Category: Motorcycle

Blog posts about motorcycles.

Haaaaaay, Look at this Kickass School Bus!

Haaaaaay, Look at this Kickass School Bus!

I don’t have a unique method for finding oddball stuff. There is no special radar or a giant U-shaped magnet that draws me to it. But I do sit in front of a computer all day and I do mentally (and electronically) catalog things that interest me.

Map pins aside, I sure do stumble across a lot of neat stuff serendipitously – like this hay bale school bus in eastern Pennsylvania. Could it just be that I’m tuned in to seeing things that other people might ignore? Perhaps. Maybe it’s simply that when I’m riding my motorcycle I am hyperaware.

And really, stuff like this is just dying to be seen:

hay bale school bus

Awesome, right?!

hay bale school bus

 

Instagram, Motorcycles and the Pondering of a Grouch

Instagram, Motorcycles and the Pondering of a Grouch

Apparently, these were my “best nine” photos on Instagram in 2017. And by best, the gang at 2017bestnine.com simply mean the ones with the most likes. I don’t think these are the best photos I’ve taken all year – not that I’ve ever prided myself on being a great picture-taker. But I get lucky once in a while.

The more I use it the less I understand social media. I mean, I get the technological premise and even the naive goal. I suppose what I’m really saying is that I don’t understand people and their motivations.

Strategically placed products, brand ambassadors, curation-machines… I need to get off this ride. I don’t care about any of it.

And since Instagram decided that it knows best what I want to see algorithmically – I see the same people, and even the same photos reshared all the time. I’m not necessarily seeing pictures from people I actually care about. I don’t see photos from everyone I follow. This is not what I want.

Get off my lawn.

Perhaps I’ll always favor blogs. Passive as they are, whether I get to see them or not is directly controlled by me. I dunno, maybe I’m holding on to the past too tightly.

Why don’t you tell me (and whoever else is reading this) about your “I’m not going to try to sell you anything, I just share my life” blog in a comment below? Or maybe share your “I’m not a brand ambassador” Instagram account?

Spreading Cheer – Photos from Our 2017 Santaride

Spreading Cheer – Photos from Our 2017 Santaride

My very first Santa-ride was a solo affair in 2010 – just me dressed like the big man cruising around on my DRZ. I don’t really remember what made me decide to buy the red suit and go for a ride in the first place. It really seems like a ridiculous idea. But, there is a special kind of magic in the ridiculous.

Over the years, what seemed like a good idea blossomed into a great idea when friends started to join in. Our little local Santa-ride has become something of a tradition. As new friends ride along and old friend watch from afar the feelings that come from doing it never change.

My favorite ADVelf:

Joy.

There is a special moment, something akin to an awakening that happens across the face of a stranger when they see 10 motorcycle Santas. I kid you not, there is child-like elation that they cannot contain. The goal has always been to just ride around and spread cheer to the people on the roads. Happiness is a gift that everyone can use and it always fits.

I’ve said it for several years now – doing this, making someone’s day… is a gift you give yourself.

The Inner Monologue of one Motorcycle Blogger

The Inner Monologue of one Motorcycle Blogger

It’s been a few months now since I set off on a road trip through the Virginias. In the time that has passed, I’ve struggled to put together posts to talk about what I saw. And that isn’t because I didn’t see anything worth writing about. It’s something different that I wrestle with episodically.

As my mindset fluctuates, the way that I approach writing about my time does too. But, I find that I’m often stuck in the same old pattern of trying to write about life in the “old way.” My robotic response is to work linearly on a timeline in medium-sized chunks. But, thoughts don’t always happen that way, do they?

For a while, I was especially rigid about timing. If I’d ridden somewhere 2 months ago and didn’t write about it then? Well, it was too late. There was some imaginary freshness calendar that had to be adhered to otherwise I wasn’t allowed to write about it. Isn’t that strange that I could be so particular about something like that? I’ve gotten over that, mostly.

What I’m learning is that trying to make my thoughts fit into a predefined size or shape is a recipe for disaster. Instead of an easy-to-follow formula that allows me to just plug in the pictures and words, I end up with a cramp. The result? Nothing.

My thoughts are scattered like dandelion seeds and are constantly floating away from me. Why can’t I share them here in that way? Little idea whisps that sail on a current – their barbs getting stuck on the people that want to read them. That’s how things like Instagram work. Everything is shared in snack-sized bites.

Why do I resign myself to thinking that I have to make blog posts lengthy? Why do I feel the pressure to write about my time in a particular way, as if there is some correct method to blogging? Why do I censor sharing my interests because I think other people are sick of reading about them? Why would I care if someone else thinks I post too much or too little? Why can’t a picture be worth a thousand words when I do it here? So many rules. But why?

We each develop a personal process to produce the things that matter to us. I feel that when I doodle in my sketchbook, too. When I deviate from my natural process, things feel off. To the viewer, the end result probably doesn’t look any different but I know something isn’t right. But how does the process grow when you’re so busy following the old rules?

I’ve always maintained that I write my blog first and foremost for myself. It is my system of record for thoughts and feelings about moving through the world on a motorcycle. But that must be a lie I tell myself. There is a nagging undercurrent of the need to please others or fitting into preconceived notions about what they want from me. Approaching this blog from the outside in is when things go wrong. You’d think I’d have fully understood and embraced that by now. I mean, I know that so why does the need for a reminder keep bubbling up to the surface?

 

The Old Burke’s Garden Virginia Post Office

The Old Burke’s Garden Virginia Post Office

Following the very wiggly VA 623, will drop you into the upland valley of Burke’s Garden, Virginia. When there, something about it feels like you’re in a place cut off from the rest of the world.

The local whitepages:

My travels brought me to Burke’s Garden because of a photo I’d seen online of an old post office with a Pepsi ghost ad on the side. I was surprised to see what nice shape the mural is in. By the looks of things, that Pepsi ad is pretty well cared for.

I gingerly stepped up onto the front stoop to take a look inside. My chances of either falling through the step or being stung by bees seemed to be about 50-50. It made me chuckle to myself to think that if I was really lucky, maybe I’d be able to pull off both.

The sign above the door reads: “Burkes Garden, Va – God’s Land”

 

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