Musings on music, culture, hopes of riding soon...

In the wee hours of Tuesday, February 26, I had the television on so low it was barely audible. I do that sometimes to feed my news-junkie habit. As I busy myself doing other things, I can hear the faint discussions transpiring from the TV. Occasional I turn to glance at it or pause to take in a snippet of news. Rarely is there much else on at three in the morning; in fact, some news outlets, like ABC World News Now, repeat the same news ad nauseam throughout the night.

Tuesday’s post midnight news was dominated by the Clinton vs. Obama debate. I had heard every political pundit and analyst debate who the winner was and had reached a saturation point that made me listen with only half an ear. Then came some huge news—and I’m not talking about the umpteenth snowstorm that was transpiring in Chicago outside my window. In minutes, an announcer said, the New York Philharmonic Orchestra would be performing “Live” from Pyongyan, North Korea. My ears tuned in.
For more than a year, plans were being laid for this concert. It would be the first and largest cultural exchange with North Korea. The announcer called the event historic.” I longed for the music to start and when it did, magic happened. I sat mesmerized, forgetting about the snowstorm, trying to forget about the fact that motorcyclists were out riding on Saturday and now, on Tuesday, we would be digging out from an estimated 5-8 inches of snow.

Lorin Maazel, the conductor, and the orchestra fascinated the audience. The orchestra began by playing the anthems of North Korea and the USA. The orchestra played Gershwin, Dvorak and Wagner. I especially loved Dovorak’s Symphony #9 in A Minor, better known as the New World Symphony. I don’t think I’ve heard it performed better. Gershwin’s “An American In Paris” seemed to have special significance and I couldn’t help but think of the Americans in North Korea. Panning the audience showed the raw emotions evoked by the music. Some faces seemed lost in the music as people listened with their eyes closed, others moved their heads ever so slightly; one person, a woman, dabbed her eyes.

Thunderous applause followed each piece. An effusive audience showed their appreciation with stand ovations, the last one lasted five minutes! The concert ended with the playing of Arirang, a much-loved folk song evidently adored by both North and South Korea. The audience was visibly moved throughout the concert but the finale brought the house down, so to speak. The concert was followed by a discussion with the audience. Watching Maazel interact across cultural lines added true class to the evening. Such cross-cultural exchanges are demystifying, they facilitate a much-needed understanding among humans outside of all the political caterwauling.

North Korea’s best cellist said he yearns to travel and perform abroad and hopes that the successful visit by the New York Philharmonic Orchestra’s created such opportunities. Music really is a universal language--you could see it on the faces in the audience. I could feel the connection thousands of miles away.

While this blog entry nothing to do with motorcycling, it has a lot to do with traveling to distance lands, which is what appeals to me most about motorcycling. For many reasons, not the least of which is political propaganda (on all sides), individuals and groups must be bridge builders and bridge crossers. As I continue to research places to ‘cycle this riding season, I shall remain mindful of the historic cultural exchange between North Korea and New York Philharmonic Orchestra.

Now, if only the riding season were in sight!

California beckons! And, where or where can I get my moto clothes cleaned?!

Recently, a work-related assignment sent me to CA, specifically the Bay area. It was four degrees Fahrenheit when I left Chicago and, of course, the wind chill made it feel like minus 11 degrees F, according to the weather report. By the time I reached Menlo Park, CA where I stayed for part of the trip, a blue sky and the sound of motorcycles at every turn made me forget my roots and wonder what it would be like to live in this part of CA. Riding year 'round, having mild winters, ridding myself of the need for a car...I can live with that--happily. Then I remembered the earthquakes ...

In Palo Alto, on Stanford University's campus, bicycles are ubiquitous! A tour guide said there are 14,000 students enrolled there and 12,000 registered bicycles . I don't know if this includes faculty and staff who ride to work, but the place reminded me of images of China's congested two-wheel traffic. Riders zipped around campus, which appears devoid of overt bicycle lanes . How they manage to avoid crashing into each other is beyond me. But bicyclists seem to know who has the right of way and how to avoid cell-phone talking strollers immersed in conversations so important that they are exempt from following any rules of the road, and bicyclists seem also adept at avoiding tourists, who stop wherever the mood strikes to read the campus map.

