Tag: mom

Olde Tyme Travel Blogging By My Mom

Olde Tyme Travel Blogging By My Mom

While at my mom’s house for Thanksgiving, I got a chance to look through a bag of travel mementos that she’d set aside for me. Inside were stickers, pamphlets, receipts and ticket stubs from her travels over the years.

My eyes zeroed right in on a South of the Border bumper sticker in the stack. I knew I was there as a kid but haven’t really been able to place the exact time. Now, thanks to my mom’s olde tyme blogging on the back of an envelope – I know. July 17, 1988. I was 14.

fuzzygalore south of the border bumper sticker

Apparently we actually stayed over at a motel there. I wish I could jog my memory for any dusty recollection of this. I don’t remember going up in the sombrero tower or seeing any of the fiberglass figures around. Other than a dim memory of perusing some fireworks in a store, I’ve got nothing.

My mom scribbled down the toll rates, mileage, times, dates… I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

I have been talking to my daughter Chloe about going to South of the Border. I’m not even really sure why. I just want to. She seems to be all in on taking the trip. Maybe it’s a rite of passage in the Fuzzmop family 😀

Side note: “Vargina”? Really, Mom? 😆


fuzzygalore howard johnson dillon south carolina

While going through the papers today, I found that we stayed in a Howard Johnson’s at I-95 exit 193 in Dillon, SC for the bargain rate of $37.40, including tax. Today that HoJo is long gone.

fuzzygalore south of the border brochure

The South of the Border brochure is super kitschy.

fuzzygalore south of the border brochure

Just check out the deluxe crushed velvet honeymoon suite! Velvet lamps on chains, carpet covered champagne chiller, entertainment system in the clamshell headboard thingy. Hubba hubba!

Shadowriding with My Favorite Girl

Shadowriding with My Favorite Girl

Before she was a fully realized thought in my belly, my daughter has been riding along with me.

It has been some time since she’s been perched on the pillion seat of my Tiger, usually opting instead to take the Queen’s seat in the sidecar of the Ural. As we prepped ourselves to head out for an evening en plein air I asked her if she wanted to take the Tiger or the Ural. To my surprise she opted for the Triumph.

There are moments in parenthood where you recognize the growth of your child seemingly all at once. My now teenage daughter has grown up overnight. We stand eye to eye, her long curly hair, dyed blue, flags in the wind. I have come to realize that she is just like me. The me that I was as a teenage girl, only better.

While we cut down the road, I caught glimpses of our shadow riding along side of us. Her pony tail waving in the wind behind her is burned into my mind. Deep imaginings of us touring together have started to take root. It’s just about that time…

fuzzygalore - mom and daughter dirt boots when she was little…

Things a Motorcycle Mom Wonders

Things a Motorcycle Mom Wonders

One of the most important deciding factors in me getting the Ural was how my daughter Chloe felt about it. When I first brought the idea up on an indian summer afternoon, her eyes lit up as we talked. If it were up to her, we would have immediately gone to the Ural dealer. She was all in.

My daughter is my life’s finest work. I don’t have the power to string together a sentence that could do justice to describing just how much I love that kid. The idea that she likes spending time with her ole Ma, well… it makes me feel like a million bucks.

Out for a winter evening ride in Ural

Last night we rolled the orange rig out of the garage, suited up and went for a ride. Mountains of snow lined the roadways. A wet spray pinwheeled into the air as cars drove through the trickling melt. She could have been tucked away warm, playing video games at home, instead – she wanted to go for a ride.

As we rode along under the street lamps, I kept stealing glances of my girl in her chair. She just sat quietly, watching the world go by.

I often wonder what it is that she’s thinking about when we’re cruising along. And yet, part of me doesn’t really want to know because whatever it is, it belongs to her alone.

What will the memories of these ride be like for her years down the road? As a mom, I wonder. My hope is that riding in the big orange sidecar will become one of the many happy threads that weave through her childhood.

Only time will tell…

A Christmas Ride with Mom

A Christmas Ride with Mom

You just never know how a day will unfold when you get up in the morning, do you? On Christmas day, our family gathered to celebrate. We ate and laughed and listened to stories of the past, of hopes for the future.

During lunch my dad asked about the Ural as he often does. This was his first visit to our house in months so he’d only ever seen it in photos. Kenny quickly wheeled it out so that my pop could get a good look at it.

I made a promise to my dad that if he is feeling up to it in the spring that I will take him for a ride. That idea really must have tickled him, because he hung on to it for the rest of the day and every conversation we’ve had since Christmas. He has been reminding me that he’s excited to go for a ride. That makes my heart happy.

While we sat and chit chatted at the kitchen table – my mom, my sweet, awesome mom, didn’t bat an eyelash when I asked her if she wanted to go for a ride. There was no hesitation, no wavering, just YES! 

I’m proud to say that after nearly 20 years of riding motorcycles, I finally took my mom out for her first ride with me.

I threw my riding jacket on over my dress, slipped a pair of jeans and with the biggest smile in the world on my moms face ~ away we went putt-putting down the road.

mom, me and the ural

When I glanced over at her in the sidecar, it was like looking at a 20-year-old version of my mom. Her gray-blue eyes were busy smiling away through the helmet. The magic and youthfulness of wonder had captured her. She was thrilled and that was the best feeling in the world for me.

mom , me and the ural

When we arrived back at the house from the sidecar I heard, ‘Oh, I love it! We could ride across country. Would you ride this to California?’   Yes, mom. I think I would 🙂

Seeing my mom so happy made my Christmas.

Have you ever had the pleasure of going for a ride with your parents?