A Cold Winter's Ride

Any excuse is good enough, I suppose. Christmas morning, I left Dutchtown at 5 AM on Boudreaux, headed 250 miles north to my mother's house. It was relatively cold but I had ridden in 38° weather before because it usually became a little warmer as the sun rose. This time, it was a tad different because the further north I got, the colder it became.
Cruising through Mangum, LA, I blinked when the LED sign at a bank announced 34°. I have to say though, it really wasn't that uncomfortable especially if your gear includes a t-shirt, two light sweaters, a hooded sweat suit jacket, thick leather motorcycle jacket, jeans, thick Doc Marten boots, regular socks, thermal socks, goggles, leather chaps, a neck warmer, stocking cap, cold weather ski gloves, cotton liner gloves and a lined helmet. In other words, I looked like the Michelin Man and felt like a sumo wrestler. Maneuverability could have been an issue if I had to make some quick moves. Even with the cold weather gear, the toes and fingers do get a little cold traveling at 65-75 mph for a couple of hours at a time.

The irony in all of this is 6 weeks and 3 thousand miles ago, I was riding 50° warmer. (Maui)

Why do that, you may ask. Well, ...hmm...I guess I just love riding that thing and will use the most flimsy excuse in the world just to get on it and ride.

Bah! Humbug!

I started dreading Christmas last New Years day but for what it's worth, "Merry Christmas". I still believe it's just a pagan holiday that someone tried to Christianize, but I pick my battles.

Happy Louisiana

Recent survey's have revealed that Louisianians are the happiest people in the nation, nudging out Hawaii. New York finished out dead last (imagine that) below some of the other more crowded states.

Here's my theory. Louisiana is plagued with flooding, hurricanes, pollution and an endless supply of elected officials who risk going to jail to steal a few thousand here and there.

Over the years, we've had populist politicians who have raked us over the pit for so long, we naturally believe we're going to take it in the backside one more time. Hence, we have a much lower expectation for the future. One side effect might be the party atmosphere found here even in front of disaster. Many of us live by the, "Eat, drink and be merry for tomorrow we may die," attitude.

The more people you have rubbing up against each other, the greater the misery factor. Centuries and even decades ago, when people couldn't take more regulation and stepping on each others' toes, they simply picked up, crammed their junk in a cart, wagon or a ship and headed west. Unfortunately, the Westward Expansion has run out of territory and possibly we've shrugged our shoulders and said, "What the heck, we'll just live with it!"

Laissez les bons temps rouler, anyone?

Worthless, absolutely worthless.

For six weeks, I've been absolutely worthless, cooking too much, eating too much and riding around on Boudreaux the Harley. Did I mention, spending way too much money?

After three weeks of vacation and another three that the office didn't have a place to send me, I had not worked since October 30, in spite of being on the payroll. It was welcomed when I received a call telling me I'd be in La Porte, (Houston) Texas for a couple of weeks. The bummer was that I would be training with a guy who, as it turned, acted like he was doing me a favor for showing up to work. For reasons too deep to go into, I was supposed to meet him Saturday and work but got a call a little after I arrived informing me it wasn't going to happen. Bummer! I had canceled a trip back home and an annual motorcycle ride to visit and spread a little cheer to the guys up at the Louisiana Veteran's Home in Jackson, LA.

So, after I found myself free Saturday I took a ride down to Galveston and Sunday, I visited and had lunch with my Aunt Lettie in a retirement home up in Tomball. It was good to see her.

Here's a rave for you. Asking the desk clerk at the Hampton which Mexican restaurant was the best, he recommended Valdo's Seafood Restaurant just up the road on Nasa Boulevard. Although it was a slow night, the staff was attentive and polite. I chose the Fajita Chicken and Spinach quesadillas with charro beans and rice served with fresh hot baked bread. It really was that good, so raves to it and the desk clerk who sent me.

A Dutchtown Christmas

Getting together for the holidays can be somewhat of an effort with scheduling, some out of town and some with other priorities.

My immediate clan gathered together for chili, snacks and a grand old time this weekend.

This group contains ( not necessarily in order) Darlene, Darren, Donna, Hagan, Janet, Jacqueline, Henry, Kate, Robert, Rebecca, Devin, Blaise, Hadley, Nick, Jared, Laurie, Jaime, Susan, Chris and myself.

