Harley Bound, Heaven Bound

Experiencing Freedom This Easter

2011-04-24T22:06:00.008-04:00

I confess that the title of this blog is also the title of my pastor's sermon on this Easter Sunday, but it was so fitting that I had to use it. Often, I feel like I haven't been doing enough as a Christian, even though the Bible clearly says salvation cannot be earned ("For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast." Ephesians 2:8-9).

But, lately, I've come to realize more and more that Jesus loves me no matter what I do, or fail to do. Of course, I want to please Him, but He loves me (and all of us) unconditionally, which is why He chose to die on the cross for everyone.

This morning, my girlfriend Anna and I had hoped to attend a sunrise Easter service in another town, but it was cloudy and threatening to rain, so we decided to attend our regular church, which served a full breakfast before the service. The fellowship and worship were uplifting, but we were especially blessed by Pastor John Wheeler's sermon, What Can Jesus Set Me Free From? Well, four things: guilt over my past; worry about my future; purposeless living today; and, most importantly, having to earn my way to heaven.

By mid-morning, the skies cleared and it became very warm, in the 70s, so Anna and I chose to celebrate our freedom in Christ with a motorcyle ride. Annabelle, my Harley, started right up, and we headed south and then west to Connecticut, for one of our favorite roads, Route 49 through Sterling, Conn., a scenic farm road.

It was invigorating to see the trees beginning to bud and flower after a very long, snowy winter. I could smell fresh mulch. Bugs bounced off my face.

There was very little traffic around 2 p.m., since most people were probably sitting down for their Easter dinner (ours was not until 6:00). A good portion of the vehicles on the road were other motorcycles.

During, and after the ride, I reflected on the works God has done in my life since I accepted Jesus as Lord and Savior in 2008. I had a peace deep down that could come from nothing else but knowing Christ. Anna also experienced an intense feeling of peace today.

"I noticed a lot of praise and worship on my Facebook today," she said, "and not just from the regular Christians. The body (the church) lifted up the head (Christ), and it was a peaceful day."

Blowing the Dust Off

2011-04-10T21:05:00.008-04:00

Man, it's been a looong wait for the kickoff to this year's riding season. Back in February, the last time I posted on this blog, we'd been hammered with one serious snowfall after another, and it seemed like the white stuff would be on the ground until June. Okay, that's an exaggeration ... actually, the snow had disappeared by March, but then, I was waiting for a day that was at least partly sunny, and 60 degrees or better, before I would venture out. Oh, and that day had to be on a weekend, since my girlfriend Anna and I both work full-time (I was blessed to find a full-time job, which I started on March 1). Our New England weather has been stuck in a holding pattern the last few weeks, with most days reaching only into the 50s, so, I decided that today's forecasted high temperature in the mid-50s was close enough. That's right, time to ride ....

My 2002 Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide (nicknamed Annabelle), hadn't been started in four months. I never installed a Battery Tender trickle charger after I bought the bike, because it had started after the 2009/10 winter without one, so I figured it would be okay through another winter. Wrong. The starter cranked slowly, and then the starter solenoid just rattled. I took the seat off my bike, and asked my girlfriend to bring a set of jumper cables, but the owners of the house where I store the bike returned home a few minutes later and graciously produced a pair of jumper cables that got Annabelle's motor purring in a jiffy. After letting her idle for a few minutes, I shut the engine off to make sure it would restart, before I ventured out on the road. It restarted under its own power now. Lesson learned: a Battery Tender is a must-have.

I discovered a curious fact about my motorcycle. A factory quality control sticker on a wiring harness underneath my seat was dated 09/12/2001 - which is the day after the terrorist attack that downed the World Trade Center in New York City. Also, a mouse or mice apparently had taken shelter in my seat at some point in the past, as some shells of sunflower seeds fell out of the bottom of the seat as I lifted it off the bike. Fortunately, the wires seemed to be intact.

Anyhow, my girlfriend arrived at the garage shortly after I got the bike started. She couldn't wait to ride. My bike desperately needed a bath, but this "ice breaker" ride wasn't about showing off - it was about a revival of soul and machine.

Even the route or destination wasn't important. We headed south, riding through West Greenwich, Exeter, North Kingstown and South Kingstown, stopping for lunch in Wakefield. By then, my fingers had started to turn white and numb, even with insulated leather gloves (oddly enough, after I thawed them out under warm water, they didn't get numb for the ride home).

On the way home, we stopped at Summit General Store in Greene, R.I., which bills itself as "Rhode Island's Only Real General Store." Anna had wanted to take me there in the past, but had been unable to find it.

During our ride, we covered a little more than 80 miles and passed a fair number of motorcyclists, though nowhere near as many as we would have seen on a Sunday with temps in the 70s or 80s. Admittedly, 'ideal' riding weather hasn't arrived yet, and true fair-weather riders' bikes are still in hibernation, but I wasn't about to let another weekend go by without blowing the dust off my bike.

Waiting It Out

2011-02-02T16:14:00.002-05:00

I'm writing a quick blurb just to let readers know I'm still alive. My motorcycle blog has been very quiet the last couple months because, frankly, I've had very little to write about on that subject. My bike sits, thankfully, in a garage while we endure one snowstorm after another. Already we've had at least three major storms with 10-12" inches of snow, and a few moderate storms of 4-6", and it's only the beginning of February. There has been at least one storm every week the past several weeks, and kids have missed several school days. We're running out of places to pile the snow. It seems like some snow mounds are so high that they will linger on until May (well, I hope not).

There is one positive thing I can say about all this snow, however: I did learn how to operate a snow plow and tractor with a front loader. That was about the closest thing to 'fun' I've had with snow as an adult, since I don't ski, ice fish or ice skate.

Due to circumstances, I can't work on my bike over the winter, so all I can do is patiently wait until spring and occupy my mind with other things. Usually, I'm not much of a big reader of fiction, but I'm reading an excellent book, "Patriots," that is helping the time pass.

Most importantly, though, a relationship with Jesus Christ and frequent prayer is the best antidote for my winter blues, I've found.

My Motorcycling Year In Review: 2010

2011-01-11T17:13:00.041-05:00

My sophomore year of motorcycling, 2010, began with me looking to replace my beginner's bike, a 535 cc Yamaha, with the Harley-Davidson I'd dreamed about. I fell in love with a used Dyna Wide Glide at a dealer, but when the deal fell through, the hunt was on.

In early January, I saw a similar Wide Glide for sale by an individual in Massachusetts, but didn't have quite enough money to buy it. I scanned the Internet the next few weeks and looked at a few bikes, but nothing materialized. But, by the end of that month, I managed to save more money, enough to buy the 2002 Wide Glide for sale by private owner. I wasn't allowed to test ride the bike, so I had to purchase it on faith, but when I first rode it during an unusually warm spell in January, I found the bike was indeed as solid as the owner said it was. The difference between my Yamaha and Harley was like night and day.

But the snow and cold quickly returned, and the hard part was watching the Harley sit in my garage, waiting for spring when I could really ride it. February is a difficult month for a motorcyclist in New England; my visit to the Northeast Motorcycle Expo in Boston that month only made me itch for spring even more.

In March, I did very little riding, but I prepared my bike for the upcoming season by replacing the rear tire, changing the three types of oil and buying tools I needed to work on the bike. More important, though, I gained a passenger, my girlfriend, Anna, who I'd met a few months earlier. She had not been on the back of a motorcycle in more than a decade, but when I took her for a ride over the Jamestown-Verrazano Bridge that month, she was instantly hooked and rode with me whenever possible.

Around here, the riding season really doesn't start until April. My ego at getting a Harley got deflated a bit when I dropped the bike in a parking lot early that month, but fortunately, I was unhurt and my bike suffered only minor damage. The first official event for my Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association was the bike blessing for the Blackstone Valley (Mass.) Harley Owners Group, followed by a group ride. The last weekend in April, I went to the second annual Motor Officer Bike Blessing and Rodeo at Rendezvous Leather in Uxbridge, Mass.

May is the month when riding weather gets comfortable, and the 2010 CMA Run for the Son was a very memorable event, even more so because Anna accompanied me. We rode to the Living Stone Foundation in Leominster, Mass., a privately owned and operated homestead where God's Word is carved into numerous stones on the property. The weather was warm and sunny, and except for some tense moments of highway riding on the trip up, the whole day was a blessing and very relaxing. On the way home, we took mostly country roads. Another major event I experienced for the first time was the 25th annual R.I. Blessing of the Bikes on Shipyard Street, near the Port of Providence. I had never seen so many motorcycles converging on one place in my life, and the exhaust rumbles of so many bikes sounded like constant thunder.

Also in May, I rode to Laconia, N.H. as part of CMA's Laconia Prayer Ride, where we prayed at the site of the big motorcycle rally in June (which I did not attend). This was my first long-distance ride. I started the day early, and by the time I got home around 10:30 p.m., I had ridden 426 miles, riding solo. Not having a fairing or windshield on my bike, I was rather tired by the end of the day.

Although I wrestled with whether to keep or sell my Yamaha Virago, I decided to sell it in May, and used the proceeds to pay for some upgrades to my Harley in June, including new exhaust pipes, high-performance air cleaner and a carburetor rebuild. I did all the work myself. The modifications improved the looks of the bike, but more importantly, helped it to run much more smoother.

June was the month of our CMA chapter's second annual Oakland Beach Bike Blessing, and as I did the previous year, I had the assignment to greet people and help them park (as Anna said, I was a "fisher of men.") By now, Anna was beginning to show interest in learning to ride her own motorcycle, and her son Ricky, 11, also enjoyed himself that day, climbing on the motorcycle of my fellow chapter member Bob Levesque (who also happens to be Ricky's computer teacher) and wearing my helmet and goggles as he did his best biker impression.

Anna helped me get out of my comfort zone during the third annual Ride for Tomorrow in June, where she urged me to bless the bikes of a couple she met while looking at bikes before the ride. It was the first time I had blessed a bike without more experienced members of my CMA chapter nearby.

July is prime time for our biking season, and mine started with Hogs and Hot Rods, a fun family event at Ocean State Harley-Davidson, where I took Anna and Ricky. That month Anna rode with me on the fifth annual Ride for Corinna's Angels, a benefit ride I'd done solo the year before. I want to praise God and thank Him for answering my prayer that at this year's ride, I would have a woman to ride with me - preferably on a Harley.

In mid-summer, Anna and I thought about riding on my motorycle to West Virginia, where she grew up and still has a sister. The problem is, we would have only had four days off. After researching the idea, we decided that making the 750-mile trip in one day on a motorcycle, while possible, might not be enjoyable. Instead, we settled on some shorter rides in July, just Anna and I. One ride, in eastern Connecticut, started out dry, but we ended up getting soaked to the bone. On another ride, we rode Interstate 95 to western Connecticut, crossed over the border into New York, and then rode back home through the middle of the state. Anna was surprised we had only ridden 300 miles that day, considering how long we were on the road.

In August, I really didn't do much riding. My focus was on Anna, who learned how to ride a motorcycle by taking the Motorcycle Safety Foundation Basic Rider Course at a local community college. She breezed the classroom portion of the course. The first day of the riding portion of the course, she dropped the bike, and, thanks to a less-than-encouraging instructor, she almost gave up. But she persisted, and completed the second day of riding without any mishaps, and passed the course.

September was a memorable month in a memorable riding season. It started with a ride to Massaschusetts to meet up with other CMA members for a pancake breakfast, followed by a scenic ride to The Cross in Barre, Mass., another site dedicated as a monument to God and Jesus Christ. There were a couple of shorter rides after that, and the month ended with the Station Education Fund ride, which was my first poker run-style ride. There was never a dull moment on that ride, which both of us were greatly anticipating, and we were blessed greatly that day.

The education fund ride was followed in early October by another new experience for us - the R.I. Motorcycle Association's annual toy run. It was by far the largest ride Anna or I had been on, with at least 1,000 motorcycles participating as police blocked traffic on major highways. Later that month, Anna and I went on a smaller, local toy drop, but by this time, the riding season was over for all intents and purposes. Neither of us can ride for long in the cold because our fingers go numb, even with gloves. We ended up getting an early snow toward the beginning of November. After that melted and we had some rain to wash the salt off the roads, I took my bike out one last time to change the oil, and it hasn't left the garage since.

In terms of milage, I rode 6,160 miles on my Harley in 2010, plus maybe a couple hundred more on my Yamaha before I sold it. That is about the same total number of miles I logged in 2009, my first year riding. I will say it took much longer to get comfortable riding the heavier and more powerful Wide Glide, compared to how quickly I felt comfortable on the little Virago. But, I feel like I am hitting my stride with the Harley, and having Anna as my passenger makes my riding experiences more enjoyable. In the fall, members of my CMA chapter elected me road captain for the 2011 season, so I'm evidently not the only one who feels my riding skills have grown.

Anna says it was her "best year ever," and I agree. We owe all these blessings to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. My focus in 2010 was learning to trust Him, and although I have not had steady, full-time employment in a long time, the Lord was faithful to provide my needs in 2010. Although I have to wait a few months for the snow to melt, I am excited about the 2011 riding season, as I'm sure He has bigger and better things ahead.

Season's Last Ride

2010-12-19T15:08:00.002-05:00

In New England, no one can predict exactly when it's time to pull the plug on the riding season because the weather is so unpredictable. Just when I think the season's over, along comes a day that is both sunny and relatively warm for this time of the year, and I will hear the rumbles of Harleys, or perhaps the whine of a sport bike.

Yesterday, it was close to 40 degrees, which is not that warm. But, since it followed some frigid days where high temperatures struggled to reach the 20s, it was warm enough to entice several motorcyclists to come out of hibernation. I was not one of them.

When I got my first motorcycle, I was so excited that 40-degree weather was not enough to deter me from riding. Now, don't get me wrong - I still love to ride - but I also like to be at least somewhat comfortable while I ride. And for me, any temperature below 45 degrees quickly becomes uncomfortable. My fingers are the limiting factor. Even with heavy, insulated leather gloves, my finger tips turn white and become numb. The rest of my body is fine well down into the 30s without heated gear, but until I buy heated gloves, I will limit my riding to days that are close to 50 or above.

So, for all intents and purposes, I'm done riding for this year. My last ride was four weeks ago, and even that was just a short ride to warm my bike up enough to change the engine oil and transmission oil. I added some Sea Foam fuel stabilizer to my gas tank before filling it up, and that was it. I had hoped to wash and wax my motorcycle before I parked it for the winter, but it doesn't look like that will happen because of where I am storing it.

But, if there is a silver lining to not being able to keep my bike where I am living, it's that I will not be able to look at it over the winter and wish it was warm enough to ride ... to some extent, it's out of sight, out of mind, and hopefully that will make "parked motorcycle syndrome" easier to bear.

West Virginia Road Trip - Day 4 - Saturday

2010-11-28T17:25:00.010-05:00

After we woke up Saturday, Anna's sister Tonya took me, Anna, Ricky and Little Jimmy out for breakfast at Suzi's, which Tonya insisted had better biscuits and gravy than Tudor's. Suzi's looked like a fast food restaurant, although it is not a chain. After tasting Suzi's gravy, Anna and I agreed we liked Tudor's gravy better, although Suzi's biscuits didn't crumble as easily as Tudors. But then again, having been born and raised in New England, I'm not really qualified to be a critic of southern cooking.

Suzi's drew a brisk business, and a wide variety of customers, including some guys in camoflague jackets. "Look, there's a Skoal ring!" Anna said, pointing to the back of some dude waiting in line, where she could see the outline of a can of tobacco worn into the back pocket of his jeans.

On the way back to her house, Tonya accomodated my request for some Krispy Kreme doughnuts, and we got some hot from the oven. These light, airy and sticky-sweet treats practically melt in your mouth! Although Krispy Kremes are all throughout the south, you cannot find one in Rhode Island (and, vice versa, you will not find a Dunkin Donuts in Charleston, W. Va.).

Like many houses in the area, Tonya's house, which is in South Charleston, sits atop a hill overlooking the Kanawha valley. The street to get to her house is extremely steep on one end (it seemed like a 45-degree incline, but it was probably not quite that much). Then, once you park on the street, you have to walk up a steep set of concrete steps to get to the house. A gutted deer hung in the nextdoor neighbor's carport.

Anna and I decided to go home on Saturday, after hearing that highway traffic would be much worse on Sunday. We left at 3 p.m., while we still had some daylight left. Along Interstate 79 in West Virginia, one can see groups of three crosses in the mountains along the highway every so often. They were placed by a West Virginian, Bernard Coffindaffer, who became a Christian at the age of 42 and began putting up the groups of crosses in 1984 (see http://www.christiancrosses.org/). Since there were no leaves on the trees, we could also see where people lived on the sides or tops of the mountains. Some were rundown trailers with winding dirt roads leading up to them; others were luxury houses. But many of these houses were alone, with not a neighbor in sight. I also saw at least three dead deer on the side of the highway.

I don't think there is any significant straightaway on Interstate 79 in West Virginia. I was constantly driving long, sweeping curves either to the left or right. Then, when we got on Interstate 68 and rode into Maryland, we contended with steep grades. The temperature was cold, and there was some snow on the side of the highway. My tires felt skittish, so I slowed my speeds considerably; at a rest stop, I confirmed the road was definitely slick, so I kept my speeds to 45-50 mph. Going down a steep grade is worse than going up - I felt like I was descending into an abyss, and doing it on an icy road only intensified the white-knuckle experience. (Later, I noticed that my black car had the telltale white residue of road salt.)

Fortunately, though, the roads dried up after about 20 minutes of driving, so I could relax a bit. Once near Hagerstown, Md., the highway flattens out, and it was smooth sailing through the rest of the states. We stopped at the same highway service area off Interstate 78 in Pennsylvania where we had stopped on the way up. At the McDonald's there, three members of the Hell's Angels from South Carolina saw the writing on Anna's hooded sweatshirt that said Federal Hill, Providence, R.I., and told her they had just been in Providence to pay their respects to a brother who had passed away.

After a quick dinner and gassing up the car, we were back on the road. Traffic was relatively light. We went back the same way we came, but it seemed like we were in New Jersey forever, so I had to pull over for a map check. I was on course alright. After crossing the Tappan Zee Bridge in New York, we were soon in Connecticut. After we stopped at a highway service area in Fairfield, Conn., I let Anna drive the rest of the way home. We arrived home an hour or two before daybreak.

I'd like to visit West Virginia again, preferably in the summer, but definitely not in the winter - the roads are difficult enough in dry weather. Anna can't see me living in West Virginia. "My baby don't like the mountains," she teases me.

West Virginia Road Trip - Day 3 - Friday

2010-11-26T23:44:00.002-05:00

Anna wanted to do several things during our trip to Charleston, West Virginia, where she had not lived since 15 years ago. Tops on her list was getting biscuits and gravy - a quintessential southern meal - at Tudor's Biscuit World. Her sister, Tonya, said Suzi's had better biscuits, but Anna persisted, so Tonya, Anna, Ricky and I ate breakfast at Tudor's on Friday. I ordered one biscuit with apples, and one with ham, and dipped my biscuits into the white gravy with chunks of sausage. At the end, I was more full than any traditional bacon, egg, homefries and toast breakfast I've ever had.

After breakfast, Tonya's car became a virtual time machine, taking us to places from Anna's past. We began with a stop at the site of a house on MacCorkle Avenue, next to the Kanawha River, where Anna lived as a young girl (the house was demolished years ago, and another building was in its place). Next we drove over the Dunbar Bridge, headed for Tyler Mountain, where Anna grew up. We saw where her grandfather ("paw paw") used to live. That house is also gone, although some concrete steps and metal handrail that used to lead up the steep hill to his house still remain, partially covered by brush.

We stopped at a convenience store called the Cold Spot, where Anna used to buy candy and soda as a kid, and, when she was a teenager, "hang out." She even got to see Bill, who is still the owner.

Then we drove by the site of a house where Anna lived from her late teens to early 20s. The ramshackle house, which had been owned by Anna's mother, was a "party house" where friends often crashed. "Everyone stayed there at one point or another, even my paw paw," Anna recalled. "It was kind of an 'in between' house for people." Eventually, the house was sold and demolished, and a bus shelter now sits where the house used to be - that's how close it was to the road.

Continuing on Tyler Mountain, we drove up Slaughter's Drive, a steep road that led to a group of houses and trailers clustered on the side of a mountain. Anna lived there with her mother (who is now deceased) from about ages 9 to 17. A house was built over the trailer they used to live in, but the shed she used to play in still stood. Anna stopped at the house next door to her old house, "just to see who was living there," and was pleasantly surprised to see the mother of her childhood best friend, Tammy, who was living in the next house over.

Anna went to the house next door and saw Jack - Tammy's father - cooking eggs. Tammy was sleeping after hitting the early-morning after Thanksgiving sales, but woke up, excited to see Anna, as the two hugged. Tammy said she had tried to find Anna on Facebook, but now they could catch up in person on 20 years of lost time. Anna was equally happy to see Jack, who she calls Jackie. "He was like a father figure to me," Anna said. "He would always say to me, 'If you ever see me on a plane, don't say "Hi Jack!"

Jack teased Anna for losing some of her West Virginia accent. "You sound like you're from New York," he teased Anna. "Don't forget your roots, girl!"

Next, we stopped at a bar called the Wagon Wheel, where Anna's mother, uncle and grandfather used to frequent. Anna said the bar, which has been around for decades, is virtually unchanged from how she remembers it. I actually have a Wagon Wheel tee shirt that Anna's sister sent us (since mine is getting faded, we asked if they had more, but they didn't).

Then we stopped at the 7 Eleven in where Anna used to work (7 Eleven and Go Mart are the two predominant convenience stores in the Charleston area), and rode around an upscale neighborhood in Cross Lanes.

Lastly, even though we were still somewhat full on Tudor's biscuits, we stopped at a local institution, Skeenies Hot Dogs, located in a small shack close to Sissonville Road. Skeenies serves West Virginia-style hot dogs, with steamed buns, spicy chili and finely-chopped cole slaw. In my opinion, they put the New York system weiners, which are prevalent in Rhode Island, to shame. Anna and Tonya were laughing at me because I was going "Mmmmm!" after every bite of my Skeenies hot dogs (I didn't even realize I was doing it, I was so busy savoring those dogs). What was even more cool was that the original owner, a woman in her 80s (sorry, I can't recall her name), served us.

Tonya took us back to her house, but had to leave us because her husband Jimmy had to go to the hospital. He had difficulty swallowing at Thanksgiving dinner and the problem had not gotten better since then. She stayed with him at the hospital until late that night as doctors ran a diagnostic test and found he had a swollen esophagus.

Meanwhile, Anna and I had another situation to deal with at the homefront. Someone clogged the only toilet in the house and I, a master plumber, could not unclog it with the funky-looking contraption with plastic bellows that was there. So, Anna and I had to take a drive to buy a real plunger at K-Mart, which did the job.

Later, Anna, Ricky and I had to drive Anna's daughter (who was also staying at Tonya's house, but rode there separately) and the father of her daughter, to a relative's house in nearby Nitro, W. Va. There, we somehow got talked into taking a sixth person into my car, which only fits five people, so Ricky had to sit on his sister's lap, which degenerated into a major shouting and wrestling match. Fortunately, it was only a short ride to where we had to drop off three passengers, so Anna, Ricky and I could return to Tonya's house for the night.

This blog would not be complete without a bit more about Gawnjie, the 120-lb. Bouvier, who resembled either a black bear or a poodle on steroids. The Belgian dogs are bred to herd cattle, but Tonya had to constantly herd this dog around the house, shooing it out of the way or off of the couch. The breed is known for being smelly to begin with, but this dog was also in heat, which made the odors worse. "Gawnjie, you stink!" was a constant refrain of Tonya, as she followed the dog with air freshener spray.

West Virginia Road Trip - Day 2 - Thanksgiving Day

2010-11-25T23:36:00.002-05:00

Today, I got to meet Anna's sister Tonya's family: her husband, Jimmy; her 3-year-old son, little Jimmy (also known as Bub-Bub), who wears his hair in a mullet; and the family dog, Gawnjie, a 120-lb. Bouvier that resembled a black bear.

Jimmy is a big, soft-spoken man who is into Harley-Davidsons and racing cars. Anna got him the perfect gift: a Harley tee shirt from our local Harley dealer, Ocean State Harley-Davidson, that read, "I'm wearing this tee shirt until they come out with a darker color than black." Anna brought her sister, who recently re-dedicated her life to Jesus Christ, a personalized Bible.

Before Thanksgiving dinner, Tonya and Jimmy drove us to downtown Charleston to see the capitol building and governor's mansion, which is right near the Kanawha River. The capitol's crowning feature is it's 293-foot gold dome, plated in real gold leaf. To my surprise, the doors to the capitol were open, and it was staffed by a capitol police officer, who was on duty until the early evening.

After the capitol, we drove to see Jimmy's mother, Minnie, who had prepared Thankgiving dinner for us and Jimmy's sisters. Getting to Minnie's house at the top of Spring Hill Mountain meant driving up a steep, narrow curvy road, with only a metal guardrail separating the road from a steep drop-off into the woods. Minnie's street was also very steep, and neighboring houses were not only surrounded by steep hills, but all of the houses were on hilly lots themselves. But that is typical of much of West Virginia. If you are not on a hill, then you are surrounded by them.

Minnie was a gracious host and wonderful cook, and after dinner, I was too full to do anything much more strenuous than make conversation. Anna's 11-year-old son Ricky, however, was full of energy and wanted to ride a four-wheel ATV, which he flipped over, ripping his jeans in the process (he only suffered minor cuts and bruises). "Now I'm officially a redneck," Ricky joked. At one point, Little Jimmy raided a tool shed in the yard, using a golf club as a shovel, and opening a gas can. I feared he might drink gasoline, but, as Big Jimmy ran toward him, Little Jimmy said in a southern drawl, "Don't worry, it's empty!"

Before the trip, Anna had hoped to find someone in West Virginia who would let us borrow a motorcycle so we could go riding. She had pinned her hopes on one Jimmy's friends, Slick, but he did not hook us up with a loaner bike. Too bad, because it was actually quite warm on Thanksgiving Day, around 65 degrees. "He (Slick) is the president of a motorcycle club, and he still couldn't come through," Anna joked.

After dinner, we went back to Tonya and Jimmy's house. Anna, Ricky and I were alone because Tonya had to work that night, and Jimmy, who wasn't feeling well, stayed at his mother's house. Being tired from my long drive, I wanted to just chill at the house, but Anna was itching to go out. "I have to get off this mountain, baby," Anna said. "I feel like I'm trapped." Besides being tired, I was also afraid of getting lost, since I didn't have a GPS, and Anna was not entirely confident how to get around, because it had been many years since she lived in Charleston. But she persisted and I gave in. We stopped at the hotel, where Tonya was working the front desk, to find her relaxing on the couch with her shoes off, which drives Anna crazy.

"Sister, people who come here and see you with no shoes will think we're a bunch of hillbillies," Anna scolded her.

Tonya replied, "I feel like I'm at home."

As the two sisters went back and forth, a woman came through the door to check in, and Tonya did not put her shoes on as she got off the couch and walked barefoot past the woman to go behind the front desk. "I don't care if you don't wear any shoes," the woman told Tonya, ending the debate.

After hanging out with Tonya (and enjoying free coffee), Anna Ricky and I went to 7-Eleven to get some snacks. Ricky, who is not shy about approaching strangers, walked up to a customer and said, "Dude, I like your accent!" That was enough to start a 10-minute conversation; people in general, even strangers, are quite friendly in West Virginia. Armed with snacks and Slurpees, we headed back to Tonya's house. It was so warm that I took my shirt off, sipped my Slurpee and sat outdoors on the front steps, watching the sea of lights from the chemical plants in the valley below. Train whistles blew. Crickets chirped. This must have been what country singer Glenn Campbell had in mind when he wrote the song, "Southern Nights."

Several minutes later, after I went back inside, Anna came and got me. I stepped outdoors to find that the weather had changed completely. The calm, clear sky had been replaced by an overcast drizzle, driven by a strong, continuous wind (as opposed to gusts of wind). It felt like I was in a wind tunnel. "Welcome to the mountains, baby," Anna said.

West Viriginia Road Trip - Day 1 - Wednesday

2010-11-24T11:00:00.000-05:00

This past summer, Anna and I considered riding a motorcycle 700 miles to see her sister in West Virginia, but scrapped the idea since we only had four days available. We decided we didn't have enough experience to ride that many miles in one day.

With Thanksgiving approaching, both of us had four days off again, and really wanted to go to West Virginia. This time, we did - the difference was we were on four wheels instead of two. We found out that travelling some 750 miles continuously is challenging, even in a car.

Anna and I had to work Wednesday, so by the time we left Rhode Island, it was 5:30 p.m. My car is a 17-year-old Nissan with 142,000 miles and a non-functional radio, so I brought my iPod for Anna's son, Ricky, and loaded up on snacks. A guy I work with also let me borrow his Dewalt battery-operated jobsite radio so we could have music in the car.

I had wanted to buy a GPS, but Anna said I shouldn't waste my money, since she printed directions on Mapquest (I'm not too keen on Mapquest, but, okay). Traffic on Interstate 95 was heavy, but flowed well, even when we reached New Haven, Conn. Anna said she usually goes over the George Washington Bridge to get past New York, but Mapquest put us over the Tappan Zee Bridge instead. We took Interstate 287 into New Jersey, and then got on Interstate 78 west, crossing into Pennsylvania. We stopped for gas and food at a highway service area in Shartlesville, Penn. around 10:30 p.m., continuing on 78 west until it joined Interstate 81 west, which is a lonely stretch of road through the wilderness. About the only traffic in the early-morning hours was the occasional 18-wheeler.

It was around this point that the driving became more challenging, because it began to rain and the terrain became very hilly. We were continuously climbing or descending long grades. Anna had wanted to give me a No-Doz pill to help keep me alert, but I was not feeling tired at this point (I had been relying on caffiene). The driving was, however, very stressful because of poor visibility: unlike most of Rhode Island, the highway here was unlit, and the paint on the lines in the road was very faded. Also, the rain made it harder to see. I had meant to replace my wiper blades before the trip, but I kept putting it off, so I relied on the reflectors just to stay in my lane. I had to keep my speeds between 45-50 mph. To say the miles dragged by slowly was an understatement. After crossing the West Virginia state line, we stopped at a welcome center before we tackled the longest leg of our trip, about 150 miles on Interstate 79. Like I-68, that highway is also hilly (and constantly curvy). Some hills are so steep that there is a "runaway truck" lane.

By now, I was becoming too tired to drive safely, so at the next rest area, I let Anna drive for about 50 miles. That was enough of a break for me to revive a bit, so I drove the last 50 miles or so into Charleston, the capitol city of West Virgina, as day began to break. We arrived in South Charleston, W. Va. around 7:30 a.m. and met Anna's sister, Tonya, at the hotel where she had just finished working the overnight shift. Then we followed Tonya back to her house, where we we got a few hours of sleep before we had to get ready for Thanksgiving dinner.

"Try doing that on a Harley," said Andy Beaulieu, our friend and member of the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association.

The trip up took us about 13 hours, not counting bathroom, gas and food stops. It can be done in 10-12 hours, Anna said, but between the poor visibility from the rain and the anemic hill-climbing power of my four cylinder Nissan (gettting it to go faster than 60 or 65 mph on some of the steeper hills was impossible), I was thankful we got there safely instead of quickly.

Caught By Surprise

2010-11-08T08:26:00.009-05:00

Sad as it is, for all intents and purposes, the group riding season is over. There are still a few individual riders here and there, holding out as long as they can, as morning temperatures have dipped into the 30s the past couple weeks.

For the most part, I've been fairly busy with work over the past several weeks, so I did not log much riding time as the riding season dwindled. My riding was mostly limited to once a week, usually on a Sunday. The last time I rode was Oct. 31, and that was about as late into the season as Anna could stand (at least without a full-face helmet); her lips and face were chapped. She's done for the year as far as riding is concerned, but I wasn't ready to call it quits yet.

This week, I had no work planned, so my goal was to get some riding in on one or two weekdays, and change the oil on my bike before I put it up for the winter. But this morning, I was caught by surprise when I looked outside and saw snow on the ground! Argh!! It's probably occurred at some time within my lifetime, but I'll be darned if I can remember it snowing this early in November. Anna says it's the start of what she believes will be a long, difficult winter .... sort of Mother Nature's payback for a near-perfect summer. Only one or two rides were rained out, and it never got excessively hot.

It's only an inch or two of slushy snow, so it will likely be gone in a day or two; I'm more concerned about the possibility of salt on the roads, although temperatures are not expected to be below freezing. In any case, I'll be keeping a watchful eye for the telltale white residue. If crews did not put sand or salt on the roads, I may still have hope of riding this week, since the forecast calls for sun with mid-50s temperatures by Thursday and Friday. If they did apply salt, though, I would have to wait for a good rainfall to wash the salt off the road. The end results of salt on chrome ain't pretty ....

The Leader of the Pack

2010-11-07T17:10:00.016-05:00

Once a year in the fall, my Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association holds elections for chapter officers: president, vice president, road captain, secretary, treasurer and chaplain. Chapter members nominate candidates, who have a chance to decline, before the secret ballot voting.

Last month, I learned that I had been among a list of people nominated for the position of road captain (it was decided that there would be co-road captains). But, most of the half-dozen or so people nominated for road captain declined the nomination, so my chapter president, Spike, said the position was mine if I wanted it. I was a bit hesitant, since I have only two seasons of riding experience, but Spike said he felt I was up to the job. Besides, I would be sharing road captain duties with Richard "Pappy" Desjarlais, who is a veteran rider.

The road captain leads the chapter during group rides, riding in the left front position, next to the chapter president. Besides being responsible for the safety of the group on the road, the road captain will do a 'dry run' of the ride's route prior to the day of the ride, checking for anything that would affect the ride, such as road construction, detours or road hazards, and check for fuel, rest and food stops. Road captains also give a report during our monthly chapter meetings.

It was decided to have two road captain positions so there would always be a backup in case one person could not attend a ride, Spike said. If both road captains attend a ride, one could lead and the other could ride sweep.

I assured Anna she would still be able to ride on the back of my bike when I am road captain. "My baby's the leader of the pack," she said, referring to the oldies song "Leader of the Pack" by the Shangri-Las.

My term starts in January.

Right In Our Backyard

2010-10-24T18:56:00.035-04:00

Warm, sunny days and motorcycle runs are becoming more and more scarce this time of year. Anna and I haven't ridden with a group since the big Rhode Island Motorcycle Association toy run three weeks ago. The last two weekends, we've ridden solo, and practiced with her new video camera. But, we were both hankering to ride with a group again. We had an opportunity today, and it happened to be another toy run, the 5th Annual fundraiser to benefit the Sgt. Brian R. St. Germain Foundation and U.S. Marine Reserve Toys for Tots.

This toy run was much smaller than the one earlier this month, and a much shorter ride (actually, it was billed as a "ride-in" and "toy drop" by the Patriot Guard Riders, who led the ride). What was cool about it was that it was practically right in our own backyard - we actually rode by our apartment during the ride.The foundation was created to raise money for renovations and improvements to the West Warwick High School track. It was named in honor of U.S. Marine Sgt. Brian R. St. Germain, a WWHS all-state track star who lost his life in 2006 while serving his country in Iraq.

It was cloudy and about 45 degrees as we rode to the ride's staging area, the Cracker Barrel restaurant in Coventry, R.I. We arrived around

8:30 a.m. and a few minutes later, five other members of my Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association arrived. After a period of greeting and chatting, a total of about 30 bikes began the five-minute hop to the West Warwick High School track. It was practically a straight shot - New London Turnpike, which becomes Main Street, to New London Avenue - although our speed was slow, since it's a congested area with busy intersections. We did have a police escort and blockers, though.

At the track, where there was also a Walk-A-Thon as part of the fundraiser, we parked our bikes and handed our toys to the always impeccably polite

Marines. No motorcycle run - no matter how short - would be complete without food, but they were serving a full breakfast at the high school's cafeteria for $8. The track, which we parked near, is a decent walk from the cafeteria, so some riders rode their bikes over, but our CMA chapter decided to walk, which, we conceded, looked a bit out of character for us. Manny joked, "If you turn the letter 'M' upside down, we could be the Christian Walking Association." Manny and Cameron held their hands up like they were holding onto ape hanger handlebars, while walking. Said Anna, "You guys are in the same boat I'm in - bikers without a bike."

Breakfast was indeed hearty: pancakes, scrambled eggs, sausage and bacon, plus juice and coffee. Anna and I bought a $20 raffle ticket for a chance to win a new 2010 Harley Street Glide or $10,000, plus a few tickets for smaller raffle prizes.

As usually happens on group rides, a solo female rider inspired Anna. This time, it was an older woman named Clare from Warwick, who said she bought a new motorcycle after she survived cancer. Manny and I talked with a guy from the Elks Riders chapter in East Providence, R.I., which is Manny's hometown.

Not long after we finished breakfast, my fellow Romans 8 Riders decided to go to a barbecue fundraiser in Warwick for the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association. I was still full from breakast, so Anna and I stayed where we were until they held the raffle drawings at noon. Lt. Gov. Elizabeth Roberts, who drew the winning ticket for the new Street Glide, joked, "I may lose a lot of votes," but one man in the audience shouted, "you'll gain at least one vote." (I'm still riding Annabelle, my 2002 Wide Glide, so I was not the winner.)

After the raffle, Anna and I decided to go on a longer solo ride, since the four-mile group ride that morning didn't satisfy our appetite to ride. Anna had the foresight the night before to buy some of those hand warming heat packs you unpackage and shake to activate, and they kept her fingers - which are very susceptible

to cold - toasty warm. I hadn't used mine, and by the time we rode from West Warwick to Narragansett, my fingertips were going white and numb. Even though it wasn't that cold (low 50s), it was damp, and that combination is enough to affect blood flow to my fingers. But, a stop at Panera Bread in Wakefield was just the ticket to thaw them out.

(Below is a video clip of our entrance into the West Warwick High School Track)

Highway Hogs ... and, a HBHB First ... Video!

2010-10-03T20:54:00.001-04:00

As a biker, how many times have you wished you didn't have to share the road with cars or trucks? Well, Anna and I enjoyed that rare opportunity Sunday, when we rode in the Rhode Island Motorcycle Association's 2010 Toys for Tots run. Traffic was completely blocked off on major state and interstate highways, as more than 1,000 motorcycles made their way from the Community College of Rhode Island in Lincoln, to Shipyard Steet near the Port of Providence. It was the largest motorcycle run either of us have ridden in so far.

It was also the first time Anna got to use her new digital video camera (NOTE: you can see a short video clip at the end of this blog entry), which I bought her for her birthday. "There's a million motorcycles on the highway, baby," Anna said as she aimed the video camera behind us on Interstate 295, capturing a stream of motorcycle headlights against the grey sky as far as we could see.

Actually, it only seemed like a million motorcycles.

"We'll get about 2,000 to 2,500 bikes," RIMA President Buddy Cardoso told me before the run. "When we get down there (to Russo's Trucking on Shipyard Street), there will already be a bunch of people who didn't go on the ride."

This was RIMA'S 34th annual Toys for Tots run, which is also sponsored by the U.S. Marines, who collected the toys at the end of the run. The route was changed recently, Cardoso said. "This is the third year we've done a little longer ride, to make it a little more interesting, versus just shooting right down Route 146."

Chris, a guy I used to work with, who rides a Suzuki GSX-R1000 sport bike, said he went on the run a few years back and saw some other riders take advantage of no traffic on Route 146, riding at speeds approaching 100 mph and doing wheelies.

My experience was much more sedate, however. The group we rode to CCRI with, comprised of three chapters from the Christian Motorcyclists Association, was in the second wave to be released, so we were toward the front of the pack - close enough that I could see Santa riding on the back of a motorcycle. With police or civilian motorcyclists blocking at every intersection, we never put our feet down until we reached our destination, although our average speed varied between 30 and 40 mph, and even our highway speed never broke 55 mph, as I recall. I didn't witness any shenanigans, but at the end of the ride, rumors buzzed through the crowds that there had been at least one mishap during the run, including a rumor that a rider lost control while doing a wheelie with a female passenger.

I could not confirm that rumor, and the only official account of any accident I could find online was through WPRI.com (affiliated with local news Channel 12). According to WPRI.com, an accident occurred on I-295 south, near Exit 8 (the Route 7 exit), when a motorcyclist on the toy run swerved to avoid a crash and ran into four other motorcycles. Two people were taken to a hospital; others declined treatment, according to the report, which contained no further information.

Anna and I, however, had a pleasant experience, and we felt the run was well organized. The run started with a left turn on Route 246 and then continued on routes 123, 116 and 7, before we got on Intersate 295 south. It was quite a sight to see cars held back from entering the highway as we rode by, and onlookers at many bridge overpasses. We then took Route 6 to Route 10 south, before getting on Interstate 95 briefly, exiting at Allens Avenue. There was some of the 'slinky effect,' but that is to be expected on large group rides.

We rode through the campus of Johnson & Wales University before parking our bikes along Shipyard Street, and then handed our toys to the Marines, who were putting them into their large truck. Anna had bought some Legos, and I bought a Barbie doll. I figured that since bikers tend to be macho, girls' toys might be under-represented; besides, every time I tell someone my name is Ken, there's usually a 10 percent chance they'll say, "How's Barbie?"

The day was also eventful for Richard "Pappy" Desjarlais, another CMA member from my Romans 8 Riders chapter, who spent part of the run videotaping the riders. He said he stopped at the Route 44 overpass after getting permission from a Smithfield police officer. Then, Pappy said, someone in an unmarked car told him to move out of the way, to which Pappy replied that he was almost done recording. A moment later, he felt someone grab his collar, and he was handcuffed by a state police officer, he said. "That just about ruined my day," Pappy said. But, he was quickly released, and joined us at our CMA booth at the truck yard.

Anna was amazed the sheer volume of motorcycles and bikers at the trucking yard, where there was a rock band, food vendors and clothing vendors. "I'm over-stimulated," she admitted, as she grooved on a cover of The Doors song while on a mission to find a hat. The clam chowder and clamcakes we ate warded off the chill nicely. Our CMA booth, which had literature about Jesus, Bibles and even kickstand pads, drew little attention, to Anna's dismay. "Other booths, you have to buy stuff, but everything here is free," she said.

But my fellow Romans 8 Rider, Bob Levesque, said it was a positive day, since our CMA chapters were given a reserved spot closer to the front of the pack this year, and our booth was in a prominent spot.

Havin' a Blast?

2010-09-29T18:13:00.007-04:00

My girlfriend Anna, who is learning to ride a motorcycle, has been researching possible choices for her first motorcycle. This summer, before she even took her Motorcycle Safety Foundation basic rider course, she had her sights set on a Hyosung GV250 Aquila after she saw a woman riding one during a charity ride. With its full fenders and saddlebags, it looks like a mini-Fat Boy. But the price range of $2,500 to $3,000 for a used late-model Hyosung was daunting.

Then, when she took the MSF course last month, she turned her attention to the Honda Rebel 250, which she rode for the course. Weighing in at just over 300 pounds, the Rebel 250s are light, low to the ground and easy to handle. But late-model examples of this bike are also in the $2,500 range, although older models can be found for $1,500 or less.

Anna can't see paying $2,500 for a 250-cc bike when you can buy good, used 500 to 750-cc bike for the same money, and, truth be told, neither can I. Also, some people have said she would outgrow a 250-cc very quickly. On a recent ride, Anna met an older woman named Donna, who, as a new rider, started with a Hyosung GV250 Aquila, only to return it to the dealer two weeks later to exchange it toward a Yamaha V-Star 650.

Sometimes, inspiration comes where or when you least expect it. I was doing a plumbing job at a Dunkin' Donuts in North Providence, R.I. a couple weeks ago when I met Matthew Correia, an operations manager, who rode a 2002 Buell Blast to work. He parked it behind the building, near my van, so I couldn't help but notice the bike and strike up a conversation. The more I looked at the Buell, the more I thought it would be a great first bike for Anna, especially since they are light (about 360 pounds) and low to the ground. They feature a single-cylinder, 492-cc engine.

Buell, which is a subsidiary of Harley-Davidson, introduced the Blast in 2000, and ceased production in 2009. It was targeted toward new riders. It turns out that used Buell Blasts, on average, are cheaper than Honda Rebel 250s. A search on our local Craigslist found several Buell Blasts for around $1,500, in good condition. Parts are relatively inexpensive, according to Matthew Correia, and the bike is easy to work on since everything appears to be easily accesible.

Anna and I looked at pictures of Buell blasts online, but the bike didn't look familiar at all to her. "I've never seen one on the road," she said. And the only one I've seen was the one I mentioned above. Then, on a charity ride last weekend, we both spotted a yellow Blast, and the owner, a somewhat stocky dude, was kind enough to let Anna sit on it (I also learned that the Blasts come in two seat heights, but even with the taller seat, Anna was able to keep both feet firmly on the ground). But, Anna saw a woman on a Suzuki Boulevard S40, and was attracted to that bike also (the 650 cc, single-cylinder bike was formerly known as the Suzuki Savage, another popular beginner's bike), so time will tell what will be Anna's first motorcycle.

Moving Forward

2010-09-25T22:16:00.044-04:00

So far this year, I've taken Anna on several charity motorcycle runs, so she is a veteran. But, I don't think she has ever looked forward to any run as much as the 4th Annual Station Education Fund Charity Motorcycle Ride. Anna lives and works in West Warwick, R.I., where 100 people lost their lives in a fire at The Station nightclub in 2003. The fund was created to help the 76 children who lost one or both of their parents in the fire, which started when pyrotechnics from the rock band Great White ignited soundproofing foam.

"This is emotional," said Anna, who, at first, was unsure if she wanted to participate, since the run is organized by the two brothers who owned the nightclub, Michael and Jeffrey Derderian. Some people still harbor anger toward the Derderians. But Anna spoke to a victim of the fire, who escaped phyiscal injury but was emotionally traumatized. She said the woman advised her to go on the ride because it is for a good cause. "Don't hate the Derderians," Anna said the woman told her.

The run began at Toll Gate High School, and we joined Cathilee DeLorto, the only other member of my Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association who participated in this ride. A total of about 60 motorycles and 100 people showed up. Cathilee said the turnout was signficantly lower than past years, although that could be partly due to the fact that this year's ride had been postponed from last month due to rain.

Today's weather was sunny and so warm that I left the leather jacket at home. As we registered, there were reporters from two local television news stations. I saw Jody King, the education fund's director, and brother of Tracy King, who died in the fire. I told Jody that I used to be a newspaper reporter, and had interviewed his brother Tracy, who became a local celebrity for his feats of strength, which included the ability to balance heavy objects like a canoe on his chin. Although Tracy was a bouncer at The Station nightclub, "he was a big teddy bear," Jody said.

It turns out Anna had also met Tracy King at Lakis Pizza, where she saw him balance a stool and a knife. "I told him, 'You should go on David Letterman,' " Anna said. "He said, 'I already was.' "

This was not a traditional group ride, but a poker run (my first one). We drew our first card at the high school, and we received a score sheet with directions to three checkpoints along the 76-mile ride to our final destination, Motorsports Nation in Plainfield, Conn. Event organizers did not let the group leave all at once, but in groups of six. I ended up at the front of my group, but I asked to switch places with the rider behind me because I was confused. I could not remember a Mobil gas station on Route 2 in Exeter (which surprised Anna, since I used to live near there). "Sorry, I'm having a brain fart," I said to Anna as I shrugged my shoulders.

Our small group got on Interstate 95 south, then to routes 4, 1, 102 and 2, riding past Schartner Farms, to the Oak Harbor Village plaza, where lo and behold, there was a Mobil station I'd ridden by countless times - I was thinking it was an Exxon station instead. We met the first two waves of riders, drew our next card, and waited as more riders arrived. As the sun beat down on us, Cathilee got restless and tried to prod everyone to hit the road.

"Anybody wanna go?!" she shouted. "I'm standing here sweating!" But nobody responded, even after she started and revved her motorcycle. A few minutes later, other people started their motorcycles and the group headed for the next checkpoint, Breezy Acres Mini Golf on Route 1 in Charlestown. I had to accelerate to beat a red light at West Beach Road, and then suddenly had to jam on the brakes to turn into the gravel parking lot of the mini golf, as I apologized to Anna. "It's okay, baby, I'm still on the back," she said.

We drew our third card and most of the group hung out several minutes. The next leg of the ride was down curvy back roads and there were several turns. "Nobody wanted to lead," Anna said. "There's no blockers, no road captain." Pulling out of the mini golf parking lot was dicey, to say the least. I thought I was going to collide with another motorcycle, so I couldn't concentrate on whether any cars were coming on Route 1, where motorists routinely travel at 60 mph or more. I just stayed near the breakdown lane and prayed. Many riders got into the left lane, but then had to make a last-minute lane change to turn right onto Route 216. Then, on Route 216, we had a near-collision with a bicyclist, who thought he was going to cross the road in the middle of a large pack of motorcycles. I heard him drop the F-bomb and he abruptly aborted his attempt. I swerved, and then looked over my shoulder, because I thought he was going to dump his bicycle (I couldn't tell if he did or not).

Things settled down a bit as we enjoyed some early-fall scenic riding on back roads in Charlestown and Hopkinton, and crossed the border into Connecticut, riding past some farms on Route 49, before we arrived at our next checkpoint, at Town Pizza in on Route 165 in Voluntown, Conn. Anna and I had weak poker hands, but strong thirsts by this point. After a few minutes rest, we headed out for the last leg of our ride, as a girl stood in Route 165 and blocked for us. We continued north on Route 49, through more scenic farm country, and ended up at the back of the pack, as some of the larger group got separated in traffic. "This is our road, baby," Anna said. "I like it in the back. I feel safer."

At the end of Route 49, we turned left on Route 14, heading toward Plainfield, Conn. We turned left on Route 12, and then chaos ensued. "It was like ants - everyone scattered," one of the riders said afterward. Some riders turned into a Shell gas station, so at first, I thought it was just a fuel stop, but then other riders turned right into a church parking lot, while still others just made U-turns. I decided to turn into the church parking lot, and followed others, who were cutting through the parking lot to regroup on Route 14. But soon, the group stopped at a market, and I saw one of the 'leaders' dismount to ask a local for directions. We ended up going back toward the Shell station, which was the right direction after all. (It turns out that one of the riders up front, from the Buffalo Soldiers Motorcycle Club, saw a poster with an arrow that he mistook for one of the direction markers for our ride.)

Thankfully, we soon arrived at our final desination, Motorsports Nation, a motorcycle dealer, where we ate hamburgers and hot dogs. "At least we're here," said a rider who was up front. "I kept telling Tony, everything is a left turn." The Derderians and Jody King drew and presented the raffle prizes, which consisted of gift certificates (a smarter idea than gift baskets, which are kind of hard to carry on a motorcycle). Lisa Walsh of Warwick, who had the best poker hand, won the grand prize of $500 cash. "This was my first group ride, and it exceed my expectations," she told the crowd, "so I'm donating the money to the Station Education Fund."

Jeffrey Derderian said the fund so far has helped 21 students with school expenses up through college, including tuition, books, supplies and laptop computers. When possible, the Derderians said they meet personally with the recipients.
Anna said the theme of the event was about moving forward from the tragedy that occurred in 2003. Brenda Wilmot, Jody King's sister, who said a prayer before the ride, said the purpose of the fund is to "help these kids realize their full potential." From the pre-ride prayer (which Wilmot made in Jesus' name), to our group's safety on the ride, and mentions of God during the post-ride presentations, "I felt God's presence the whole day," Anna said.

After the raffle, we were treated to a motorcycle stunt riding demonstation, with a finale ramp jump over a large dump truck by Doug Danger, who was trained by Evel Knievel and who was once in a coma for six months after a stunt accident. Even Doug Danger, with all his skill, appealed to God to calm the winds that could throw off his jump. I'm sure that I was not the only one who prayed that he would complete the jump and not get hurt. God was faithful and answered those prayers, because he nailed the jump.

Anna, Cathilee and I were among the last riders to leave, so we took mostly back roads home, riding at a nice, leisurely pace, including a stop at Dunkin' Donuts for coffee and brownies. After leading Cathilee back to Warwick, Anna and I decided to keep riding since the weather was perfect, and opportunties to ride in a tee shirt this time of year are becoming increasingly scarce. Said Anna, "I don't want to go home."

A Pleasant DMV Experience

2010-09-23T20:42:00.016-04:00

Although my girlfriend Anna successfully completed her Motorcycle Safety Foundation basic rider course last month, she had few opportunities to take her certificate to the Rhode Island Division of Motor Vehicles, since she has a full-time job. I promised I would accompany her to the DMV to get her motorcycle permit, so today, she took some paid time off, and I scheduled no work.

Since it was sunny and warm, we decided to hop on my Harley and turn what would otherwise be a mundane errand into a pleasant local ride. We started out from Coventry around 10:30 a.m., so there was light traffic as we rode Route 3 to Route 102 through West Greenwich and Exeter; then routes 4, 1 and 138 through North Kingstown; over the Jamestown Bridge; over the Newport Bridge; and to the DMV branch in Middletown on Valley Road.

Until recently, the DMV headquarters was located in Pawtucket. It was notorious for long wait times, often several hours. The headquarters moved to a new building in Cranston, but I suggested that we go to the Middletown branch since it's seldom crowded. My advice proved correct on this day.

We arrived at 11:20 a.m., got ticket number B-438, and then made a beeline for the bathroom, before my bladder exploded. There were only seven numbers ahead of us.

I used the bathroom first, and Anna went next, while I listened to numbers being called on the P.A. system. In the short time she was in the bathroom, four numbers were called. I was worried we might miss our turn, so I knocked on the door and told her to hurry. "I didn't think we'd get out of the bathroom fast enough," Anna said as we sat on a bench and watched an LCD screen with interesting facts (did you know that if you are traveling 65 mph, it takes the length of a football field to stop?).

Soon it was our turn. Anna showed her course certificate and driver's license, and paid a $26.50 fee. In return, the clerk gave her a motorcycle permit, which she must hold for at least 30 days, and then return to the DMV and pay another $26.50 to get her motorcycle license (or, more accurately, an operator's license with a motorcycle endorsement). We were in and out in less than 30 minutes.

We had a few more hours and the weather was perfect, so we decided to ride to Bristol, a scenic town on the bay. There was some heavy traffic on Route 114 in Middletown due to construction, but we soon were moving at a nice, easy pace, with no cars breathing down our neck as we enjoyed views of Narragansett Bay. After going through downtown Bristol, we stopped at a Ricotti's sandwich shop and got lunch to go, bringing it to Colt State Park, where we sat on a bench near a boat launch.

"This is the perfect day, baby," Anna said. "I actually enjoyed going to the DMV."

After lunch, we lingered on the bench (which was dedicated for someone's 90th birthday last summer, according to a plaque that read, "Please rest for a while and enjoy the view") as we soaked in the sunshine. Neither of us wanted the day to end. But we had one more errand to do: renew my plumbing license at the Dept. of Labor & Training in Cranston. We continued through Warren and Barrington before getting on the highway for the ride to Cranston. Even the highway ride was good, since we beat the afternoon rush.

The Price of Freedom

2010-09-21T22:17:00.016-04:00

Citizens of our nation enjoy many freedoms, but some take freedom for granted. Freedom is not an entitlement, but something that was purchased with the lives of men and women who fought for our country. The city of Attleboro, Mass., is one community that wants to make sure that the sacrifices made by those who served in the military are not forgotten. Last Saturday at Capron Park, about 100 people attended a POW/MIA 9-11 remembrance ceremony.

Our Christian Motorcyclists Association Romans 8 Riders chapter president, Spike, who has a heart for veterans, urged our chapter members to attend the ceremony. Anna and I first met up with Bob Levesque at a Dunkin' