derinda and I sat at that little table with the two chairs a couple of months ago .

Maybe next time we can get tossed out of English's , Miss Vicky is a character .

P.S.- Dell wants to get rid of that Honda and get a Triumph - I told him he was unworthy .

So Monday was a normal day in some respects, motor back to Thompson Falls along a path I have taken a number of times. Mount Vernon, WA south to Snohomish & turn east on Hwy 2 over Stevens Pass and onward.

As I am learning is common in the coastal rain forest of the Pcific Northwest, the skies were low and threatening. Tooling down hwy 9 the winds were gusty and a sprinkle felt at times. Glancing to the east I could sipher heavy clouds banked up against the Cascade range. Once on hwy 2, I reconciled myself to getting very wet heading up the 65 or so miles to Stevens Pass, but knew I'd have 300 miles after cresting the top to blow-dry. A stiff tailwind blew me through the canyon onward & upward, clouds keeping pace with every mile. For some reason with all that threatening, I got through with nary a drop. Did see 3 Washington motor-patrol cops with various drivers pulled over for flagrantly disregarding the local speed laws. Trees were whipping back and forth pretty good.

Dropping down the Wenatchee side into the Columbia river basin, it got warmer and warmer, but again I planned to quickly zoom back up the other side to Waterville and lunch at the Coyote Pass cafe'. I have learned this Triumph has an affinity for Bohemian food stops, like the Hope Icehouse & Pizzaria in Hope, ID or the Music Cafe in Troy, MT or Worden's Restaurant in Miss-Zoola. Pulled pork, cole slaw and bean lunch pretty tasty, but not quite like what is served in Memphis, TN or parts of that country. Now the wind was blowing a steady 30 mph and gusting higher as I crossed the 160 or so miles of wheat country to Spokane. Miles of endlesss fallowed fields caused a lot of dust to cloud the sky, the cool wet winds of western Washington were replaced by visions of the dust bowl. At times vision was shortened considerably. Moki Larry of British Columbia used to say those hot dry winds messed up the electrons and got our equilibrium out of synch. I felt out of synch. Fortunately it was another tailwind and I felt like a tumbleweed. Periodically pulled over to drink water and collect my dimishing wits. A couple HD guys pulled out ahead of me in one small burg, but quickly disappeared into the dusty haze, though I was cruising at ~80 mph. Guess they don't all ride at parade speed.

I eventually made Spokane, at rush hour, successfully navigating the Interstate system. The final 60 miles of mountain road from Kingston, ID to T. Falls were two-laned, twisty and I met one car.

So it wasn't a trip on the scale of those previously posted, but it sure reminded me of rain forests, miles of dry old farm land and electrons. And I was glad to pull up in front of the garage in the protected valleys of NW Montana and I'm ready to head out again

jh

That is what it is all about, ins't it!

Amazing photos of Americana! You won't see this in the interstates!

Since my story was a bit long and I broke it up I didn't past it in here.

A Trip To Europe

Short story and not terribly interesting but since it starts with a Harley breaking down and ends with my first road trip on a TBA I figured you might get a giggle.

Me and a bud were all set to head down to the Smokey Mountains and on over to western Kentucky and back up around to home in Vermont. My bud was riding down to my place from his home in Ottawa when I got a call from him telling me his Dyna was broken down at crossing at Cornwall. Hopped in my truck with the ramps and drove the three hours to get him figuring we could fix it and if I let him take it back home then the trip would be off.

Now my bud will never be mistaken for a mechanic and he has no desire to learn. He, god knows why, trusts the dealer and wanted to have the local dealer take a look against my objections. Called the dealer on Saturday morning and they said if we could get it there soon they might be abnle to take a look today and if not then tomorrow. Tomorrow? You're open on Sunday? Yep.

Alright then, down to the dealer we go figuring they'll fix it and my bud will have more peace of mind then if I fixed it. No call by end of day Sunday so we call first thing Monday morning to find out they are closed on Mondays!!! AARRGGGGHHHHHH!!!

Call first thing Tuesday to hear "we're trying to get you on the schedule today! Again, AAAARRRRGGGGGHHHHHH!!!!

This time, over my buds objections we jump in the truck and go down and get the bike. Two hours later we figure out that his vacuum operated petcock has failed. I pull the Pingle petcock of my Softail Custom, put it on his bike and she's running like new!.

