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The Motorcycle Blog That Wasn’t About Motorcycles But Was

Lately while reading books, I’ve taken to scribbling down lines or passages that jump off of the page at me. Sometimes I’ll come across a real zinger that speaks to my heart and I have to put it in a place that I’ll remember it.

Have you ever picked up a book at a yard sale or a thrift shop and there were lines highlighted within the book? How can you remember which book to look in for the line? That wouldn’t work for me, to have to flip back through the actual pages for a single sentence. I find jotting it down in my notebook much more meaningful. It’s better have all of those ideas from different sources all in one place.

There seems to be a running theme with what calls to me to write it down. It is often messages about love, about time, the “real” meaning of life and about travel.

Just recently Adrian at YouMotorcycle mentioned in a post that my blog isn’t necessarily motorcycle-intensive. In some sense that is true. You won’t find nuts and bolts here or tips on fixing things here. No, this blog? This blog is about love, time, life and travel… on motorcycles. Everything that evolves on these posts comes from the thinking that happens on, about or around motorcycles. These posts all stem from the living done in that space.

I do all my best thinkin’ in the saddle. If you’re reading this, something tells me that you do to. You get get that.

Is There a Registry of Air Mail Boxes?

If there isn’t, maybe there should be. I know of 3 such Air Mail boxes, all of which I stumbled across in the wild.

Was there a time when these things were all the rage? I almost want to make one for my own house just because they’re so silly.

This one on Route 8 near Otis, Ma. is one that I’ve passed dozens of times. I finally stopped to snap a picture of the weekend.

I saw this one back in August of 2009 – Route 23 in Hillsdale, NY

And finally in a rather serendipitous twist of fate, while visiting a friend’s new house last summer – their neighbor had an Air Mail box. Perhaps it is a sign that I need one in my life.

Have you ever seen an Air Mail box?

[edit]

Thanks to the oracle (RoadsideAmerica.com)  and some quickie Google searching, here are some more Air Mail boxes:

If you have pictures or links to posts on your blog, please leave a comment, too!

[edit]

My friend Hammy, saw this one near Mohnton, Pa!

Do you HAVE to Chit-Chat With Other Riders?

When I glanced at the clock this morning, I hadn’t really planned on heading out for a day ride. It just sort of… happened. It was already a later start than I normally take so I opted for the ferry rather than riding off of Long Island via the Bronx.

When I pulled into the ferry parking lot I was the only motorcycle in line. The dock crew usually keeps motorcycles off to the side to squeeze them on wherever they’ll fit once the cars load.  I sat there for 10 minutes or so waiting my turn to ride up the ramp. While waiting, another motorcyclist arrived and pulled into the loading corral next to me. I gave a smile and a quick wave as we sat there idling, waiting to board.

When the dock staff motioned for us to go, the two of us loaded into the same area in the belly of the boat.

After parking, we both shed our gear and readied ourselves to head upstair to pay our fare. I didn’t make any small talk with my fellow rider or really even glance his way. You know how you can feeeeel someone looking at you like they want to talk? Yeah… that.

Sometimes, like this morning, that makes me feel like a dick. But the reality is, I just didn’t feel like talking. To anyone. I know I can come across as standoffish or chilly but, I’m just introverted. It sounds cliche but it’s not them, it’s me.

This leads me to question: Does the bond of riding oblige you to acknowledge your fellow motorcyclist or engage them deeper than just a quick hello? The rational part of me says, no. But the social norm part of me isn’t so sure.

I’m so socially awkward. It’s ridiculous.