Merry Christmas.

Henry the Biker

Henry brought his mom and dad by late Sunday afternoon for some gumbo. Well, Henry wasn't too hungry but the rest of us sure got into that pot.

After dinner, we went outside to battle the mosquitoes (Something wrong with having to fight mosquitoes this late in the year) and try on a Harley. In another couple of decades, I wouldn't be surprised if Henry wasn't riding one with regularity. Let's see....I'll be......hmm....a VERY old man then.

Sugar Pumkin

Miss Hadley dropped by early Sunday afternoon to pay Nannie and me a visit. Nothing cuter than a one year old just now getting comfortable on the legs. She doesn't talk much other than the "Dadda" and "Mama" words but has a decent vocabulary in American Sign Language. She's quite capable of expressing "more" of anything, complimenting it with the sign for "please."

She's definitely not deaf but her mom and dad read that teaching them sign language at an early age reduces frustration in her own attempt to communicate.

Rounding out the vacation

After getting home and barely unpacked, I remembered a promise to a pair of 11 year olds regarding a weekend camping trip. "Camping" as defined as going to Lake D'Arbonne State Park and living in a tent overnight.

Friday afternoon, I picked up Susan's son, Nick and we headed up to Monroe to meet up with my grandson, Devin and to spend the night there.

It was promising a light rain but perhaps the new tent would keep us dry. Reasonably early, Saturday morning, we drove up to the lake, picked out a sight and through up a tent in the piney woods of north Louisiana. There was the occasional light drip or rain but it came nowhere close to dampening the spirits of the little boys. At one point, I was confident that I had a pair of pyromaniacs in training. However, much to my relief and I'm sure the park rangers, we managed to not set the woods on fire.

It was only one night but we came back after a great time, bringing with us lots of smokey smelling clothes, dirt on jeans and a desire for a decent night's sleep.

Click here for the pictures (evidence).

Well, we're back

Although, we enjoyed ourselves to the fullest, we're back from Maui. I can't promise I won't grumble when I have to drag my suitcase through some place in an Outer Mongolian style location this winter for sure.

Darlene and I stayed at our friends, Don and Rachel's place feeding the cats and thwarting would be burglars while they were on their own adventure in Miami and Belize.

There's too many pictures to post and some are pretty much redundant, so click here to check out the slide show. The pics are in no particular order.

Snubbed

In the hierarchy or pecking order of motorcyclists, there are unwritten rules regarding riding etiquette if you will. It's well known that certain types of riders consider themselves as the real bikers and the rest are squids or newbies or just not cool. I've never quite subscribed to that notion but maybe it's because I ride a do Harley which garners a few more chips on the table than other bikes.

Yesterday, I was riding my friend's 650cc Yamaha in Kihei, HI. Ninety-nine % of the time, I ride with jeans, boots and some kind of jacket and gloves but I had brought absolutely none of that with me so here I was riding a motorcycle with a pair of flowery swim trunks, t-shirt, baseball cap and sneakers. Although I am familiar with the controls, buttons and functions of the bike, it isn't perfect second nature compared to my own. So, just as I was coming out of a parking lot, a pair of real bikers were riding by on a pair of Low Rider Harleys stopped at the light. My left hand instinctively thumbed what would have been the left turn signal on my bike but on the smaller Yamaha, it was the horn button.

When I accidentally blew the horn, the Sons of Hawaii bikers turned to the sound of the "Beeeeeeeeep", stared a second or two then looked back at the road. You could just see the eye roll through their dark glasses. Grateful that they didn't give me one of those one percenter salutes, I rode off in another direction, realizing I had actually been snubbed by what appeared to be a couple of members of the Sons of Hawaii Motorcyle Club.

After fueling up, I rode off through the lush landscaped golf courses and resorts of Wailea toward Makena Landing. Just a few years ago, the development was contained to a tight cluster of hotels and a few high dollar developments but recently, lots of bulldozers have cleared the scrub brush and cleaned off the countryside. This is the area that normally attracts locals and returning visitors who have a respect for the island and are more comfortable enjoying Maui in an unimproved state. They fish, dive, surf and occasionally have a small fire where they cook and eat. Over the past couple of years, there has been somewhat of a battle between recreational service providers and the County of Maui. The county has placed what some would describe as draconian rules and regulations on companies providing surf and diving lessons and equipment which would all but put them out of business. As I rode into Makena Landing, I saw a lot of money being spent on improvements to the area. An owner of the property all around the beach access had cleared the hillside and had million dollar lots for sale all over the place. Makena is being transformed, lot by lot, from a wild natural place to a slick commercial and residential area. Now, I understand why the county had taken the position it has. Developed areas do not need 4 wheel drive trucks, campfires, cheap weddings on the beach and people not spending money there. I've been told, the developer actually owns most of the access to Makena Landing. Just follow the money.