Uhhmmmmmm, but mine is now inoperable. There's really only one option other then losing yet another day or maybe two to order a new petcock. "Oh Honey, can I use your bike?"

Strapped the tent and sleeping bag on my wife's TBA and off we go. The original plan is now long gone and my bud still doesn't trust my fix so we headed east to hit the Kancamangus and on into Maine as he has never been to either Maine or NH. Spent the night near Old Orchard and was able to talk him into going on for another day as he is slowly gaining confidence in his bike. From Old Orchard we headed down I95 for a bit then got off to hit 119 to 202 to 2 across northern Mass. I wasn't expecting much from this route but I was very pleasantly surprised. The entire route was downright beautiful. The roads were great and the rdie through the Berkshires was fantastic. Had we not had our run of bad luck I might have never ridden these roads. Ended up that night in Coxsakie(sp) NY and the following day headed down to Kingston on 9 and then to Port Jervais on a route which escapes me at the moment. Another very nice ride on which we hit our only rain of the trip. Our destination that night was at some friends in Highland Lakes NJ. These are friends met on a forum very simliar to this one with whom we've managed to hook up with that last four summers. The next day I had to be home to help my wife with something and since I rode off on her birthday on her bike I felt obligated. haha The ride home was hightailing all the way on the I-287 and I87. Must have seen a dozen cops on I-87. I've been pulled over the last two runs up that stretch so had my bud lead this time. Finally made it!

So anyway, This was my first extended ride on the TBA. Except for both rear turn signals loosening up and the rear bolt on the rear rack disappearing I was impressed. It did take me a while to get used to the lack of torque as compared to my Harley. You don't roll through town in third gear on the TBA like on the HD but if you're in the right gear it's great. No problems running 85-90 on the interstate and it got all the looks everywhere we stopped.

I did have some issues with it seeming like the chain was skipping at takeoff in 1st gear which I attribute to the cush drive? Does this make sense. At times I could smooth it out by feathering the clutch a bit but at other times it seemed unavoidable.

All in all I liked the bike and wouldn't hesitate to tweak it a bit to fit me better and take off to watch the sunset in the pacific.

So there you have it. Broken down Harleys and a Triumph that saves the day. I guess the story wasn't so short after all.

BTW.

Heading out tomorrow to take my wife on her first road trip. Heading up to the Rangley area of Maine. I've already resigned myself to the fact that my rat bike Harley will be ignored as long as the TBA is in the lot.

:-)

Years ago when we still fead our motorcycles hay, a young lad, they are always young lads,told me he wanted to be a biker. First I told him to buy a leather and stay on the sidewalk its safer, but he insisted. So I told him first off he would need a bike and a Huffy from K-mart didnt count. Next a nice tatoo goes along way in impressing people that your are a bad a$$ biker, but warn him agaisnt tats with alot of flowery images in them, more towards the kind you get from Bubba who has a needle, bottle of ink and no artistic talent what so ever. Next he should get his ear pierced. A friend with either a .22 cal pistol or a 10 penny nail and a crowbar would work just fine. Lay em out cold with the crowbar after that everything else is easy. If the hole turns out to large, bush it down with some hamburger. This was just the beginning of turning this young lad into a real life biker. But since the story is long, I'll have to write this in chapters. Tune in next week.

This story begins here, but it didn’t start here.


The quiet and chilly September air in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan is suddenly and rudely broken by the thunderous crack of a Triumph America stirring to life. A little twist of the throttle and the engine growls, like a big cat announcing its presence to the world.



We head out, slowly making our way toward the on ramp for the Mackinaw Bridge. The towering spires and supports make the distance of five miles seem shorter than it really is. Half the bridge is under construction and we are forced to endure the unstable feeling generated by the waffled steel deck. I told my buddy as the bikes were warming up, “Don’t let the sensation un-nerve you, just ride through it”, and that we did.

As we hit the four lane I-75 highway south bound on our trek toward New York, it was clear that this very rural and isolated setting had no hard and fast rules related to the posted 70 MPH speed limit. Clearly, to the sojourners of this stretch of highway, it was more like a “guideline” than a hard set of rules!

