Moorhead, MN, and North Dakota floods 2009 slideshow

Click on the title below to watch the YouTube slideshow.

"If it keeps on raining,snowing the levee's going to break."

My next planned route for getting lost, I never follow these, it's just a guide line for what's out there next~


View Larger Map

Back in the Saddle again...almost.

Don't be afraid to click on the pictures so you can get a better view, they are really cool enlarged!

Hey y'all...
All right, I didn't take the putor to the putor doc...cuz, well...I have to either have my own money (which I don't right now,) or I have to ask Jeff if we can afford it this week. We can't really afford it, cuz my bike needs some work and is in the shop...

But, Jeff...He's such a handy guy, and patient as hell, gets on the putor, and works on the stuff I tried a few times. He stays with it for about an hour...and gets the putor to find a way around the blockage.



It won't last forever, but it will keep me going until I can afford to get things fixed. I have sent this document to a computer at the library to ensure it can be scanned for dangerous bugs...if you see it printed out here, than the equipment at the library says it's clean....



I think I might of said something to you guys about a month ago about the saddle bags I ordered. They arrived last week, and I did get them mounted onto the bike.



Not a huge feat by the way...I don't go for those bags that have bracing mounts attached to the fender and make their way down to the axle...it ruins the clean looks of my bike...and it's just not for me. I don't care how well they protect the leather from wearing and becoming misshapen.



Now, I need to tell you guys...when I saw these bags, I suspected they were not actually made for motorcycle use. See the D rings on the front of the bag?



A huge giveaway that this set is made for a horse and saddle rig...rather than a fender and wheels. All the same, it is what I have been looking for. I know I will have to take these to a leather worker here in the Tri-State area to get beefed up to fight the elements and to attach properly to my bike...but to have the look I've been searching for (almost 2 years now,) makes it worth while. Not to mention, the price of the bags didn't set me back too badly, and still won't after having them beefed.





So here are the bags on the bike before I took the bike in for the work that needs done. Also, included will be a few pics of the slight damage done to the rear turn signal...won't be hard to spot!







By the way, it's been raining here since Weds. It's now Friday, and the weather prognosticators are saying there will be a cold front here late today, with frost in the morning on Sunday. Spring might be here, but it's not warm enough yet, nor is it dry enough to give me a week long smile...you know the kind...it almost looks like the smile of a quite satisfying love making session...but somehow, if you look closely into the eyes of the affected person, you know it wasn't a great lover who made them daffy like that...it's the "other"...


Photo credits: 1,4,5,6,7,8,9 by Chessie
2. "John" @ flickr
3. Ratkimo @flickr

Lost in Cyber Space

Hey y'all, I'm really sorry for not having a new page for you to read today. It appears my PC has taken ill with a nasty virus. So until I get it repaired...or my old one cleaned...(it too is down with a virus) I will have to regale you with links to some of my work posted in BikerNet.com

Check out this latest one: http://www.bikernet.com/events/PageViewer.asp?PageID=2602You'll notice, it's a continuation of the blog from two weeks ago with VA. and Departure Bike Works Swap Meet.

I will also be posting a link on an older article I did for them...later on, depends how long it takes for the guy to get to my PC and clean it....

So for now guys and gals...until I can get at my pics and my Word Program, please enjoy these links to bikerNet.com

Chessie

Fargo, ND flood

I must apologize to those of you whose blogs I regularly read and comment on, and apologize for lack of posting. I've been swamped with work as of late, and been working 12-13 hour days away from home. For those of you who don't know, I am an insurance adjuster. I've been away at Fargo, ND, and outlying suburbs handling claims for flooding. The Red River is Fargo's main concern right now, although other rivers, ditches, and just about anything that could flood here has. The Red River is now being estimated to crest at 43 feet. If this happens, and they don't get the dikes built high enough, fast enough, the whole city of Fargo will potentially flood. The dikes were only going to be able to handle 41 feet. Thank God for the fact that Fargo has three colleges around, and almost all of the students pitched in to lend a hand for several days sand bagging, and building up the dikes. There has been help from all over the country helping sand bagging. It is truly amazing what people will do for each other. Regarding sand bags, some trivia for you...From what I'm told, it takes approximately 70 sand bags to raise the dike one foot, and that is only for one foot of width. This is due to the pyramid effect of the sand bag dike construction. That my friends is a lot of friggin sand bags. Right now, I'm dealing with flooded basements, failing sump pumps, and sewage back up claims, not whole flooded houses. Hopefully I won't have to deal with whole flooded houses. I hope it doesn't go there. The flood waters are right up to the road sides in many areas, and fields look like the great lakes. Furthermore to insult to injury, we just had a blizzard two days ago, and it has snowed almost continually since then. Only the main roads are getting any plow service, as they have the city crews concentrating on building and maintaining dikes, not plowing streets. This makes for some awfully slow going, and the roads are slippery with compacted snow turned into ice. If you slide off the road, in many areas, you're going to go right into cold flood waters. I saw a truck in a flooded ditch yesterday. I've seen flooded tractors, and all kinds of things like it here. Then to top it all off, there are closed roads that are under water all over. The detouring you have to do to get around here, on top of the poor road conditions, is making the claims handling process go very slow. There are some areas with claims that we can't even get to until the water recedes. Oh yeah, don't forget about the fact that more snow, means more melt off to help feed the river. It's been really cold, so hopes are it stays this way until the river recedes a bit, and then melts SLOWLY. One problem they are having with the cold though is that frozen sand is not as water tight as wet soft sand. They dikes are leaking in some areas due to this. There was also an ice flow that damaged part of one of the dikes that needed repair. All in all this is just plain NOT GOOD!