I didn't miss the special parking set aside for motorcyclists either. Very thoughtful.

Next stop: University of California at Berkeley, the massive flagship school in the mammoth UC system. Talk about set aside motorcycle parking! It's everywhere! I saw a young guy riding a silver '02 SV650. I couldn't restrain myself from striking up a conversation with him and given that I am old enough to be his mother I knew he'd know that I wasn't trying to pick him up. I asked him how he likes the SV. He loves it! I've yet to meet an owner who doesn't.

He told me that he pays a nominal fee to park on campus but that all street parking is free for motorcyclists. He's able to literally ride to his classroom building. He also introduced me to many of the bike's upgrades, none of which he added, by the way. He got a "great" deal because the previous owner did all the work. He had Givi luggage and rack, Corbin seat, and a "slip-on" exhaust system, which gave his bike a nice, deep throaty sound--definitely not loud. Still, his neighbors complain about it. Their problem, he said, is that they simply don't like motorcycles. They've complained but his landlord, who lives on the premises has sided with him and also contends that the bike's exhaust level is a non-issue. Frankly, I'd add that "slip-on" in heart beat. It wasn't loud at all! It brought to mind a Ducati I once heard...

While walking the streets of Berkeley, motorcycles were omnipresent. Parked along each street, sometimes lined up four and five cars deep. I saw several SVs and if I didn't fear an arrest and didn't respect other people's property, and no one was around to catch me, I swear, I would have tossed a leg over one of them and just had my own little personal thrill for a minute or two.
San Francisco, near Fisherman's Wharf, was a haven for motorcyclists. By then, I'd become less obvious in my glee at seeing and hearing a bike go by. I focused on the riders. Every one I saw wore a helmet--including the passengers. I did notice that many wore the beanie helmets, which I surmise is an attempt to circumvent the mandatory helmet law 'cause those helmets sure didn't look very protective.

Beautiful weather the entire week made me wish I'd made arrangements and had the time to rent a bike while there. I must return in March and if time and funds permit, I think I'll look into that...Upon my return to Chicago, and despite the fact that I was met with single digit temperatures and a wind so cutting that it could easily rip the skin off your face in only a few minutes of exposure, I felt inspired to get my moto jackets and pants ready for the riding season. I diligently separated the hand washables from the dry clean only. The first cleaners hesitated to say he could clean the garments. Something about the leather and textile mix? Within days, I learned that they could not clean the garments. Supposedly, the leather parts could be cleaned but there was concern about the textile.

Recommendation: "Clean it yourself." Later, I stopped into another cleaners and explained my situation. "Oh, yes, we can clean that." But upon examining the two jackets and one pair pants, a husband and wife team said they would check with their cleaners (the cleaners has a cleaners?--outsourcing, I guess). Well, long story short, they won't or can't do it either. I have about six or seven jackets and several pairs of pants. These three items are the exception with regards to cleaning. Every other garment can be hand washed in cold water. And, I typically avoid purchasing clothes that need professional cleaning. I bought these garments because they are cute--and protective. See, it's easy to get the protective part, but as a female, it's challenging to get the cute part. It's difficult to acquire garments that fit your shoulders and taper a bit in the waist. Contrary to what some motorcycle cloths makers think, female riders need more than a garment made for a male but in a smaller size. It's about the cut and the style and...oh, don't get me started.

I'm not a clothes horse; however, I've become a fashion maven about motorcycle wear. I don't ride comfortably when the jacket I'm donning doesn't fit well and reminds me of being a child trying on her father's coat. I've made too many purchases that initially seem suitable, only to find out later that they don't ride well. One doesn't wear such garments, they sort of just hang on you. So, now I have these two jackets that ride well that I absolutely fancy but can't get professionally cleaned!

Fortunately, I have other jackets and pants that can be handwashed. But I tell you, they are not as much fun. They are functional, yes, but not necessarily fun. I desire and deserve both. For example, I love my FirstGear Kilimanjaro jacket--it's definitely my favorite.

For long trips, I never leave home without it. There are those days, however, when the FirstGear is in the laundry and it's a beautiful day out, where I know I don't need to worry about rain protection or plummeting temps and I want something a bit more stylish.