I rode to the end of the road, near La Perouse Bay and as I stopped to take a few pictures, a couple on a Harley and Suzuki stopped and chatted with me for a while. They were the heads of a motorcycle political action group (Street Bikers United of Maui) that united everything from the Sons of Hawaii to the Christian Motorcycle Association. We talked travel and motorcycles for a while, then shook hands and acknowledged the goodness of meeting other riders. I rode back to the house to check on Darlene.

Woohoooo.....off to Maui

Wooooohooooo........... Ms Darlene and myself are packing the ride headed fo' Nawlins, headed out for Maui and we'll be back in 3 weeks. We'll be staying in Kihei.

If you look at the map of Maui as being a person.....the roundish part on the left being a head...then Kihei is near the Adam's Apple near the 'neck' on the map. Maui is the second largest island in the chain and and older than the big island of Hawaii. If you're really old, you might have also heard of them as the Sandwich Islands. I'll take a shrimp po-boy, please.

If you're nice, we might bring you back a cup of Shave Ice. No, that's not a typo. "Shaved Ice" is a mainlander thing while "shave ice" is the Hawaiian thing and I suppose, Oahu in particular.

The Breezeway

This year, when we had to fly into St Louis for our annual meeting, I had to fly Northwest aka Pinnacle Airlines. Really, Northwest Air is irrelevant because it's being gobbled up by the behemoth, Delta Airlines.

Now, I realize there's a guy or two in a cubicle somewhere in Memphis who had to think up new and exciting ways for frequent fliers to feel like they've made the grade but some of the things these guys come up with just seems a tad silly if you ask me.

For instance, just before we were to load the plane in Memphis, the gate attendant marches over to gate and switches the rope from one post to another and announces that Delta Medallion and Northwest Elite fliers could now board via the Breezeway. Basically, the only difference between the Breezeway and any other track was the rug you walked over with 'Breezeway' emblazoned on it.

After a couple of people made their way through the Breezeway, it appeared there were no others qualified for that perk, so she removed the rope so the unwashed not so frequent fliers could board. I looked around to see a few travelers rolling their eyes and giving sheepish grins.

Whatever it takes to add value and importance to a product or service, I guess but I would be just as happy if they saved the expense of buying and cleaning the rug and not charge me $15 for my bag.

Old Dog Parable

To my fellow "Old Dogs"

One day the old German Shepherd starts chasing rabbits and before long, discovers that he's lost. Wandering about, he notices a leopard heading rapidly in his direction with the intention of having lunch.

The old German Shepherd thinks, 'Oh, no! I'm in deep doo-doo now!' Noticing some bones on the ground close by, he immediately settles down to chew on the bones with his back to the approaching cat. Just as the leopard is about to leap, the old German Shepherd exclaims loudly, 'Boy, that was one delicious leopard! I wonder, if there are any more around here?'

Hearing this, the young leopard halts his attack in mid-strike, a look of terror comes over him and he slinks away into the trees. 'Whew!' says the leopard, 'That was close! That old German Shepherd nearly had me!'


Meanwhile, a monkey who had been watching the whole scene from a nearby tree, figures he can put this knowledge to good use and trade it for protection from the leopard. So, off he goes, but the old German Shepherd sees him heading after the leopard with great speed, and figures that something must be up.


The monkey soon catches up with the leopard, spills the beans and strikes a deal for himself with the leopard.


The young leopard is furious at being made a fool of and says, 'Here, monkey, hop on my back and see what's going to happen to that conniving canine!


Now, the old German Shepherd sees the leopard coming with the monkey on his back and thinks, 'What am I going to do now?', but instead of running, the dog sits down with his back to his attackers, pretending he hasn't seen them yet, and just when they get close enough to hear, the old German Shepherd says...
'Where's that monkey? I sent him off an hour ago to bring me another leopard!'


