That time of year!

YUP... as I have been doing for 2 decades now, each year I prepare a series of goals for myself.

Nothing spectacular really, mostly just things I would like to start/do/or complete.  For example Trevor and I started building my home replica miniature shed last year (2015) and it was on my list to complete this year (2016) Which has now been ticked off my goal sheet.

The Shed

I plan upcoming rides, maybe something like... next year I will do a story of my trip around Bras D'or Lake. Keep my weight to less than 150 lbs, walk/hike more often. 


Maybe get around to restoring one of my old motorbikes.  I usually throw in something that requires some planning and that has an element of adventure/danger to it.  In the past I have ridden Baja California, the Crown King trail from south (uphill) to north and the KVR in British Columbia.  I've even lane split in Hollywood and Athens. 


In 2008 and '09, I rode 22 countries in Europe on a very nice used Diversion 600, over a period of 7 months!



Early '70's TY 175

At the end of the year I take out the filing folder and check off the things I have done, and sit down and do up the following years goals which I can say happily, I did yesterday.  Unfortunately I may have bitten off more than I can chew for 2017, there are some pretty ambitious items on there. No point in giving them away at this point. We shall see how the coming 12 months unfolds.

Generally I manage to get between 75 and 80% of my goals done.  I never pick anything that relies on someone other than myself.  I learned long ago that people for whatever reason, can be terribly unreliable. 

 

The DT 50/LC in Baja

Like the Baja trip for myself and a buddy, and his buddy wanted to do with me one winter.  It was all gung ho for several months preceding but as the scheduled departure time was nearing first the buddy dropped out and on the Friday prior to Monday's departure, my "buddy" found he had other things to do.  This resulted in my changing vehicles from the pick-up truck to the Jeep, which wasn't too bad as I had it rigged to carry a bike on a front rack.  I had often turned down 'offers' to tag along, share expenses and reduce the danger aspect for this simple reason.  This incident was the last time I took anyone seriously about these trips.

I would rather go it alone than have to deal with these posers in any case.

I can't tell you how many times I have heard someone tell me what they are going to do, and somehow that 'thing' doesn't actually get done.  The trick is to think it, plan it write it down and get determined.  That is the only way the lawn gets cut or you take off to Mulege!

So as the year 2016 counts down the final hours... with Ewen and Charley's Long Way Round playing on the DVD in the background, the year 2017 will begin to unfold very shortly.  With it, I will be once again working on my many Adventures and of course with the odd (Mis) Adventure thrown in!

Happy New year to all... keep on bikin'  Stay safe, and get out there and do it.

No explanation required!  Oranges off my tree...

 

 

Delays delays... and more delays!

...did I mention the delays?

I was beginning to feel a little like Steve Martin in the classic holiday action adventure film,

"Planes, Trains, and Automobiles."         



Pretty much the only difference was the Holiday (US Thanksgiving vs Christmas) and there was no sign of John Candy anywhere (makes me sad)

I was... however, back to square one it seemed.

After nearly a week of delays, cancellations, aborted landings... reports of extremely high winds around the Island I was reminded of a trip Holly took a few years back.  She was flying through the holidays and I was duly at the airport in C'town waiting for her.  Yes I had checked the schedule, so I drove to the BIG city and even then it showed her flight as on time.  No biggy I thought.  Shortly thereafter the arrivals board showed her flight as arrived.  Ummm, thing is... I hadn't seen a plane!  

It wasn't much later, perhaps 20 minutes I could hear the jet approaching on final, saw the aircraft pass over the runway at about 200' altitude gear down, and then heard the wail as the throttle was opened and the jet disappeared from my view.  What gives?



It wasn't more than 10 minutes and the jet came by again, same as before, wheels down above the runway. 

Then it was gone...

The board still showed as 'arrived' but the plane had obviously departed.  There were high winds and C'Town only has a single runway, so if the crosswinds are too high, the flight aborts which is exactly what happened at that time. 

To say "chaos ensued" would be stretching it but of course the flight was diverted.  Now there are several airports which it could have gone to, there is Moncton about an hours drive from me, or Halifax, about three hours.  Nope, turned out the plane headed back to Toronto!!!

Yup, the kid spent New years eve dead tired after flying across the continent, at an airport hotel!

SO... I'm back at my pad in Phx. This is the second time this week I've been defeated by weather.

I had taken the precaution while there on the Thursday attempt to re-book for the following Sunday.  After all the long range weather report was telling me it was going to be 9C back home and moderate winds.  We all know that that weatherman is seldom wrong, especially if he's a she!  

What could possibly go wrong right...?         

Judy graciously drove me back once again, this was my third attempt to get home from home.

I had plenty of time, knew the drill, whisked through security and headed to Gate B 27.  I won't go into the @11G*%@ details but suffice to say, things were tense, there where a lot of irate people, things were getting out of hand, airline employees like the American Airlines reps at gate 26 were getting very red faced  tired of answering the many inquiries with... 

'I DO NOT WORK FOR WESTJET, NO I DON'T KNOW WORK FOR AIR CANADA, I DON'T WHERE THEY ARE, NO I DON'T KNOW WHERE YOU FLIGHT IS..."  


I did make it home that night after all.  Sure our flight into the Island was 2 hours late and as we were on final, the winds that should have been calmed down, rocked us good and hard!  My fear was that in the next second or two I would hear the whine of the turbines as the throttles were pushed forward and we'd be climbing once again, headed to, you guessed it, the center of the Universe.

Or that we would slew and crash and burn in a gigantic ball of orange jet fuel flames!

This was the second hardest landing I can remember having in hundreds of flights I've taken in my lifetime.  

The worst was Frankfurt Germany in 2008, when we touched !? down sideways, and bounced into the air about 50 feet more than twice!  The group of nuns I was traveling with were clutching prayer beads and saying their Hail Mary's in fast motion! 



Speaking of Germany... 

I was gazing at the emergency card in the seat back pouch ahead of me in the Boeing 737-800, thinking while 37,000 feet up in a darkened sky, how similar this aircraft is to the first swept wing Messerschmidt ME 262 jet fighter of 1944.  

Willy M. designed a revolutionary aircraft of lightweight aluminum construction with a swept back wing, two pioneering turbojets, one under each. A top speed much higher than anything else of the day and at around 540 miles per hour, very similar to our current speed and the capability of flying at the altitudes we were presently at. 

Hmmm...

Not all my Mis Adventures happen on two wheels...

THAT'S right... I've been trying to get home now for 5 days. 



Much as I love the sunshine, the great weather, the riding opportunities, the home cooking, the cold beer after a day bouncing over rocks and riding up and down mountains, yes as much as I thought originally buying this little oasis, imagined myself spending winters here, with maybe the occasional foray into Baja, the reality is, boy meets girl, girl has school age daughter, boy gets married, boy spends time south, but... boy lives north.

It's easy to forget temporarily when wandering around in a T-Shirt and shorts much of the time, that seeing 20 on the thermometer is much different than seeing minus 20! 

Earlier in the week catching the news and hearing from home, there existed the very possibility I couldn't make it in one go.  No problem leaving Phx but potential problem upon arrival in the snowy Great White North!  I got on the horn to West Jet and from our conversation, there existed the probability of getting storm stayed in Toronto.  In any event it didn't look good for getting to Charlottetown. 

I decided to exercise the option of a later flight just in case, and re-booked for the 15th, Thursday.

With weather advisories in effect for central and Eastern Canada I called ahead, checked flight status on websites and even before proceeding to the airport via Super Shuttle, I called one last time.

Upon arrival I immediately stopped at the WJ  counter and upon inquiry was told "there would be a 10 minute delay leaving due to de-icing the aircraft on the ramp in Toronto". 

Security was an absolute breeze I mean I just walked through with no one in front or behind me. In fact I was in a lineup of ONE, as in Moi!  