I'm getting excited that I get to go home this weekend to see my family. But I am behind on home life in general, so no chance to get caught up on the internet.

I miss all of you, my internet buddies. I look forward to getting caught up, "someday". I'm on call to go back up to Fargo, and handle claims again depending on volume. I pray for the folks here that I don't have to come back to handle a total city flood.

When I get a chance, I'll try to post some pictures. I've got some really cool ones.

TTFN

A Biker, A Baker, A Candlestick Maker...Or it's SPRING!

Biker, Baker, Candle Stick Maker….



What’s in a personal type of identification anyway? How is it we learn to identify ourselves as a member of this societal grouping or that one? Why is it important to us and our feeling of well being?



Hell I don’t know, when I was in college, I thought to explore these questions once. I never got very far on those questions after I discovered in my Sociology class that this kind of inquiry had been explored by others before me. I’ve read their findings and thought them to be full of shit, so, I guess it’s an easy question to ask, harder to answer, and impossible to understand why the human race even needs to classify who we are, what we do, and where we do it at…in order to accommodate a feeling of well being among ourselves.



All I know, is I’m a biker. I used to be this kind of biker; back in the day…I was about 12 when those days ended.



When I was 14, I became one of these kinds of biker. Cute huh?



Today however, I’m still a biker, just harder to define. This is me today. It’s cold outside, and I’m covered from head to toe, ready to do battle with Sir Winter. Each year, he forces me to encase my body in more armor to protect myself from his attacks to my joints, mind and body in general.



I don’t think I’m winning the war the old fashioned way. Perhaps I should give in and start using more technology against this foe who never seems to tire in strength, grow old, or weary of beating me up to a near frozen death. I’ve been fighting the heated throttle, heated seat, wind shield, electric vests, socks, new techno fabrics that somehow keep you warm at below freezing temperatures. I still don’t own any of those things, in fact even my gloves are the old standards that were around about the same time as say the Knights of Mid Evil times. Only they aren’t made of steel.



I’m a throwback of what I remember as easier times. At least that’s what I tell myself, and others who ask me “WHY?” Its way too none of your business, that I…as a journalist can’t earn enough money to afford those kinds of benefits. You know how most biker journalists get those cool things? They are asked to write a review on the product. So the manufacturer gives them the product to install, wear, what ever…in order to get a glowing report from the journalist. We pimp ourselves out like your basic street corner whore. I used to do this from time to time, but I’ve discovered I don’t like myself after I’ve done it.



So these days, I really don’t get asked to review too much anymore. I kind of regret it when I see pictures like these of myself!

Ahhh, but you know what? I don’t have to worry about it for about six months or so! It’s spring! The clocks have all sprung forward,
the bulbous plants have bloomed around here, and some have started to fade already…still waiting for the tulips though…



it’s getting warmer everyday…I think I’ve seen the last of the single digit numbers for at least six months! So away go the thoughts that plague me during winter, away go the feelings of wistfulness regarding warmth. I get to ride through the forests and watch as the invisible and industrious elves of the woodland dress the trees in buds of glory…I get to watch the young nubile leaves come out and dance in the dappled light of spring. I watch as they mature into their preteens, a wild and undulating dance unleashes their bodies as they salsa in breezes too light or too high for us mere earth bound humans to feel or comprehend their joy of life. Don’t you love spring?



I’ll let you know what I think about summer as soon as it comes around…right now, I’m too busy admiring spring!



Editors’ note: Most all the journalists I know who do this pick and choose the products carefully...so they are not forced to write things that go against the grain of their nature and feelings regarding the product. NOT ALL JOURNALISTS WILL SAY GOOD THINGS ABOUT A PRODUCT THEY ABHOR!

(photos 1. Chessie
2. Army Arch
3. Jake Perks
4. Chessie
5. Chessie
6. Extra medium
7. Candy trash
8. Unknown
9. Jeff Kubina
10. Mr. La Rue
11. Bobesh
12. Whisperbee
13. Edward Dullard

Indian Motorcycle Trademark Dispute

I found this wonderful paper on the internet about Indian Motorcycles. To be more precise, the paper is about a trademark dispute with Indian Motorcycles dead center in the haula-ballooo.

I'm not going to get into the history of Indian Motorcycles, other than to tell you they were the first American motorcycle company. They became a company in 1901, a full two years before Harley Davidson. During World War II, Indian retooled their plants in order to support the war effort. Once the war ended, Indian had a hard time recovering from this action. Retooling is an expensive endeavor, and doing it twice put Indian out of business in 1953.

Between 1953 and 1995, according to this paper I found: there were many attempts to revive the Indian Motorcycle Company. All of them failed, dogged by legal disputes and fraud allegations. By 1995, there were so many lawsuits regarding the Indian name and trademarks, that a Federal Judge ordered a consolidation of the suits into a Federal Receivership. This judge must have been pretty astute, because he realized something no-one had for over 5 years. He noticed there were no Native Americans named in these law suits.

You see, it appears, that as of 1990, a law was put into place to protect Native Americans and their rights as a nation to protect their arts and their image. Specifically, the 1990 Indian Arts and Crafts Act prohibits "offering for sale or selling any product in a manner that falsely suggests that it is an Indian product."

So, when a product is labeled as being Indian, or Indian made…it had darn sure better be. That means, the maker of the product has to be a member of a recognized Indian tribe.

OK, this is where things get confusing for me. I'm no legal genius. In fact, I'm not a genius by any stretch of my imagination. (No illusions of grandeur haunt this writer!) This is where the guy who is trying to re-open the doors of Indian decides to circumvent this issue of the Indian Arts and Crafts Act, by seeking an Indian Nation willing to involve it's self in this legal action by investing their monies into the development and manufacture of the new Indian Motorcycle on their native land. So Rick Block, (the receiver of Indian in the law suit) and the Cow Creek Band of Umpqua Tribe of Indians, located in Southwest Oregon entered into a business agreement together.

If I read the paper correctly, Cow Creek hires James Parker, a well respected motorcycle designer and Roush Industries, headed by Nascar team owner Jack Roush, of Michigan. Parker designed the overall style, while Roush and his teamed developed the V-Twin engine that would serve as the Indian power plant.

By 1998, the Cow Creek syndicate had a prototype to show the world. They had set a date for November 1998 to proudly unveil their craftsmanship to the world. But, as happens too often in the experience of the Native American community, the unveiling was laid barren by the actions of their own partner, Rick Block. Mr. Block obtained a restraining order, disallowing the tribe to display the prototype or any pictures of it. In order for Block to achieve this action, he claimed the Cows had failed in their contractual obligations by failing to meet a financial deadline. The writer of this paper I'm using for information states this was untrue, and that the Cow Nation had indeed met every deadline with their financial obligation.

In 1999, Rick Block sold his interest in Indian Motorcycle Company to a Canadian apparel company, operating as a Delaware Corporation. The Indian Motorcycle Company was then handed over to an affiliate known as California Motorcycle Company. This company quickly started turning out what was and still is considered to be Harley clones bearing the Indian trademark. Now here is where I get all confused again. The writer of the paper I'm studying seems to be stating that Rick Block sold the Indian Motorcycle Company for much less than what the Cow Indian Nation was willing to pay for the company. So why would he sell out the Indians for a lesser price than what they would be willing to pay for the company? Well, because Block "has now started a competing motorcycle venture, in conjunction with the former president of "Indian" Motorcycle Company of America as he continues to act as receiver for "Indian."