I bought a silver TourMaster Transition jacket, which I wore around the store for a long time, debating its practicality. I bought silver to match my helmet and the trellis on my bike. Bad idea! The jacket is a dirt magnet! I can stretch three, maybe four outings out of it before desperately needing to toss it in the laundry--that's way too much work. Thus, it hardly gets worn.

The quest for an intrepid cleaners to tackle my jackets and pants continues. But just in case the search fails, the back up gear is clean and raring to go.

It is 22 degrees F this morning. Still, if I take a really deep breath, after the nose hairs thaw a bit, I can smell spring in the air. I really can...

Motorcycle Bloggers International Riders Choice Awards

(Click picture on the right to see the weather-proof scooterist)

Motorcycle Bloggers International (MBI), a group of dedicated motorcyclists for whom “riding and writing is what we do,” is at it again! It’s time to nominate the best and worst in all things motorcycle related in 2007. What were the best products introduced—and the worst? Who were the extraordinary achievers in motorcycling? Who contributed great things to the motorcycling world in safety, touring, and adventure riding, to mention a few? Let’s not forget the fallen stars, those who demonstrated “a serious lapse in judgment in 2007.” Nominations continue until February 10th (sorry for the short notice).

Voting begins February 15 and runs through March 16, 2008.

Winners will be announced on March 19, 2008.

I’ve nominated Carla King for her amazing contributions in solo motorcycle touring (national and international), her extraordinary “misadventures “ and her wonderful motorcycle blogs and book authorship that keep readers up-to-date on her whereabouts and newsworthy motorcycle information. She's recently partnered with a frequent visitor here, the multi-talented, D. Brent Miller of Sojourner Chronicles, and now offers a Miss Adventuring Podcast series--very cool! I can't hardly wait to dig in there!

***

Here's what it looks like here in Chi-town:

Sleepless in Seattle...

I just returned from a business trip to Seattle, WA, my second trip there in recent months. This time I didn't rent a car, which encouraged me to walk and rely on public transportation. One afternoon, I spent what felt like one week using Seattle's Metro Transit after being given incorrect information by two bus drivers and let off by another one more than a mile from my destination. Another bus driver became a little agitated when I asked her where I should exit to get to Pacific Place, a popular downtown spot. She said, "I'm only familiar with my route--I don't know the best stop." Thus, I became lost at least once. But it really is the best way to see a city.

I overheard a number of people talk about how "cold" it was in Seattle. The temps stayed in the mid-forties the nearly four days I spent there. At the time in Chicago the temps were in the low double digits, like 10 degrees. One day I checked in on Chicago and it was 8 degrees with a wind chill that felt like minus 11 degrees! Comparatively speaking, Seattle was downright balmy. True to its reputation, the skies were mostly gray and cloudy with billowing cloud formation with the sun trying its best to peek through. It made for dramatic sunrises and sunsets that were nothing short of glorious.

While there I noticed that two wheel travel is the mode of preferred transportation, particularly around the University of Washington. Seattle seemed way ahead of other cities in "living green." Everywhere I looked multiple waste containers clearly marked what could be deposited inside. People diligently and patiently disposed of their waste according to the posted rules. Similar multiple receptacles can be spotted here in Chicago but not to the same magnitude IMHO--but we are a serious bicycling town too. Although I didn't make any resolutions to start this new year, I vowed to live far more consciously greener. I've always done some environmentally friendly things but like many people, I need to do more.

Motorcycling has led me to have a different relationship with my car. Living in a place where I could ride year 'round would help me eliminate the need to own one altogether. I haven't driven it in months. Seven months has been my longest stretch of not driving. I went the whole summer without touching it and last winter I rarely drove it either. And, I like driving because I drive stick shifts only. I can almost convince myself driving a stick shift is similar to riding a motorcycle--almost. In the city, I find that I don't need a car. It's suburban living that demands a car to go just about anywhere. Ultimately, I'd like to do without owning a car altogether. I can rent if I really need one. Or, join one of those share a car deals, where you pay a fee, requisition a car online, and you're directed to a nearby pick up spot. Problem is, manual transmission are virtually impossible to rent these days. I've been told that not enough people drive them to motivate a rental service to carry such cost efficient, less complicated vehicles.

