Blog: My Heart Is A Motorcycle

Well, I'm finally doing it... sharing my blog here with the entire VFRWorld. I have wanted to write a blog for a very long time, but somehow only just started it in the last couple weeks. I've been getting some good readership and comments both on the blog and on Facebook where I also share it, as well as privately. So, at the risk of being BadBilly-fied (I'm sure he will be hilarious and wrong as always), I decided to share it here. I will also try to remember to post on this thread periodically when I've posted new entries.

The main point of the blog is talking about my experiences on motorcycles, but it is also about the metaphorical motorcycle of our journey through life, so there may be some entries that have nothing to do with motorcycles but more about a different kind of journey... so far most of the entries are about my early days of learning to ride back in the late 90s, and I will continue along that thread until getting up to date. I will also have entries about current riding experiences and current events. It is very simple now, but if I find I actually keep up with it and continue to have things to write about, I will most likely move it to a better platform where I can have more freedom with formatting and stuff... blogspot is pretty limited.

Just a reminder... it is a blog, so it is best to start from the oldest entry (the bottom) and read backwards or up... I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. It sure will take you alot less time to read it than it takes me to write!! And, I'd love to hear any feedback or comments you have whether here on this thread or in the comments on the blog... thanks for reading!!

My Heart Is A Motorcycle

 

What I would like to see blogged is a re-hash of all those insurance scams you pulled, the tickets you said you got fixed and your exact text at the ton. What I observe is that what we have here is a person who is riding way over her head .

and now to the metaphorical... Chicky and BB are out in the ocean on a boat fishing. A darkness appears in the sky obscuring the sun. "Que pasa" says Chicky. "Not to worry" says BB, it is only the Foo Bird; all will pass.

The Foo Bird having no sphincter proceeds to dump on both Chicky and BB. "OMG" says Chicky, whatever shall we do BB, and not waiting for a reponse jumps overboard and is consumed by a Great White Shark.

BB survives to fish another day and becomes an advocate of " When the Foo shits, wear it."

 

There are a few new posts on the blog if you care to read. Some motorcycle related... some not... I hope you enjoy my adventures!!

My Heart Is A Motorcycle

 

Adventure is the name of the game and riding would be pretty boring without stories and people to share them with.

I found your comments about your first freeway ride very interesting. I honestly can't remember any first rides like that. I guess my riding was so gradual from dirt, to back road neighborhood streets to full on riding that I just don't recall.

You have some good stories (although I did skim some of the posts so my comprehension score will not be very good.)

 

Jim,

The grasp on the language that you possess, perhaps an offering of your services as an editor would be " a good thing." Maybe more about bikes and less about going through dudes would be a good start.

I can see it now.. La Chica as Hunter S. Thompson and Big Jim as Ann Landers.

 

I can kind of see Chicky as a Gonzo female Hunter but why do I have to be Ann Landers, (even though I do have the legs for it)?

 

Truth be told your legs were the giveaway. Would you go for Dear Abby and make it a ménage a troi? I hear that since both are not above ground the new dude is a dude. No offense given.. The intent was maybe some editing cum counseling on the stream of dudes who have been shown how or shown the door according to La Chica.. I lost count.

Lots of quotes by HST. One of his best IMO:



We are motorcycle people; we walk tall and we laugh at whatever's funny. We shit on the chests of the Weird....

But when we ride very fast motorcycles, we ride with immaculate sanity. We might abuse a substance here and there, but only when it's right. The final measure of any rider's skill is the inverse ratio of his preferred Traveling Speed to the number of bad scars on his body. It is that simple: If you ride fast and crash, you are a bad rider. And if you are a bad rider, you should not ride motorcycles.

CW mag published this a few years back along with some other pithy quotes. Lots of the great unlettered were mightily offended.

 

Excerpt from "The Song of the Sausage Creature."

My favorite from Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas: "We can't stop here. This is bat country!"

 

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/e/eb/Batcycle.jpg


Holy guano Batperson, somebody just pooped on my bodice..

 

I'm glad you guys are enjoying reading my stories. Big Jim, many things I've done in my life have been me just throwing myself into the fire and figuring it out. Nothing gradual for me. You're lucky you started out in dirt. I wish I had. I now have a dual sport bike but... I really don't like riding much out here. Seems you can't go anywhere without hitting a ton of deep sand. I can ride in it but man, it really wears me out.

BB, Im sorry you wish I didn't have a love life. Unfortunately that's part of being a Chicky so if you read my blog you will be reading about some dudes now and then. If it makes you sad that I've been able to go through more dudes than you, maybe you shouldn't read it. I'd hate to think of you crying in loneliness while reading my stories...

 

Let us all observe a moment of silence and a short prayer that la chica will not quit her day gig and hang out a psychologist shingle in the next exciting episode of "Chicky Does a Dozen Dudes." or other psychic revelations.


What I really want to read about is more on how to get those traffic citations fixed and why anyone would ride with a pack of morons who insist on riding tandem not only to the nearest fast food joint but a whole bunch of miles. So far with the exception of that New Jersey version of pulled pork not much that couldn't be found in the romance book section of the local thrift store. Read one and you've read them all. Lots of fooling around and heavy breathing and in the end nobody gets any.

 

I said I started riding dirt. I didn't say I was ever any good at it.

 

When confronted with a ton of sand, we just used to text our way out.