Here is one more little known fact for the history and legal buffs surrounding the Indian Motorcycle. "In 1998, Cow Creek, Rick Block, Sterling Consulting Corp., the receiver; and Steven Rodolakis, the trustee for the bankruptcy estates, entered into a legally binding agreement known as the Trademark Facilitation Agreement." (1)

"The TFA would have provided substantial benefits to the Cow Creek tribe, other tribes, Native American organizations and enterprises. These benefits would have been in the form of royalty payments, preferential licensing rights and production rights. The TFA would have put nearly 50 percent of licensing fees, some $7 million per year, back into Indian Country." (2)

"The TFA was binding on the receiver, Rick Block, Sterling Consulting Corporation, and whoever was the ultimate purchaser of the Indian trademarks, specifically, "Indian" Motorcycle Company of America." (3)

But according to the document I'm using for information, the Indian Company instead of adhering to their commitment with the TFA, have created what they call a Native American public relations department. The Indian Motor Company has named it "Office of Indian Affairs". You remember watching F Troop? They have obviously grabbed the name of the Government office Bureau of Indian Affairs. I mention F Troop because I really feel as though the Indian Company is trying to hood wink the Native Americans with this ploy, and it's insulting…not comical.

Indian Motorcycle Company, through its public relations board, has passed out a couple of thousand of dollars in scholarships and grants to Native Americans. The Cow Creek nation contends that the Native American is being used, and that the IACA and the TFA agreements have been breached and violated.

At the time I am writing this, I have not been able to find if this issue has been resolved by the current owners of Indian Motorcycle Company. I'll keep looking, and I will keep you abreast of my findings. I'm not sure what to make of everything I've just described to you…I would really like to see court documents and have them explained to me by someone I trust…but for now, I will have to relay on what I can find via the internet…

I do hope all that has transpired with the Cow Creek Indians hasn't been on the watch of the current Indian Motorcycle Companies CEO watch. I do admire this company, and I don't want to see its name tarnished by greed.

Oh, by the way, I remember Rick Block from when his American Motorcycle Company merged with American Quantum Cycles and bankrupted them...this guy is a sleaze from the word go...and is no longer associated with the current Indian Motorcycle Company.

 

Footnotes (1), (2), (3)...see link in headline for information.

Gibson-Les Paul Guitars Honors Indian Motorcycle Company

Someone made mention of combining a motorcycle and a Gibson guitar yesterday, and asked for comments, I was on a social networking site. I went on the web, and inputted Les Paul, Motorcycles and the search engine came back with this:

 

She's a beauty isn't she? In 2002 Gibson honored the new Indian Motorcycle Company with a custom Les Paul-Gibson guitar of their own. The Art and Historic Division of the Gibson Company took a close look at the celebrated and renowned lines of the classic Indian Chief. Taking the Logo that rests on the tin of the old time Indian Chief Motorcycle, the War Bonnet and placed it on the body of the Gibson Guitar. Now we have this beautiful symbolic chrome piece to grab the eyes of the beholder and rivet them on this spectacular guitar.



This special edition of Indian Motorcycle Memorabilia was issued in six custom color combinations, including a red/black metallic scheme reminiscent of the first Chiefs produced in the 1920s.

The Les Paul-Gibson Guitar Company realized this was to be a collector's item, and so in true form of the collector's creed, issued along with the guitar a custom-made lacquered display wall cabinet, leatherette case with chrome hardware, Indian Motorcycle Concho strap, and Certificate of Authenticity.



In another effort to enhance the guitar's collectability the company also embedded mother of pearl lettering into the fingerboard, in the same script design as the fabled motorcycle company's copy write name. Now add in the slim chrome molding that swipes through the body, separating the bi-color scheme of the guitar, and you have yourself one heck of a beautiful looking guitar. But…how does she sound?

According to a press document I found put out by Gibson: "Kenny Olson, lead guitarist for Kid Rock and aficionado of classic motorcycles, played the new Les Paul Indian guitar on the mtvICON:Aerosmith show and was impressed with its performance. 'It sounded like a seasoned Les Paul, with a fat bottom end and bright, perky highs,' Olson says. 'There's nothing like it, it's a beautiful piece of art. I was glad to be a part of it. I got a lot of phone calls after the show, telling me how cool it looked and how great it sounded.' Well if Kenny likes it….

With only 100 of these Gibson made to order guitars produced, it comes as no surprise to me…nor should it to you. I found one yesterday on Craig's List, in Florida for the ungodly selling price of $4500.00, and this guitar did not come with the original case. It also (I suspect) will not come with the documentation of authenticity… but I don't think that's affecting the price any…how about you?

That about does it for today's session, I hope you have enjoyed looking at this piece of history as much as I have enjoyed discovering it for myself!

Now I'll leave you with a YouTube tour guide of a couple of Burt Monroe's famous motorcycles....

AN IRISH BLONDE IN A CASINO

Sorry this one is so late on St. Patty's day, but just had my first chance to sit at the computer today at 8:30 P.M. Central.