Finding seating at the gate, I kept an eye on the departure schedule and even when the aircraft was posted as 30 minutes delayed, I wasn't worried. Well until I got a text from Brenda informing me that the flight into C'Town scheduled for arrival at 26 minutes after midnight... had been cancelled!

I went to the csr (Charles, very helpful) at the gate and he checked telling me  

"no... it's certainly looking like a GO"

Before I left the counter I checked with Brenda again and yes it was posted on the C'T Airport website that it is definitely cancelled which about at that moment, Charles verifies!

Great, now what... I've booked out of the 'Otel Frank, my shuttle ride was gone and even though I can in all likelihood get into TO... I wasn't going anywhere from there!

I've spent many days and nights in the 'Center of the Universe' during my motorcycle dealer days and don't particularly like the city.  Nothing really, but certainly not as friendly as Phx or even LA for that matter.  I would be stranded there for maybe two days and nights.  Hotel budgets being what they are and with zero possibility of wandering around the Toronto Zoo, after exploring several options, none good... I settled on re-booking for the coming Sunday.  Hopefully and according to forecasts of 9 degrees on the plus side... I will make it home a week late. 

Judy came and grabbed me up from Terminal 4 and whisked us back through city traffic (freeway was clogged) in no time at all.  Helps to have a driver that knows the local road situation!



So after making myself an orange juice from my back yard orange tree, here I sit once again, at my little writing desk, the sun is shining, Boo is laying on my arm as I try to type this with many many corrections, and thinking... there are worse places on the planet to be stuck...

 ...than this one. 

Home is where you hang your helmet!

IT'S hard to believe that I have owned this little peace of tranquility down here in the US of A for almost 9 years now.  Exciting as it was to buy into a dream I'd had for a long time.  I've always had a fascination with the desert and oft times as I was passing by on my way to and from the Baja peninsula I would gaze in the direction of Phx and recall what a thrill is had been basing there in 1998 with the two XT 600's and Deb at her Mom's place in Surprise.



Some people love the terrain of Florida, , okay... others love the Rockies of Colorado, or the barren salt flats of UTAH, others have a hankering to go north, to the Arctic circle.  Fine, each to their own I say.  Me, I always enjoyed the drive from my former home in Calgary to my destination central AZ.

My place is pretty basic, I had few criteria when buying, but top of the list was being in an actual community, where working people lived rather than a gated community that I felt, well kind of trapped in.  I needed a place with 2 or more bedrooms, hopefully a little yard space where I could kick back reading a good book in the morning warmth, someplace I could park a bike or two, someplace I could feel at home.



I looked at over 40 places but this one met most of my criteria and bonus... it was move in ready.

I bought it, then went to Europe and motorcycled for 5 months. 

Two significant things happened upon my return. The first was coming down here in my Blazer with my long time buddy, Tommy G.  I can't mention his last name because he's likely under cover at the moment.

WHILE Tommy holed up in a hotel I slept on an air mattress in my new digs for the very first time!  It felt great.  Very nicely kept park, FIVE huge palms around the pool, and heat.  Yes heat!  While we went about buying a fridge and filling our faces at the Golden Corral, I knew I would love it here.  After a week or so, TG flew back to Canada for $97 taxes in, a happy man. 

The second significant event that fall was meeting Brenda.  I'll never forget seeing her for the first time on my way to my favorite Smitties restaurant.  I remember seeing this woman crossing the parking lot, thinking to myself, "Gosh that young woman is cute..."

Turned at she was also there for breakfast but the place was shuttered, sign gone windows papered over.  We had a chat, a little about Europe, where she has back packed some years before.  To say we hit it off would not be telling a fib!  When I told Tom and Ron and other long time friends some of them even women friends, they all told me I was NUTS.  To even think of changing my bachelor lifestyle, was unthinkable.  Like many things sometimes we just do and many times, that's what I have done.