My last trip to Seattle had me slapping the floor of the rental car feeling for the clutch and waving my right hand between the front seats searching for the stick. It took me half a day to keep my hands on the steering wheel and to stop driving with two feet--it was distracting. After getting the hang of it, I realized how completely sleep inducing it is to drive an automatic! It bored me silly, left me wondering if mind numbing tedium is part of the reason folks drive while reading newspapers, applying make up, eating Big Macs, and talking on cell phones. They've got way too many limbs free!

To see so many people in Seattle on two wheels, well, it was refreshing. I'm sure part of that stems from being in a college town. Still, Seattle seems a more environmentally friendly place judging from all the organic, green- and environmentally- friendly signs and establishments broadcasting their organic nature and eco-friendliness. Even my hotel was 100% smoke free. I had to sign a statement saying I agreed not to light up in my room or I would be charged an outrageous price for the cleaning and fumigating the place after my departure. I liked that.

When I travel, I always ask myself if I can live in that place. I feel I can now answer that question with a resounding "Sort of." The limo driver told me that Seattle is devoid of the weather extremes we have in Chicago. That's a good thing. Seattle also doesn't get much snow. Hmmm...I like snow. For me, winters would be difficult there because one hardly sees a blue sky for very long. Both trips, albeit they were less than a week each, transpired under cloudy gray skies. On the first trip, it rained each day, steady sometimes brief and light drizzles that didn't seem to phase the two-wheelers at all.

Yet, those cloudy skies produce some amazing sunrises and sunsets that look beautiful in a distance and over mountaintops. Great food is expected in Seattle. Seafood--they love it and claim the best fish chowder around. I never made it to the signature chowder place but I take their word for it. I ran into many eateries that rival the food dished up in Chicago--and we know food here is serious business. If you don't drink coffee--I do not--it might not impress you that Seattle is home of the original Starbucks. Coffee shops are ubiquitous. Tully's is another coffee shop that seems to give Starbucks a run for its money--not sure which came first. Woodland Zoo is just amazing! Seattle also has a downtown waterfront along Elliott Bay and, of course, there's Puget Sound. Both waters could lessen my certain pain at missing Lake Michigan. It's being able to ride nearly year 'round that appeals to me most...yes, I could live in Seattle. Purchase some winter riding clothes--I'd be set. Well...sort of.

The "sorta" part results from not having any extended kin there. The older I get the more I want to be near these people I spent the greater part of my life trying to escape. I want to be close enough to get to them when I want to or when they need me yet far enough away that I feel free to be me and feel unfettered by their proximity. In addition, I love residing in a place where I can anticipate the boundaries of a space, where I can visualize what's around a corner. In my mind's eye I can see just about any place in Chicago just by looking at an address. Such familiarity creates comfort. When I rented the car for my first trip to Seattle every street was new, every curve on the Interstate was novel, none of which I minded but it created a sense of discombobulation, a feeling of general uncertainty. I was often caught in lanes that went where I didn't want to go and I had to work my way quickly to another lane. Funny thing is, this excites me and adds to any adventure on a motorcycle. In a car, I felt stressed and it could have been the result of driving the automatic more than anything else.

In Chicago, long before a rode dips or dives or merges this or that way, I am prepared, I can anticipate ( and compensate for) every curve on the various interstate routes that intersect Chicago. To me that's something, something that has taken decades to master.

Seattle, I'm sure, is a nice place to reside. For me, it will have to do as a nice place to visit. I'd love to ride my bike out there and head to Vancouver, which is only a few hours away from Seattle. To rub shoulders with MT. Rainier, MT. St. Helens, and Olympic Mountains to mention a few is a huge draw. Traveling allows movement outside one's comfort zone.

Perhaps the question isn't, "Can I live here?" But rather, "Is this a great place to visit, or what?" Seattle is on my return visit list! Gotta figure out a motorcycle ride there. That limo driver said, August is the best time to come...

Weather report: BALMY!