Anyway, I just got this emailed joke, and thought I would share.

Enjoy!


An attractive blonde from Cork , Ireland arrived at the casino.. She seemed a little intoxicated and bet twenty-thousand Euros on a single roll of the dice.
She said, I hope you don't mind, but I feel much luckier when I'm completely nude.

With that, she stripped from the neck down, rolled the dice and with an Irish brogue yelled, Come on, baby, Mama needs new clothes!
As the dice came to a stop, she jumped up and down and squealed...YES! YES! I WON, I WON!

She hugged each of the dealers and then picked up her winnings and her clothes and quickly departed.

The dealers stared at each other dumbfounded.
Finally, one of them asked, 'What did she roll?
The other answered,
'I don't know - I thought you were watching.

MORAL OF THE STORY -

Not all Irish are drunks,
not all blondes are dumb,
but all men...are men.

Cystic Fibrosis Run

If you are in the Upper East portion of Kansas, or Lower East portion of Nebraska, or Upper West Missouri, then this is the run for you.

Please click on image below to enlarge if you are interested.

Finally after all this time, the puzzle is complete!

Back on April 29th, 2008, I did a post called Motorcycle Puzzle has whole family puzzled.

Motorcycle Scramble Squares not in order


My 13 year old daughter had a friend over this last weekend for a sleep over, and one of the things they accomplished was completing this puzzle that no one has done until now. We've had it for over two years.
I just had to post it for the record.

Motorcycle Scramble Squares in order!

I don’t think it’s FREEDOM…

Have you ever tried to describe what motorcycling means to you without using any of the tried and true descriptors? I have been. I've been thinking about it for several months now, perhaps even off and on for years, but as of late, it's been on my mind a lot lately.

Over the years, I've seen these statements, "I ride because of the freedom motorcycling extends to me." Or other kinds of really stupid statements. I don't actually believe I'm any more free of anything while on my motorcycle, than I am while in a car. How can I feel that way? I'm confined to a conveyance that moves me along the ground, and it really don't make a hoot of difference that I'm moving on an open aired two wheeled machine, or in an open topped convertible, I just don't believe the feeling I'm thinking of is "FREEDOM".

Fact is I often feel less free than while in a car. Here's the reason why: riding a motorcycle has many inherent dangers. Because of these dangers, I'm constantly on alert. So where is my freedom in that? Is the freedom in the wind blowing through my hair? Actually, I can get that by riding in a convertible car. Put the top down, and enjoy the breeze, so exactly…what is the freedom…can YOU describe it? Why do you call this feeling we get while on a motorcycle FREEDOM? I don't really get it. I don't feel free, I feel attached, I feel responsible, and I feel alone yet connected to something powerful. That isn't freedom…it's something else, but I don't know how to tell you what it is.

I no longer feel as if I'm an oddity among the throngs of commuters on the highway. How can I? There are thousands of female riders today and females are the largest growing group of new motorcycle owners. I'm glad for it, and sad at the same time, because now, motorcycles are everywhere, every size shape and example of two wheeled motorized propulsion is represented out here with a female rider. So no, I really don't feel like an oddity any more.

So, just what is this feeling I get inside when I'm on my bike? How does it truly affect me? How can I say it relaxes me when in fact, it excites me? What is it about throwing my leg over the saddle, plopping my butt down on the weatherized seat, reaching down between my legs to insert the key…tell me this…how is it that simply thinking of these actions excites me? How is when I think of these rituals I go through to start my bike, that I am both excited and clamed? How can that happen?

I've heard people say we riders of motorcycles are adrenaline junkies. OK, maybe at first, as we accumulate the hundreds of hours on our bikes, but really tell me, how do you call someone like me who has been riding for many, many years…an adrenaline junkie? I don't get that same thrilled feeling of fear any more. In fact, I'm filled with confidence in my abilities to avoid conflicts with other vehicles. Yes, of course, I understand there are unavoidable accidents that occur, but tell me the truth, haven't you been just as hurt while in an accident in a car, as you have on your bike? I have…so, does this make me an adrenaline junkie? Am I a true "risk taker"? I think not. No more so than your average driver. I just take on a slightly different set of risks when I climb on my motorcycle.

So what is it about my motorcycle that provides the benefits I reap from riding? What is it that supplies that wonderful feeling of well being once I'm fully underway? Is it mental, is it physical…is it a mixture of both? I suspect it is a mixture…but which came first…the mental or the physical aspects that cause the sensation of pure unadulterated pleasure? It is pleasure you know. It's almost as satisfying to me to ride a couple of hundred miles as it is to experience a very rollicking sensual sexual exploit with my partner. It takes longer to achieve that feeling of exhausted satisfaction while on the bike, but it lasts and stays with me longer as well. It's hard to beat that.