The highway was well surfaced and had clear and clean views on both sides of the roadway that permitted stretching the bikes ability to “breath” a little. Given we were behind on our schedule, we decided to take the option and ride in close company with another traveler and we ended up doing a sustained 90+ MPH for ten miles until our lead car left our course. The sun was warm, the air was cool, and the sensation of speed in the early morning was a real treat before morning coffee!



The leaves were beginning their annual change from green to a variety of shades of reds and gold’s, but still mostly green in this area. It made for a wonderful panorama as we winded our way southward toward our first stop for gas and coffee 80 miles later. Man, what a great weekend for a rally! Only downside? The trip was going to be 1035 miles one way and we had a limited time restraint that mandated no lollygagging and we were already behind schedule due to a late start. But that so they say, is water under the bridge!

Michigan rolls by with sunshine and warm temperatures the further south we get. We make the turn to the east and head for the Canadian border. Again, we find that the Canadians, like their Michigonian counterparts look at the 100 KPH Speed limit as something of a tourist attraction rather than an absolute, and 85 MPH is the norm rather than the exception. We fall willingly into line and make up for lost time.

As the sun crest the horizon behind us, the coolness of the night to come, rapidly swallows up the warmth of the day with no mercy toward us. Nearing 9:00 PM we cross the boarder into Buffalo New York and decide we should break to eat and maybe forgo trying to find the rally site another 80+ miles down the pike yet.

We contact Biker and let him know where we are and see if he can’t get us pointed in the right direction but to no avail. We grab some local “yutes” who are more than happy to point us toward a shelter for the night. With directions in hand we make our way to what we had hoped would be an early night. We were wrong.

I don’t know what it was about Buffalo, maybe it was the absence of the sun for base orientation, but nothing made sense in this fine town and the way the roads twisted about only served to further disorient us. Fact was…we were lost! How? Who knows, but what started out as a simple task, dumped us right in the heart of…well lets just say, it was an area that did not seem a place for one to be lost in? Now I must admit, when one is lost, no place seems to be the appropriate place to be in that particular state of being… Lost that is.

As we are making our way through the “lost” part of this fair city, I noticed a car behind us, one with a light bar…one that I had dreaded on seeing all day. But now? Oh joy of joys it is my friends the Po-lice! I began to wave my hands wildly in the air in the universal sign of “Yea, I am nuts you better check me out” gesture. Well guess what? It worked! Not only did the fine officers offer to give us directions, when I told them of my vocation back in the real world? They had pity upon our poor lost selves and gave us a motor escort to what we hoped would be our dwelling for the night! We said our fare-thee-wells and off they went to protect and to serve! And me toward the door of the hotel!

Happy to be at a place where we could warm ourselves and get some supper in us. It is now 10:00 PM and we are past hungry...lost does that to you. I walked into the establishment whose rates were to reflect that the walls were obviously papered with gold leaf. Would seem that since the Buffalo Bills were in town, obscene rates for the evening were only fair for the day and “Normal”! I asked the lady at the desk? Do I look like a guy who spends that much on a hotel room? Amazing what 12 hours on a motorcycle in the sun and the wind can do for ones appearance!

“Don’t I get a “Just because I am pretty discount?”, She replied emphatically; “No”. “Well”, I responded “How about a “just because I am ugly discount?”. Seems this lass is of higher class than I, as my attempts at humor were lost to my own sense of knowing a funny line. “I don’t make the prices!”, she quipped.

Just then my phone rang and it was none other than the KingOfFleece! He had called because Biker had called and let him know we were in his hometown and Jim called to see if he could help. Not only did he help, but he finished up family business and came and got us plugged into a decent home for the night at a price that was within reason. We all then jumped in his truck and sat at a local Chili’s for chips and conversation. The end to a long day, but what a happy note to end it on!

Morning after a long day still comes way too early for any sense of really “catching up”. We cleaned up, re-arranged things and made ready for our rendezvous with the lads n lasses who hail from this fair part of the world. The KingOfFleece comes and meets us at the hotel and takes us for a short putt to kill some time until the scheduled arrival of our mates from the East. We head over to “Triumph Of Buffalo” and shortly there after the crew arrives. What a trip to see all these bikes roll in. Sorry, I just can’t get enough of the sound of multiple PT’s thundering in unison!