Major snow melt here this weekend! Unseasonably warm weather propelled many folks outdoors. Yesterday's temp's reached above 60 degrees F! Chicago. January. Sixty-degrees. That's rarer than good thinking from the current political administration--IMHO. Had I kept Queenie a bit longer, this would have been a riding weekend like no other! Sunday was beyond warm! Some shoppers strolled the "Mag Mile" coatless while I sweated bullets in mine.

Blue skies, however, have been in short supply! Typically, the last few days have started with dense fog and tiny patches of blue trying to peek through as the fog dissipates. A blue sky, however, has failed to show its full self in days. Am I the only one looking this gift horse in the mouth? While I thoroughly enjoyed this miracle from Mother Nature, I can't ignore Mother Nature's heavy hand in other places. Look at what is transpiring elsewhere (e.g., parts of California, Nevada, Florida, the Pacific Northwest and in regions abroad). Weather-related problems are running the gamut too--from torrential rains, winds above 70 mph, and massive snowfalls. As Marvin Gayle croons, "What's going on?"

Number of motorcycle spottings this weekend: Two. A couple of lucky ducks in full bike-matching riding gear, sporting Suzuki crotch-rockets. I took their engine revving personally! While I had a camera with me, they were going too fast, it was too dark, and the unmistakable 'cycle sounds sent me into an an envy-induced paralysis. Seriously! I had assumed the pain of withdrawal was over. Nah. It lurks right beneath the skin, ever ready to spring forth (pun intended).

Happy New Year!

To all my regular and occasional readers, to family, friends and the lurkers out there, I'm hoping you had a safe, sane and spectacular time ushering out 2007. I'm wishing you a full body jump into 2008!

Another year has come to a close. I can't help note that the older I get, the faster the year seems to complete its cycle. I have no resolutions to share here but I can't close out the year without remembering a few joyous highlights.

Many highlights come directly from my readers, many of whom have their own motorcycle blogs. Thank you! I've enjoyed reading you and getting to know you in cyberspace. You have kept me challenged and informed. Mucho thanks to D. Brent Miller for the podcast interview he did with me on the Lake Superior Circle tour and for indulging my incessant chatter at the BMW Rally in WI. Our paths shall cross again. I haven't met Crusty, yet, but I feel I know him a bit. Like me, he's a map lover. He's influenced me and I think I've influenced him a little (he's picked up a GPS!! Yay!). I'll never forget that Crusty found a frozen dairy treat named "Sharon" while out on a ride. He kindly bought and consumed some--that act melted my heart a tad! Crusty's business is motorcycles; he has little patience for those who woefully neglect their machines. Queenie has benefited from the sage advice he dispenses on his blog. Vinny, thanks for poking your head in now and again. When you settle in Ann Arbor, MI, run out to get William Murphy's book, Motorcycling Across Michigan, you won't be disappointed. I don't know most of the others I regularly read but stopping by their blogspaces has been interesting diversions as well. Among the many non-motorcycle blogs I enjoy, my favorite is Claire's--always fresh and eclectic and guaranteed to entertain and inform.


Other highlights from 2007 include my day rides and weekend motorcycle jaunts that always produced an afterglow that made other suspicious of what really transpires on my outings. "How can anyone have that much fun alone?" I've been asked that more than once. Few things gave me as much pleasure as rising early and cranking up Queenie. I need "my" time. Time to be alone, time to explore lands near and far, time to reconnect with myself and even time to renew my trust in others. Taking photographs of things I wanted to remember from my trips (but know in my heart I will never forget) awakened an old love of photography that I'm working hard to relearn.

The Lake Superior Circle tour was a hoot and a half! When I'm out there on my own, it puts an exclamation point to living free and being self reliant. Solo riding makes me feel that no matter how scary things may feel at the start of a long journey or how small I may feel in this great big world, I can persevere, I can get through...Each trip reinforces a "trust your intuition" approach. I expect the best (but prepare for the worst). I met lots of neat folks in Canada, Michigan, Minnesota, Wisconsin, and of course, Illinois. All of them are now part of my life experiences, good or bad. Believe it or not, I'm pretty much a loner so getting out there, engaging others, trusting others, and stretching beyond what is comfortable to me, is a huge deal, personally.

