The Road to Hernias are Paved with Good Intentions

*** continued from previous post ***

We were starving, but sure we would find a charming restaurant just up the road.

But first, we had to make our escape. Like Ninjas. Sneaky Canadian Ninjas. Lest we forget ourselves and wake in a week or two sitting in the Pub with 'Zombie-Dude' pouring drinks for those only he can see. Quiet was the order of the day.

Eager to avoid a scene, we decided that we would PUSH the Vision far, far from the Motel so as not to wake nor rouse the Local Pitchfork Mob with the rumblings of our mighty exhaust. You know us, deep down beneath the leather and the helmets and the tattoos on our foreheads that say 'KILLER', we try to be considerate people. Mostly. The operative word being 'try'

Now, I don't know if you're aware of exactly how much the Vision weighs. The dry weight - and what the hell does that mean? What if you live somewhere it's raining all the time? Dry weight will do you no good. What you need is wet weight for a really informed decision. Or, at the very least, slightly moist weight - anyway, the dry weight of the Victory Vision is 849 pounds, give or take an ounce. The saddlebags were stuffed with easily another 45 pounds or so, the trunk was crammed with another 40 pounds and then you had that diabolical "100% FRICKIN' GUARANTEED WATERPROOF" bag and you can tack on another 25 pounds. I go 200. Your Mom is 105. The gear we were wearing, combined between us was at least 20 pounds with the armored mesh and helmets and Mom's security rock. A full tank of gas, (6 gallons), adds another 50 pounds rounded up. As you can see, if you've been doing the math, I was going to attempt to push well over 9000 pounds around with no reverse gear, no motor to help, and every inch uphill - and backwards. And why in God's name someone had coated the driveway with butter I'll never know. Perhaps it is some quaint Canadian custom of which I am unawares. Much like the Canadian propensity for human sacrifice around harvest time. Oh, those silly Canadian farmers and their festivals hearkening back to simpler days. I envy their simplicity. Any-who, I pop a hernia just thinking about it. Sherpa-ing an epileptic baby elephant - on crack - up the side of Mt. Everest wearing roller blades would be easier than rolling our beast backwards and uphill.

I pull up the kickstand and we promptly fall over.

HA! Gotcha! No, I pull up the kickstand, take a deep breath and push backwards with my legs.

And . . . nothing. Not even a budge. I try several more times without success.

"What are we going to do?" Mom asked.

"Hmmmm . . . " I pondered, "set fire to the bike and claim the insurance?"

"That would be fine, but we would be stuck in Galway Bay," she said and cast a nervous glance about, "possibly forever."

I saw her point. So through super-human strength, and a promise to the Elder Gods, (Cthulu, are you listening?), to give them my first-born son, (Jokes on them! I done been all fixapated! No more genetic wealth from this guy!), I finally got the bike rolling and managed to wrestle it far enough away from the motel that we believed we could make our escape without alerting the authorities. Which, thankfully, we did and trundled off down the highway with flowers and puppies in our hearts and a slight headache from exertion. Oh, and a major leg cramp. I was pushing 9000 pounds after all.



*** the journey continues tomorrow and comments are always welcome ***

Motorcycle Pastimes in the August Sun

It's been a slow week. Maybe people have finally decided to take a motorcycle vacation since gas prices are starting to inch downward again. Some have gone to the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally but I hear that vendors and attendance there are taking a hit this year.

A lot of people are taking staycations this year. I guess I'm one of them. I have to save up to be able to participate in the Polar Bear Grand Tour that starts the last weekend of October. Gasoline for two trikes could end up costing $1000 for that six month tour throughout the winter. I take all the pictures at the various runs and maintain their website.

For those not out on their motorcycles, here's a few things you can do on my website:

• Take my Motorcycle Quizzes to test your knowledge of bikes.
  
• Play around with my online Motorcycle Jigsaw Puzzles. These puzzles use pictures I took on Polar Bear runs.
  
• Check out my Motorcycle Tattoos gallery. Got your own tattoo? Send it in.
  
• Look at my Women on Motorcycles gallery. Be inspired by women who ride their own motorcycles.
  
• Look at my Antique Motorcycle Ads gallery. See how motorcycles were advertised when they sold for only a few hundred dollars.
  

Now if only they had motorcycle racing or motorcycle trials in the 2008 Summer Beijing Olympics, there would be more to do.

Ink, I think

I’ve wanted to do a post on tattoos lately, as I think tattoos and motorcycles kinda go hand in hand.

I have a few, literally.

I’ve recently seen Dave Perewitz get a tattoo on video http://www.lifeatperewitz.com/ at ACME Tattoo in Minnesota while he was here for the Donnie Smith Bike Show, and I recently commented on a fellow blogger’s post regarding a Harley tattoo he got.
http://harley-davidson-mystique.blogspot.com/ The comment was "similar" to what I’m about to tell you here:

I have three tattoos, and only three for a very good reason. I had two before I got married. I decided I needed a third tattoo and got the blessing from my wife. So, a friend and I decided we were going to get tattoos together after work one day. I told my wife I was going to get a Harley tattoo, which I honestly did intend to do. She said, "Are you sure? I don't want anything evil!" Well, needless to say, I came home with an evil tattoo, not related to Harleys at all. It started out innocent enough, but the tattoo artist asked if I wanted it embellished after he got the basic tattoo done. He said he had no one else in line and he’d do it for free. I said sure, and he made it kind of portrait looking, like it was under my skin. It looks pretty damn evil. This was to be my last tattoo if Mama was to remain happy. We all know if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy. She was not happy with me at all for a very long time. You should know if a very long time turns into too long, you ain’t happy with half your stuff. Well, It took a long time for her to stop complaining about it. She hates it to this day. She'd say "cover it up, It's looking at me!" I love my wife dearly, and the fight over wanting to get more tattoos is not worth it. I got a Harley though, and she doesn't complain about that,(much). The Harley is a whole different story. Anyway, I told him to enjoy his "first" tattoo, and said I'm sure there'll be more to come.

By the way, I still don’t have that Harley tattoo yet. And I love tattoos as much as my wife, Harleys, and custom paint.

Motorcycle Tattoos - Art or Ego?

I have a Motorcycle Tattoos Gallery that is quite popular. I make it a requirement that each person submitting a tattoo must be a motorcyclist and must state what bike they currently ride.

Now some think that tattoos are done impulsively without much thought. Others create whole galleries of tattoos on their bodies to reflect their own outlook on life or to characterize their experiences. Still others view tattoos as art -- motorcycle art.

What's your take? Leave your comments below.

Have you got a tattoo to place in our Motorcycle Tattoos Gallery? Send it in and see your art on our site.