Back Again...

See ya' in a few hours...

I wrote those words seven and a half months ago, fully intending to make good on them.

Oops.

Life, as they (whomever the heck that is) say, happens.

Since I wrote the above words I've buried some of my family and welcomed others. My term as Master of my Lodge has ended and I've gone on to focus on other parts of Masonry. Cut my hair, shaved my beard.

My beautiful old school bobber, softie, upon which I did the ride that is the majority of this blog, is gone. Sold.

Yeah, that one.

I now have gone down that road of no return and ride a "Geezer Glide" To wit: a 2011, FLHTK, ElectraGlide Ultra Limited.

Oh, it's purdy, got bells, whistles, gegaws and whatchamacallits all over it. It's perfect for what I'm doin' now... but I still miss my baby everyday.

But, see, part of that seven months or so that the blog was dark was that when Bear (Grand Director of the Club) and Glo-Joe came by on their ride they asked me to take on California as State Captain. It's a big State and the best way to get around is Freeways. The Geezer is perfect for that. Runs those big roads like it owns 'em. Heck, it'll out corner the old softie all day long. Got cruise control, ABS, stereo, GPS and enough baggage room that I can (and do) go grocery shopping on it. Got a big ol' 103 Cubic Inch engine and with the Vance and Hines headers and Reinhardt mufflers it sounds like it. Heck, it's got heated hand grips fer goodness sakes!

I've already got 10,000 miles on it -- and that was over the winter.

Oh, I love it, but until today, actually, I never felt close to it like I did the softie. Bikers are weird suckers -- we have a relationship with our 'scoots that a non-biker just can't understand. Just today, after all those miles, it struck me for the first time: this is my 'scoot and I'm real fond of it. More importantly: I trust it.

For those of you that ride -- that's the big one, ain't it?

So anyway, I'm back for whatever that's worth.

Got another run coming up -- our annual "Run To the Sun" for the Club. Brothers from all over get together in Tombstone, Kingman and Oatman (yeah, the donkey place) AZ to hang out for a totally outrageous time. Headin' out with my Brother Pablito, President of our Santa Maria Charter, on Friday to make the run to Tombstone and meet up with the Brothers from the East. The rest of California will join us in Kingman. Thought this particular "Goat Rope" (as we call it) might be worth a blog or two. It's my excuse to start writing again. Got to trick m'self into it ya'see.

When I was back in my old hometown, burying my Uncle Bud, I had the enormous pleasure of seeing Slats' little sister, Mary. She and Deb (my little sister) are still, after all these years, best friends. She said to me: "Tim told me to ask you how long he was going to have to wait for the next installment of the blog". "Forty years, I guess" was my reply.

Hell, Slats, as with the opening of this post, wrong again, huh?

Some things never change.