The best "highlight" of all is having finished a year of safe riding. In a good way, I still feel like a newbie. I hope to maintain that novice disposition because it keeps me grounded. I do not take riding for granted. I try never to mount my bike without realizing that the ride could end in a way I don't want or it could be my last. That thought alone and the realization that no matter how well I ride, some things are beyond my control. This knowledge never deters me; it reminds me to stay alert, to manage the risk, to control all that is within my control. As Zen masters remind us, we should be forever mindful of every moment, to focus on the task at hand, to treat each minute as a new, never before experienced minute. Good lessons for both riding safely and living free.

While I'm neither glad nor sad the year is over, I am mindful of this: I now probably have fewer years ahead of me than I have behind me, which is all the more reason to live life to the fullest, to do no deliberate harm to others as I travel through space and time. I work with others so I am tested on this daily! I'm human. I will fall short sometimes, but I'm trying and when I spin out of control or push myself over the line, it is riding that helps reign me in and provides that shift in perspective we all need on occasion. Perhaps I make too much of this riding thing, but that's me. I'm telling you, it is because of riding that I've not acted on any of the many homicides I've mentally constructed and planned to the most minor detail. Just kidding. Well...sort of...

I have huge plans for the next riding season. I've come to realize that much of the fun is in the planning. It gets me through the fog and snow and cold of my Midwestern existence. If I embark on half of the trips I plan, I'll consider myself lucky. My big adventure next summer is the Canadian province, Nova Scotia. Don't yet know how I'm going to pull that off, but I'm going to give it my all. If I don't make it there, so be it. At least the planning and research will be fun--and anyone wanting info on such a trip can benefit from what I share here.

Lastly, wishing all who drop by here, the year of their dreams! May 2oo8 be gentle to you and yours! May all the roads you travel in life inspire you to do good and live well. May you and yours always return home safely to share your adventures.

Sharon

A Snowstorm to remember...

Snow plow out early
Originally uploaded by shrosa814

This is what I woke up to yesterday. It was absolutely magnificant! While I realize snowstorms can cause havoc too, I am reminded of how children experience snow. They embrace it with unconditional joy! I watched several news programs interview a slew of children. All of them were thrilled about the snow and used it to the fullest. Most of the adults interviewed, on the other hand, were peeved and full of complaints. Some even acted surprised that the snow dared appear, or that it dumped so much, yada, yada, yada. I'm not a stranger or unsympathetic to those feelings nor the adult concerns that bloat us. But snow, it isn't something we can do much about. Depending on where one lives, the snow is inevitable. It will come. We cannot control when or how much of the fluffy white stuff we'll get when it makes its appearance. I want to be a little child-like and enjoy it.

When I heard we were bracing for a snowstorm starting on Saturday and continuing through Sunday, I went out and tried to document it. The two day results are linked below.

Mother Nature, reminding us who is in charge.

December 15th snowstorm starts...

December 16th snowstorm in full bloom...

Atlanta, GA and welcomed whiplash!

Recently I returned from a work-related trip to Atlanta, GA. I have issues with the South--let me get that out there up-front. Before anyone tells me that's an irrational, prejudicial position to hold, let me say that my issues are highly rational--in my view--and deeply rooted in historical fact and unfortunately reinforced by some past ventures to the South. I admit to falling short here. So, as part of learning to "let go" and not sweating small stuff, I openly looked forward to the trip.

The change from the Midwestern snow and cold was much welcomed! I expected a sweltering Atlanta; instead, it was just pleasantly mild. Walking around the city was light jacket weather the entire time. Four days is not a lot of time but on the day I left, temps were inching up to the 70s.

Work, however, prevented me from any deep city explorations. I was so near the Margaret Mitchell house but because I've never seen the movie Gone with the Wind nor have I read the book (a boycott and ban on both that I launched in high school remains in effect) it didn't make sense to go there. I had hoped for the Martin Luther King National Historical Site, a CNN tour, the Zoo, and the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. If I could, I thought I'd try to get to the Carter Center, and Stone Mountain, GA, which made me curious given its historical symbolism and reference in one of King's most famous speeches. Unfortunately, I managed only the Martin Luther King site and the neighborhood surrounding King's childhood home. Additionally, I did a lot of walking and admired the Downtown and Midtown architecture.