For me this is the first time I get to meet all but one of the folks here. Wojo and I had the pleasure of meeting last summer as we spent a couple of days riding around Lake Superior, with Mert, Airguy and Loco. What a real treat to see a familiar face and friend again! Other faces I recognize straight away from photo’s on the site. No one ever really looks as you picture them, which may or may not be a good thing! For me, I get to talk with folks on the phone so I automatically have opportunity to form pictures in my mind of what they “look like” based upon their voice or writing style. Now take Leonics for example. In my mind I see a clean cut, tie wearing, thee piece suit kind of guy. In real life? Well, Dave sports a ponytail and looks a bit like a…well a biker! Go figure?!?



We spend the morning getting to know folks and eating and drinking goodies provided for us and just having a good time. Some take advantage of the offer to test ride bikes and scooters. Just a laid back easy going time.

We mount up and make our way back to Danville to the camp ground and the nights activates, which I am told were a bit more reserved than the night before! But I am getting ahead of myself.

This part of New York is very hilly and would seem to me to be at the base of a mountain range from it’s appearance. Not having a detailed geographical understanding of the region, it is simply, my guess. Gorgeous none the less and a wonderful place for a putt on the shortest riding day of my trip!

Done in, from three active days of riding, we decide we are going to crash early so we can get an early out on the road as this time we have a deadline to make on the return that will be un-yielding.

I head out to the campground and visit some more with the guys and check out their bikes and gadgets. Chatting with all them, man what a hoot. As has been my observation across this country and as good fortune would have it, Europe as well, I see more of what I have seen in each of my travels to BA.com Rallies. It’s the people. Cool bikes, cool people. I can’t say enough of what a joy it is to me to meet the folks from this site. I spent relatively very few hours visiting compared to the time it took to get here, but it was so well worth the effort.

I learn a great deal about great people and enjoy some great rides and adventures with the same. Now, they are no longer “cyber personas” but there are now faces and depth of personalities that are often missed in the on-line world we enjoy so much. Too often those who come off not so well in the world of cyberspace, but in the face-to-face real world? They are something all together different.



The remainder of the trip for me was every bit as great as the trip down. The colors turned even more brilliant and the only down side, was it was cooler and I was hurting a great deal more because we were more diligent pressing on, only stopping to fuel every 120 miles or so. Still all in all? A great and wonderful ride that was capped with a phone call when I was 15 miles from home. I got the call that I was now the Grandpa to a little boy named Gabriel! So that is the end to one tale, and the beginning of another.

Ride Safe!

eddy

jeff kyle here i found the story of me and the pizza star. Thanks KOOL!!!

to be held in that space

for a long time
we sat on the wall
the sun warming
my jacket for later

ocean water whooshing
beach rocks catching wet light
I finally breathed
full breaths

earlier, while riding twisty sun patched roads
I watched his back-
his upper body a perfect frame
arms outstretched & open
hands so easy on the bars

I wondered
what would it be like?-
to be held in that space
where wind flows over the fairing
to curl & circle
& whisper into his chest.

10/5/08

_____________________________________________________

oh I remember now-

thrum & the rumble
kiss of a breeze
push of a wind
pull of the throttle
clunk of the shifter
engagement of gears
I am moving!
and free
chattering children grinning and jumping
tall trees at attention
I motor my way
low waves with brethren
knowing smiles exchanged
the catch as I downshift
or lean through a turn
mind focused and open
alert to this day
hug and creak of warm leather
pop-pop of exhaust
flutterfaded bandana
tied to the bar.

4/18/09

So Karen and I took this week off with the intent of riding down the Wa, Or coast then heading east to Crater Lake then back north...anyway...things changed.

Yesterday we decided to take a day trip to Mt St Helens. Weather was awesome with the forecast calling for showers later in the eve.
**disclaimer**
Here in the Pacific NW showers are not rain and rain is not a downpour.

The ride down was awesome. I absolutely love riding with Karen. We started out with a caffeine boost at the local Starbucks then took a favorite road out of town. We headed south on Issaquah Hobart Road. A great twisty little road with little traffic that I love to take as a “warm up” to a ride. From there we headed south on some slab to make up some time so we could do more riding on roads we haven’t been on. 18 south to 167 to 512 off at Meridian and onto some more nice back roads. Also so we could make it to Copper Creek Inn for lunch. Im telling you right now…if you ever have a chance you have to stop here. Their Wild Blueberry pie alamode is worth the ride here.

Copper Creek Inn (this was taken on a previous ride). Notice the sun shining on the Triumph and that lonely Harley hiding in the shadows.