Boo

So here I am getting ready to head (to my other) home, prepping the place, getting the laundry done, bikes stored, saying goodbyes to several local friends and of course little Boo, my faithful companion the last three years, and will soon be West Jetting northward bound.

Coco

While here I had several adventures, did my shopping and cleaning, visited more this time than any time previously with neighbor Judy, had a few brews (I only drink when in Mexico or here it seems) and ate, for while I am here I like to cook and I think I'm a pretty good cook.  I can whip up a fluffy flapjack or a double egg omelet or pretty much things I don't do much of at home.  The other home...

I love riding my scooter, I love Boo's company, I love the heat, I love the riding.  I love going to the Library and reading nearly every night. I even love doing my Blog!

Not sure how many more years I can come, but I will try and come as often as I can to explore as long as I can.

So... as I sit and wind down my stay, I am thankful, first to still be alive, grateful for the opportunity to do this.  I have a wife that doesn't tell me what to do with my free time, and I have my health still, after turning 60 a couple of years ago.

Not sure how many more years I can come, but I will try and come as often as I can to explore as long as I can.

So... as I sit and wind down my stay, I am thankful, first to still be alive, grateful for the opportunity to do this.  I have a wife that doesn't tell me what to do with my free time, and I have my health still, after turning 60 a couple of years ago.

More biking adventure to come... stay with me!

Pretty as a picture

Digging through my blog yesterday to view some information on my Ascot, and came across this photo taken two summers ago over looking the narrow entry connecting C'Town harbor to the Northumberland Strait.

Taken from Old Fort Amherst.

Is it humanly possible to "break your lips" ? Sorry, I don't have a photo for this.

THERE are times when I catch myself, for no apparent reason, grinning like the proverbial 'Cheshire cat'. 

I find myself on occasion with my lips spread so wide, it can't possibly be healthy for moi.

Sometimes it just happens when I turn out the light at night.  Other times I may have just seen or read something.

Yet other times I am riding my bike/scooter in traffic and I get the stupidest, widest, lip stretchingest grin, I feel like I've won the lottery, met Heather Locklear, and been told I can go back in time and do it all again, but this time knowing when to hold em and when to fold em!

I can't for the life of me explain it, but it just happens.  

Surely first officer Spock would raise an eyebrow at this spontaneous response to whatever stimuli happened to have triggered it.  To which I would say...  

"why does your eyebrow rise as it does Mr. Spock?"

This doesn't happen daily, perhaps not even weekly and it may be only once monthly, but when I get it... it seems like I am invincible, that I am the best lover on the planet (Earth not Vulcan) that I know how to make gold from tin, and that, at the exact moment... everything is right with the universe.

I don't actually remember the last time it happened and typically its a second or three, but I know for a fact it was at least once this trip.

When this phenomena takes place I have this amazing feeling of euphoria wash over me, it's like the absolute best feeling in my life.

Okay... so where were we?

Right I'm in Arizona, the weather is great and I'm having the time of my life, hey... maybe that's a good reason to grin, eh!

Not all 6 speeders are the same.

SOMETIMES I like to slow the pace down.  Think trials bike slow but a whole lot easier.  The other day, I dusted off the old 6 speed street bike that my daughter Holly rode when I moved us back to FM after the implosion of my marriage.  

Since those days the old bike sat in one corner or the other of the garage and maybe not surprisingly from a sentimental kind of guy, made the trip across the continent to my home down south.  I thought, hey, never know, maybe Anna and her Mom will come back here some day and having a bike she could ride would be fun. 






On one of my previous trips I replaced tubes and although the white wall tires are hard as a Crispy Crunch bar, they still do the job.  Finding replacement tires has proven to be somewhat difficult in a 24" size.  Not a problem if I'm looking at knobbies but street tires, well that's a different kettle of catfish.  The tire width is 1.25"  That's right, it's not a misprint, this is a misprint "diqlpdenj"



You see the bike I am talking about is operated by pedals!