The Interstate system in the Chicago area trains us well. I-75/I-85, were easy to navigate and I imagined riding along these fast roads to quickly ride beyond Atlanta's business district and the shopping malls. I spotted many snaky arteries and backroads that both excited and frightened me. Backroads in the Midwest also pose a challenge but it's more familiar territory even if the same dangers lurk. Backroads in the South, however, are unfamiliar and tainted with a nightmarish history I can't shake easily. While driving, images of Bull Connor, "strange fruit" dangling from trees, and Emmett Till crossed my mind. Yes, I have issues with the South, and I guess a degree in American History fuels my regional psychosis.

Yet, every time I heard a motorcycle, my head would whip around and watch the rider zoom by and I'd think of living in a place like Atlanta where the riding season doesn't end. While out walking, I met up at the same corner at the same time with a guy riding a Kawasaki Ninja. He waited for me to cross the street and I waited for him to make his right hand turn. I wanted to watch him ride off. I wanted ogle until he was a dot in the distance. We both waited for the other. I stood there looking at his bike, which was navy-blue with silver "Ninja" written on the side. He finally tired of me hugging the curb and cautiously maneuvered his turn. He wore head to toe gear. He, his bike, and the modular helmet were color coordinated. I wanted to tell him that I rode too and talk motorcycles with him. I was close enough to reach out and touch him. Feeling I'd appear nutty, I kept quite and stood there staring at his bike, balancing on the curb, ignoring the "Walk" signal.

Riders in the South get to ride their steers throughout most of the year so not needing to store one's bike engenders considerable envy. What a bunch of lucky folks! City life at one's finger tips, boonies not far away, and the really great roads tucked within easy reach to provide unlimited opportunities for amazing day and weekend trips--what more can one ask? On many levels, the South has come a long way. Perhaps, I have too.

Atlanta is a place I'd
revisit and face my southern backroad fears to freely enjoy the roads. I'd try not to drag the entire suitcase of history along with me.









Light, after all, is the best way to travel.

More Atlanta pics here!

("Da-Nile") isn't just a river in Egypt...

Saturday, I had great intentions but where does that get one, right? Chicago was bracing for its first snow storm and I still hadn't taken the 'cycle in. Interestingly, it was around this same time in 2006 that I ended my riding season. Then, I was able to ride until December 2--the day before the big December 3rd snow storm. Thus, almost one year to the day, I found myself in a similar position. My plan this time? Rise early, take the long cut to Motoworks--as a symbolic final ride, a sort of closure--and store Queenie for the winter season.

I was bright-eyed by 3 a.m.-- as some of my kin would say--"too early to be doing anything outside that is legal!" With hours to spare before the shop opened, I reached over, retrieved a book and lost myself in reading. After a few hours, I did some 'net searching and then returned to my book. By then seven hours had elapsed and I was getting drowsy. Took an hour nap and prepared to leave. Then some odd compulsion forced me to actually want to clean the kitchen before I left.

According to the weather report, the storm was due in by 2pm. Plenty of time, I figured. Then a phone call. The conversation re-energized me though it lasted way too long. I glanced out of the window and watched new snow falling. It was an hour earlier than predicted--ok, I know weather forecasting isn't an exact science. But still...Seeing the snow fall, a sigh of relief enveloped me...I wouldn't take the bike in. Like that's going to prevent the winter from happening? Like that's going to somehow extend the riding season? Denial--just delaying the inevitable. If I had left at that moment, I still could have taken the bike in without much risk. Denial. Instead, I dressed warmly, loaded up the camera and took a long walk in the snow.

On my way out, I passed Queenie. Forgive the anthropomorphizing, but she had a sad, pathetic look of pleading that seemed directed at me. It seemed to shout, "TIME TO STORE ME!"

Now, I'm hoping for at least one decent riding day within the next week or so to take Queenie in, perhaps, spend the winter with her buddies. Last year, she sat near one red and one yellow (couple owned) Suzuki SV650s, in a vast room replete with newish and vintage BMWs.

Clearly, I'm the only one in denial here. The season is over.

Let the planning for the new season begin!