Along SR706 on teh way to Copper Creek Inn theres a yard with a bunch of really cool metal art work. This is only one of many many sculptures.


From there we followed the Google Maps directions I loaded into my GPS down by Riffe Lake and onto a dead end logging road. Nice spot but we were stopped dead in our tracks…well….not dead but by a nice locked gate a very stern warning on a sign.
Karen did suffer a minor injury when she grabbed hold of the old wooden railing at the bridge…LOL. The mouse lion story came to mind.

Riffe Lake at NFD 27Rd


Signs of denial


Karens injury. Im happy to report she is doing fine and is whining a lot less today. `


No big deal…were not on a schedule and the roads (except for this logging road) are nice and very enjoyable. Back to the paved roads we went and around Riffe Lake onto 12 then Jackson Hwy to Spirit Lake Hwy on to Johnston Ridge. We made a few stops for picture opportunities and how amazing it was to see the difference in the dome that the mountain has been growing.

Hoffstadt Creek Bridge

The info:


Elk Creek viewpoint where we took gratuitous Triumph shots and answered many questions about the bikes to folks who were awe struck at the sheer beauty and style of our rides
Please disregard the glare off the back of my head.



This is one of my favorite things. You can see the logs that are now jutting out of the lahar flow that has been worn down by the river flow.


St Helens 2009

St Helens 2006


So…we finally got there about 5:00 and started heading back about 5:30. We saw some clouds but nothing too bad. Showers…no big deal. HA! Showers my @ss! It rained, hard and consistently from about 6 to 10 when we finally got home.
We made a few stops to warm up and gas up on the way not to mention the numerous stops we were forced to make cause of that fun little issue with these bikes not really liking heavy rain.
Needless to say we didn’t expect that but as any good NW resident will tell you “you should always be prepared” and I have to say…we really were not. Enough of my whining!

All in all it was a great trip and a story to share with all of you about a day spent riding with my #1.

Total round trip mileage was 397 miles
Heres a link to our route: Our route

Nice work and great pics! Thanks for sharing.

Thank you! We had fun, even though it ****** down rain the whole way home!

Hopefully later today we start our trip up to Vancouver Island. Still not 100% sure of the route but well be posting pics of that ride early next week when we get back.

Last year I tried to start a 'tradition' with my middle brother by taking time to do a scenic ride and we had a successful trip across the Blue Ridge parkway and along US 421 (aka The Snake). Last Year's Excellent trip

So, to maintain the tradition we arranged to meet in Blacksburg, Va for a weekend ride around the New River Valley with the New river Gorge bridge being our main objective.

The ride up for me was just a lot of slab, suffering through Chattanooga and Knoxville but enjoying the rolling valleys of east Tennessee and southwest Virginia. Even though the hot humid skies threatened from time to time the trip to Blacksburg was rain free. I got in 30 minutes before my brother Tim arrived from his home in not-too-distant Springfield (near DC).



After a few moments of chewing the fat and consuming a quick snack we agreed there was still time to get an hour or so in before supper. We set off at a fair clip along US 460 to Newport, on through Pearisburg where we looped back south along VA 100 for some thrilling rolling hills and twisties all the way to Dublin and Hwy 11. We turned east and focused on dinner, ride plans and getting a good night's sleep.



Our ride plan: US 460 to VA 42 (pretty fantastic) to New Castle. Take VA 311 to US60 (and a very windy bit of I-64) and White Sulfur Springs. Try for a photo op at the Greenbrier (too posh had to give it a miss) then run US 60 to US19 and hook west to the New River Gorge bridge.



US 60 must be the equivalent of US 129 at Deal's Gap without the notoriety (again, fantastic ride). After oogling the bridge, a quick lunch and then time for the 'twist and shout' down US 19 to WV 3 on to WV12 and taking the narrow WV122 south along the New Rive r Valley to US 219, re-entering Virginia and joining US 460 back to the rooms.



One way is Virginia, the other view is West Virginia from high atop one of the many ridges we crossed:




We found this covered bridge from 1916 along a side road on VA 42:




and, of course, the magnificent NRG bridge:





and even if we did pass up the Greenbrier we still managed to find Oakhurst hidden away in the WV woods:



The country side was equally gorgeous all day, the threatening clouds evaporated and the blustery wind abated and a great ride was had by all.