The old girl still works surprisingly well proving that old stuff was pretty well built and shouldn't be thrown away just because it's old... and I'm not just talkin' bout bicycles here!

With the weather being quite fine, back pack on my back with a contingent of library books to return to the Glendale Public library and a few replacements to bring back with me... I set off down the back route.  It was a sunny Sunday about 21C almost perfect for a pedal.

I cross the busy Olive Avenue and enter the grounds of Glendale Community College, otherwise known as GCC.  There are no students about today, only a few people around.  I find a young guy sitting at one of the many outdoor seating areas reading a book, a small group of young Hispanic kids having some fun, a pair of lovers smooching in a shaded nook and then there's me.  I often come to the college grounds to have a coffee in the Student Union building or just to sit in a shaded spot and reflect on my life or some such nonsense!

I bike across the entire campus which I might add is invitingly beautiful in a inspiring sort of way.  Indeed one of the reasons I bought here was the close proximity to the campus.  My original intention way back then, was to come live for the winter and take some creative writing courses.  As a resident, my course costs are about 1/4 what an out of state student would pay.  There some perks of owning my own digs.

Alas, that's never happened.  First their was my busy period between December and May as a financial adviser and then their was Brenda... and Anna.  Maybe some time in the future as yet unseen, right!




The campus is surrounded by vast parking lots but today they are quiet and empty except for an orange pylon corner with of all things motorcycles going round in circles and shifting gears and concentrating.



Memories or my many years teaching the Canada Safety Council program both out west and east, flood into my mind. Those are some of the VERY best memories of my life.  If it's anything on this planet I will be remembered for it will be my lifelong enjoyment of motorcycling.  One can have worse legacies after all.  I take a few snaps, manage to catch one of the instructors nearby and ask him if this is an MSF* program. 



He nods and says it is.  I ask him how long he's been teaching, he answers, '9 years'.  I ask if the name Peter Fasnacht sounds familiar and he shakes his heads.  What a shame.  You see Peter was one of the handful of individuals that began training courses in Canada and in fact the world.  He was my personal instructor at the Chief Instructors course during a cold February winters week in Ottawa. 



For decades after being hired to set up and build a US program, he diligently worked at establishing this program I was looking at. 



Not wanting to distract him any longer, I made my way out of the lot and onto the Saguaro Historic Ranch.  I often come and sit soaking up the sun or shade as required.  I cross the grounds and enter the library from the ranch gate.

 

I have a Glendale membership and as again, a home owner, I get a card for free!  Now that I don't own a TV, I spend many nights reading before bed time (and doing blogs of course) 



It's not particularly busy today I drop my books and pick a hand full of new reads and mounted on my 6 speeder once again, head home.

Another great day. 

*Motorcycle Safety Foundation

ps  Since I did this ride, I found by accident a pedal bike shop in Peoria and guess what... in the storage room covered in dust he finds me 1 each... 1.25" and 1.375" street tires.  He's likely had them since the turn of the century but they seem supple enough and next year I will en-devour

to get out more on the many bike paths and residential areas.

Why don't you ride a real dirt bike...?

WHEN I'm out in the back country, maybe by a Jeep driver or gas jockey, I'm sometimes asked that question "why I don't ride a real dirt bike?"




Sure having a lightweight KTM 200 or maybe a Husaberg or even a WR 450 or similar would in some cases be better.  When I was racing mx back when the polar ice caps were still growing... I raced what I felt I could do well with.  I raced Green machines, yellow ones, red ones, blue ones and half a dozen more besides.  I picked the bike that I felt comfortable with, and that appealed to me.

Riding around in the AZ desert or even the Baja desert alone for the most part, I need something with adequate suspension preferably a little soft, something with torque not horsepower, low enough to the ground that I could put at least one toe on the surface and with enough fuel range to get me there and back with some reserve.  

The places this little bike has been...