Moral of this story...

Don't mess with the old dogs... age and skill will always overcome youth and treachery! BS and brilliance only come with age and experience.

Of course, I am in no way insinuating that any of you are old, some are just more 'youthfully challenged'.

- Author Unknown

Answer Machine Message From Queensland Maroochydore High School

The Preacher Said I Was A Loner

The pastor's sermon Saturday afternoon dealt with people who were often alone even when in a crowd. Ironically, I had just had that discussion with Darlene the morning before that so Pastor Dino's message was pretty much a confirmation as if it was for me personally. Not that it's a life altering situation, it's just how some people are wired. However, we are designed to overcome certain things that can prevent us from growing even as we get older.

Taking that in mind, I decided to join a group ride to New Orleans from the Harley shop in Baton Rouge, Sunday. Typically, when I'm in a crowd, I smile a bunch, shake a few hands and promptly forget any name given, but yesterday I genuinely made an effort to be get to know some folks but when you're on a relatively loud Harley, there ain't a whole lot of conversation that's going to happen.

We fired up at 9 AM and rode down old River Road through Geismar, Burnside, Convent, Kenner and stopping a couple of times before eventually arriving at the New Orleans Fairgrounds where we had an awful buffet lunch. The trip there, in it's self, was an effort in dealing with 50 riders with 50 different riding styles but we were blessed with no incidents or accidents. Everyone was friendly enough but alas, I forgot (I told you I would forget them) the names of everybody I met except for a couple of the guys I hooked up with on the way back as we detoured around Lakeshore and the New Orleans Yacht Club.

I'm looking forward to doing that again and maybe I can get to know them a little better next time.

A great day to spend doing absolutely nothing!

A great day to spend doing absolutely nothing!

Leaving Darlene in dreamland with the coffee pot on auto pilot, I fired Boudreau up relatively early at the crack of dawn to go to a men's bible study at Frank's this morning. Aside from that, everything else was pretty much a worthless day except for a few miles and a tank of gas. This is one of my first 'official' vacation days I've taken this year so I took off with my trusty camera just to take pictures and ride my bike.

Going down River Road, I stopped off at a local tourist trap near Sorrento where there's a fenced off area behind old houses that make up the village. Behind a 6 foot heavy duty chain link fence, there's an alligator or two that hang out waiting on a daily ration of a whole chicken. There's not much motivation for them to wander off because the eating is good and I suppose the nuisance level is pretty low too. He must have been around 10 feet long. Just take my word for it because I wasn't about to stroll out there with a yardstick to see how long his tail was. They may not have fed it the chicken for the day.

The fall flowers were out and so were the bees, hornets and mosquitoes. On this photo of the berry, you can make out my image reflecting on the skin of the berry.

A ride down old Airline Highway toward Gramercy had me getting off the bike to see what I could see in the water. I noticed a crab swimming at the top and occasionally flicking water with it's claw.

Looking at a cabin across the barr pit, I remember years ago traveling along Highway 61 and seeing small houseboats lining the banks for miles. Here's one of the last hold outs for cabins.

As I was taking the picture of the crab, a young woman came across on her small personal ferry and crawled into a Bayou Beater (maybe a 15 year old Nissan) apparently headed to work. I would have figured it occupied by some old crusty fellow like myself. Notice the satellite receiver to the left of the to the building. Sounds kind of romantic in a way but a 'Tammy', she wasn't. Bless her heart, she was probably scrounging for every dime just to make a living but at least she is working.....she's a real kind of girl.

Still a nice day to be in Louisiana.

They don't make'em like they used to.

Spending the weekend with my mother, we talked about her keeping the place up, winter coming on, etc. She stays pretty active with a fairly large place to keep up. Her complaints usually include keeping the battery up on the pick-up truck and how the grass grows so quickly.

She had a man come by to cut some wood for her early so it could dry a bit before winter. Although he split much of it, there were some pieces she felt was too large for the fireplace, so she set out to split it on her own.

One log in particular wouldn't seem to split so she inserted a wedge in the crack of it and began to hammer it down with the butt end of a single bit axe. After a few mighty swats, the axe broke. I guess they don't make them like they used to.

In defense of the axe, it was an axe that my grandfather had and probably well over a hundred years old. Mama is only 87.

Nope, they just don't make'em like they used to.