So just exactly how do I explain to someone what's going on when I ride? I don't try anymore, because there aren't any words that can fully express what goes on inside me when I'm riding. It's something more than any of the expressions people try to use to describe the ride…it can't be the same for everyone, because we all process experiences in a manner that is uniquely personal to individual.

So I don't try to describe why I ride, how it makes me feel, or why…I just look at them, grin that stupid grin one wears after a great sex escapade, and feel fully relaxed and satisfied for a time…until the next time I throw my leg over the seat, reach between my legs to insert the key…and start my routine for riding the bike…as my excitement both builds and fades….all at the same time, how do I really describe a feeling…?????

WHEELS THROUGH TIME 2009 KNUCKLEHEAD RAFFLE

WHEELS THROUGH TIME 2009 KNUCKLEHEAD RAFFLE-- This is a great offer for a worthwhile cause…. The 7th Annual Raffle will be held November 2009 For This 1947 Harley-Davidson FL-74in. Knucklehead Or $20,000.00



The Wheels Through Time Museum, a 501 (c) 3 not-for-profit corporation, will be conducting their 7th Annual Museum Raffle in November of 2009.

The annual event started seven years ago during the opening week of the museum in its newly relocated home in Maggie Valley, North Carolina. Raffle tickets are available now for a $10.00 donation for one or purchase 7 tickets for $50.00 and receive a free Wheels Through Time Museum T-Shirt. All proceeds from the raffle will be used to create new exhibits, enhance museum displays, and help keep us... "The Museum That Runs."

To purchase raffle ticket(s), mail your name, address, and good phone # to the below address, with appropriate payment amount and shirt size if applicable:
Wheels Through Time Museum Annual Raffle
P.O. Box 790
Maggie Valley, NC 28751

Or you can charge tickets online! If you are charging tickets online, you agree to have your entry information transferred by hand to a raffle ticket that will be added to the pot.

If you've purchased seven or more tickets you qualify for a free T-Shirt from the Wheels Through Time Museum. You will be asked one size on your order form. The T-Shirt(s) will be sent to the billing address unless a shipping address is specified.


(This article is reproduced from http://www.bikernet.com/news/newsarch.asp?Article=031309-3 )

Happy Friday the 13th all! As bikers we should all know about Lucky 13.

It's Friday, so lets talk FAT TUESDAY!


Or at least, Lets take a looksee at a funny Fat Tuesday Photo!

Spread the word

If you ride motorcycles, or are into motorcycles, please take the time to check out this blog. It is a definite keeper. Well worth the read.


Better Motorcycling

FaceBook

Say, Just what we bloggers need is one more thing to consume our time right?

Anyway, If you haven't noticed on my right side bar, you will see a "Find me on FaceBook" link. I just recently started F.B. for short. I've found lots of old friends from High school, etc, and lots of fellow bloggers as well.

I just had a fellow blogger ask me how to get the badge for his own blog.

Well, her's how:

Go to your FaceBook profile page. Scroll all the way down to the bottom of the page, and on the left hand side you should see "create a profile badge". Click on it and follow the steps. Select the one you want, and then you add it to your blog like any other HTML add on.

For those of you who have not signed up for the FaceBook Time/life sucker, I encourage you to do so.

Fishersville VA. Weekend Ride

In three days of riding, I just put 1,023 miles on the odometer of my bike.

On Saturday, March 8^th, the old girl and I set out for Fishersville, VA. First on my agenda was to arrive at my intended campsite, get the bike unloaded, my tent set up, and back on the road to explore Fishersville and Charlottesville. In order to accomplish this feat, I chose to ride the quick way up…on I-81 from Bristol. That's what I did for the most part; except for a small stretch where I just got so damn bored I thought to try US-11north.



Problematic, as it was slow going through all the small towns it ran through. I ended back on I-81 until I came to exit 132. Exit 132 was my planned stop over, Dixie Caverns and Campgrounds.



I decided on this stop for the price only. Eight dollars for primitive camping and included with it was the heated shower and toilet facilities. Comparable sites closer to where I was going…and that's if they were open to campers yet, was $22.00 a night. Hell, I like riding well enough, the hundred miles I was shy of my true destination for the next day (Fishersville, and a swap meet held by Departure Bike Works of Richmond VA.) should be a breeze….