Some of my best trail rides have been on my XT 225.  Light, decent power with a 6 speed gearbox, fairly low and, did I mention light?  When I fall down as I inevitably do once or thrice a season it's usually because I can't get a foot down and like Paul said... "T I M B E R" over I go.  

BACK WOODS pei

Times like that, it can be a challenge getting the bike off the ground.  

Two instances come right to mind; on the climb to Mike's Sky Ranch, throttle pinned in 2nd gear, I churned my XT 600 up a sandy side-hill a distance of about 200 yards in axle deep shifting sand and seemingly no bottom.  Deb following wasn't as fortunate and tipped over towards the low side, on the uphill.  I had no idea, it was enough for me at the time to keep momentum uphill.  

BAJA veteran XT 600

Once on solid ground I saw her trying to lift up a fully laden 350 pound motorcycle.  I walked back about half the distance and indeed both of us had a struggle lifting the big blue bike upright.  We had the advantage of only having to lift it 70 degrees and not 90 but the lack of a solid bottom made it quite a chore.  


The other happened 2 year ago on my way across the 5 miles of no mans land between the Upper French Creek rd and the bottom of the Wagoner loop road. The trail (that had defeated me twice before) dropped into yet another dry riverbed full of basketball sized boulders and narrow to boot.  As I bounced my way over the rocks I ended up with the front wheel jammed sideways and in an instant I stalled and tipped over, smacking my shoulder and head into one of the rocks on the way down.  So here I am, fuel leaking out of the carburetor overflow tube with me wedged under the bike.  Only thing that kept it from pinning me was the soft sided saddlebag behind my thigh.

It took a few minutes to wiggle out of there, but I needed all my technique (and it is a technique) to lift the bike from past horizontal onto its wheels.  Between moving boulders and butter soft sand it was almost too much.  In fact when I did get it raised... I overbalanced and went right on over, falling across the bike at the same time!




By the time I got the bike up and re-started and out of the wash to a shaded location, I was about ready to melt.  It's times like these I tend to gulp water (not a good thing, should always ration) With gear and helmet off, I just sat there on a rock and composed myself for at least 20 minutes until my heart rate returned to some semblance of normal.

The reason I don't ride a pure dirt-bike is height (have you noticed how tall some of those buggers are?) fuel tank range and most of all... I can ride the Wagoner road from the streets of Peoria right to highway 87 and on into Prescott!

Can't do that with your motocross-er! 

This was relatively easy, that's my 350 waaay up the hill!  CK trail.

ANYWAY, when I bought my place in Phx and went shopping first for a

scooter which I affectionately call my 'mule' and then a dual purpose bike, I had some particular parameters in my mind.  It had to be legal for both street and trail, simple, air cooled, preferably both electric and kick start... again preferably with a 6 speed gear box, light and most of all reliable. That left out 99% of the models made over the years.  I knew the Yamaha line very well having been a dealer for many years but the only thing that came close was the XT 350 series.  Suzuki had a very similar bike, also four cycle and a few models came with both electric and manual starting but they were never real popular (don't know why it was a great bike)  The Yamaha Trailway also offered much of what I was looking for but at only 199 cc, simply not powerful enough to travel highways.

YOU could count on one hand how many bikes fit that bill!

I chose the 350 Yammie based on that criteria.  It doesn't have an electric leg, a minus, but it did have a 6 speed tranny and had been in production many years, a plus.  There have been many times I wished I had a button on the right control pod, but alas, no such luck.  

Occasionally when the engine goes 'pituie' at a red light, I have to balance on my left toe and kick her back to life.  Fortunately she is pretty easy to start being equipped with a kick-start activated compression release.  It's easiest when I can stand on the foot-peg while the bike is leaned over on her side stand and put enough oomph into the kick to roll the engine over fast enough to light!



Anyway... I digress.  The Yamaha does many things well, nothing spectacular, but has carried me into, and more importantly, out of some pretty sketchy places in the 6 years she's made her home at my home.

... and that is why I don't ride a real dirtbike!