Total run mileage from Alabama: 1265. Priceless...

Thanks Ed for a refreshing post. Appreciated the pictures. I've passed through Beckley many times taking I79 to 19 to I77 and often wondered what the surrounding countryside would be like to ride on a bike. Made my day. Another area to visit on the wish list.

i really enjoy lookin at all these pics and reading your stories ,alot of these places are now on my 'TODO' list . heres a few vids a mate of mine made while we where in Nelson a couple of weeks ago .
http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=kruisn+kootenays&search_type=&aq=f

Story wise we rode lots ,i drunk quite a few local brews ,met up with Freedom ,Mountainman and his mate Darryl,rode some more ,then drank a few more ales, and well you get the picture.

That was a good weekend Gordie, and a pleasure to meet you and Lorraine. Loved the vids... could identify every section of road. See you next time you are in the Koots.

Here's a brief take on Highway 41A through the Cumberland Plateau region of Tennessee:

Due to the nature of the current commercial driving regulations our touring trucks are never able to stay with the buses so our first off day ends up being the off-load day. My act doesn't work consistently enough to keep the container loaded so we end up off loading at Sound Check, one of Nashville's premier storage/cartage/rehearsal facilities. Located on the banks of the Cumberland river it is unexceptional in appearance located in a gritty warehouse district just across the river from downtown.





For me it's a 168 mile commute north to work and some days I get lucky and can ride the America. I'm double lucky that the interstate route is actually scenic cutting through the Nickajack gap, crossing the Tenneessee river, passing over Monteagle, running through the rural rolling hills past the Bonnaroo site and not sucking until you get to the urban sprawl that joins Murphreesboro to greater Nashville. Then it's just grit and fumes and careless cagers.

Yesterday I chose to take Hwy 41A south on my way back home, I didn't get many pictures but here's the gist of it: It's nice trip through Americana and Tennessee horse country.



Not overly hilly (and that's a shame) but nice enough roads loaded with gentle sweepers and lovely views. Once you get to Cowan, TN that all changes and it's a nice twisty charge up Monteagle to Sewanee followed by a quick right onto TN 56 a very secondary road that twists it's way down the eastern side of the mountain. You have to be careful due to the landslides having changed the roadbed to off-camber turns but it's very secluded and the traffic is light. TN 56 becomes AL 117 at the state line and it's a quick ride across the Tennessee river to Sand Mountain where the climb is very steep and lots of fun.



I'll admit to taking I-24 east to just outside Smyrna before I hopped onto Hwy41A, the thought of an hour stop-and-go traffic to get out of Nashville just isn't appealing. Tennessee attempted to build a huge bypass around town but it looks like some landowners were successful in blocking the northern loop so it hasn't achieved Interstate designation, yet. Currently it's labeled TN 840. It's lovely, smooth wide and mostly deserted.



Some eccentric guy has built what looks like a medieval castle in the woods but I think you'd have to intrude to get a good look. Anyway, that's only a mile or two before the jumping off point to access the two lane and what was a nice but not too challenging commute back home.



Not to bad a ride for this long distance commuter. Next time I'll run Hwy 41 and see what difference there is between the north and south sides of I-24.

I spent a few days bopping around the northeast with old friends. We went down through the finger lake wine country into Pennsyslvania. We had a great time on back roads through the mountains and valleys then stayed overnight in Gettysburg. I can particularly recommend routes 14 and 414 in NY state, 655/522 and the Hyner View/Hyner Run area in PA. I also enjoyed route 15 north through the state and US 30 the Lincoln Highway across the bottom but those wouldn't be to everyone's taste since they're busy. Few pics below. The first two are from Hyner View State Park looking out over the Susquehanna Valley. The last one is Gettysburg.




We had good weather all the way but returned home to more of this infernal RAIN!

what is it about motorcycles? it’s the solitude
it’s the being with others
it’s the power of the motor moving me it’s the
sexy moto guzzi guy and the happy old couple on the piaggio scooter
it’s the zoom
it’s my hand on the clutch waiting for the light to change while we ponder which way
it’s the peace in my head it’s the
focus while carving that curve it’s the red tractor I caught in the corner of my eye
it’s the zoom
it’s the everything in front of me it’s the
behind me is gone.

8.16.09

Nice bit of prose there Paula... nice bit of prose.