Having unloaded my gear, put up my tent, blew up my air mattress, stowed my gear in the tent…well I suppose I was ready to go exploring. I again jumped onto I-81 north and rode the hundred miles to Fishersville. I was there in search of the Augusta Expo where the event was planned for the next day. On my way up there, I had decided to find Departure Bike Works, and have them take care of a niggling little problem that was driving me crazy. You guys remember I told you that my tail light assembly was loose and vibrating really bad? I still hadn't gotten it fixed. Now you also remember I just said that Departure was in Richmond? I hadn't realized that at the time I decided to go look for them…for some unknown reason, (beyond the fact I was born a blonde,) I had it in my head they were in Charlottesville. I ride to just outside Charlottesville on I-64, stop and give them a call, it's 4.30 PM and I wanted to find them, make sure they would still be there when I got in, and that they would fix my problem….WHOOA… I get Brenda on the phone from Departure…and she says to me… "Do you know where we are located at?" "Well…no, that's why I'm calling…to get directions from here…." Says I… "Chessie, we are in…." OK so you can guess how the rest of the short conversation went.


I got off at the next exit, and chose to get lost on some back roads. I found my way to Batesville, stopped at what was touted as a general store to get a bottle of water and some directions…whoa again sister, when I entered that "general store" what I found would have made me feel I was in some large city. This place was quite large, it was decorated to have a home town feel to it, but it also had computer ports, a bakery, a healthy sandwich shop, goodies that were out for tasting…I was wishing I had a laptop, I would have dragged it out plopped my butt right down and assaulted as many of the wonderful pastries as I could lay my hands on. To hell with a diet when your on vacation right? Ahhhh, no laptop, no stopping. Get your directions and get the hell outta there, as it is Chessie…your not getting back to your tent until after dusk.

Got back to my tent, lit a small campfire, drank a half gallon of water, took a really long hot shower to help ease the cramping muscles that are relearning how to ride for a distance…and head off to la la land….it's to be 40 degrees tonight, so I sleep in my very warm comfies…and dream of pastries all night long.

I'm up the next morning before 6AM. I wanted to get dressed and get outta there by 6. I also wanted to stay the night one more night, so I thought better than to crank up my bike at 6AM on a Sunday morning, I waited until 7AM. I once more jumped on I-81 north, making my way up to Fishersville and the Expo building. I pulled in behind a truck pulling a trailer loaded with bike parts. The parts were loaded up to the gunwales…I figured he was headed to the swap meet. I figured right. He led me right to the back door, I followed him in and found Brenda from Departure Bike Works, introducing myself to her, we got on friendly footing and I started making my way around the building visiting the vendors who had come and set up shop or were in the process of setting up shop.

According to Brenda there were to be about 25 vendors who had expressed a desire to attend. But by the end of registration, and the opening of the doors to the public, from my count there were 15.

OK…folks, I can't get into the rest of the story here…cuz I am selling this part to Bandit at BikerNet.com….but I just wanted y'all to know…there was a swap meet going on…and the people of VA. were attending!

I left outta Fishersville around noon. Heading southwest on Tinkling Springs Road, I'm off to explore the world. Tinkling Springs RD. will eventfully dump you off into Route 340, which I crossed and jumped onto SR 608 through a town known as Stuart's Draft. Over the railroad tracks and down the road just a tad, route 1530 becomes known to the traveler through road signs, it appears to be a great route, not mention, it heads off into a southwesterly direction, and that's just the way I was hankerin' to head off to. Locally I guess the road is known as Cold Springs Road, it has a few nice little curves in it, and some nice hilly countryside to look at when your not navigating the curves. In a few miles, it dumps you into US-11south, and I'm still heading in a tent-wardly direction. For those of you who don't know, US-11 is kinda like the East's version of Route 66. Before I-81 came along, US-11 was the main drag through VA. and because of this, you'll find some pretty cool and interesting sights along the way. Once your main road closes down, it's easy for the map makers to forget you exist, so these little towns come up with some ingenious ways of attracting attention.

There is on place known as Natural Bridge. I was getting pretty excited about seeing a site that provides a natural bridge…in fact I was willing to stop and pay to get in and see it up close, as well as soak in some history about the area. They pissed me off though. The road will take you right past the natural bridge, but they have walled it off with a very tall wood structure, thus preventing the passer-by from getting any kind of a gander at it all. Sorry little town of Natural Bridge. You lost me with that trick. I see nothing clever about blocking off a natural landmark from casual view. It struck me as being so unethical, I lost all desire to leave the road and see this piece of natural workmanship. I'm not sure, but I may have shot myself in the foot with that feeling…all the same, I felt as if I had been cheated of something…and I wasn't about to give in to their ransoming to see it.

Before you get to the town of Natural Bridge, you will come across a little junk yard on the left side of the road as you travel south. You will see a worn out sign high in the air advertising eggs and bacon…I saw that, and the junk yard, I had to turn around and get a picture of it. As I pulled off to the side of the road with my bike, an elderly man comes running spritely over. "Hell, young man" he yells at me, "you've stopped at the right place! I've owned 15 of those over the course of my lifetime…"



He walks over to me sitting on the side of the road…and continues to regale me with his stories. The old codger is 80 years young, has an 18 year old daughter who is just graduating high school and entering university…His first bike was 1933 Flatty….so he tells me. This guy is just too happy to have someone to listen to his tales of travel with his motorbikes. Listen is exactly what I did…he had some wonderful tales.

After leaving the old man, I head back south…and come across this place.

How weird is this?

Finally around Buchanan, I've had enough of all this, and jump on the Blue Ridge Highway. Talk about a scary 4 miles from Route 11 to the on ramp at the Blue Ridge? Good lord, I was thinking heavily about turning back, they used chipped shale to keep the road graveled during winter…and it was as slippery as gorilla snot. My shoulders, hands and teeth hurt by the time I got onto the Parkway…I just jumped on, headed south and breathed a huge stress relieving sigh. Soon I was enjoying the spine of the Blue Ridge Motorway…and it was beautiful…so beautiful.

I ended up getting off the Blue Ridge around Webster and started making my way back west toward I-81 and Route 11. Heading toward the city of Roanoke on Route 221, then switching to Route 460 West in the city of Roanoke, I soon make my way to Route 11 once more and the small town of Salem. It was in Salem I had to assume something wicked my way came. It became apparent to me that vehicles were staying too far back from my rear fender. Knowing that I was about to lose my tail light assembly…I figured that I finally had. I kept going, looking for an Auto Zone or something. Seeing one, I stopped, looked at my fender where my stop light assembly was…and seeing it was still there was a bit of a relief. What wasn't there, was my lens and light bulb. OK…this was much better than losing everything. Walking inside, the older guy behind the desk is a biker too. He helps fix me up…I have a nice red lens and a new 1157 bulb in the socket. I'll make it home the rest of the way with no problems. My tent site was only a mile away.

Pulling into my tent site, it was still daylight. I gathered an armful of wood for a fire that night, I drank about a gallon of water, I ate a hotdog with a small bag of chips (which I bought at the campground store) and relaxed.

Feeling quite pleased with myself, later I showered and was in bed by 8PM.

I slept well through the night awakening only twice, once because of a thunder storm passing overhead and the second time was a nature call. I visited the natural outhouse rather than making that dreaded trek to the shower house….it was quite a walk away, and my body was stiff as hell. I didn't want to get chilled, and I'm lazy cuss who doesn't mind peeing in the woods.

Getting up the next morning, I get myself dressed to ride. It's a bit cool this morning, weather says it won't be as warm today as yesterday…so I dress in layers. Good thing. It was a tad bit chilly my Florida thinned blood. I don't care how long you live outside of Florida, once you have had your blood thinned by the tropical heat, it's hard to get it thickened up again.

I pack up my stuff, bungee everything back on the bike and head south on Route 11 once more. I continue on 11until I get to Fort Chiswell in VA. At Fort Chiswell, I jump on Route 94 South until I come across Route 619 at Porter's Crossroads. Here I 619 west to Route 69 west…and keep on that till I hit US 21 South at Speedwell.

Wow, all I can say is…if y'all haven't taken this Route, you should. I took US-21 South to Route 58 west. It's all great riding, once you get on Route 58 west, it's designated as a scenic byway…and good lord is it ever!



The road has as many bent crooks in it as a knurled bent grandfather oak. It twists around this stream and up that mountain. It affords views of checkered farm lands and grazing animals


…or of acres of primal forests. Route 58 west is not to be ignored. One really needs to take this ride! I got pictures of dams,


of forests, of fertile valleys…and you don't need to worry about gas stations. While they aren't every ten miles along this route, they do come often enough to keep you fueled and ready to ride.

Soon, it was time to jump on Route 91 south into Tennessee and home.



I was happy to see the state line sign…I was happy to see Mountain City when it came up…I was happy to get myself onto Route 321 and into my home town of Elizabethton TN.

Soon, my driveway was in view, and I was putting my kickstand down for the last time that day. It was time for a reunion with my family…then a hot shower, and some dinner. I was in bed by 8PM. What a great weekend…with some wonderful miles under my ass!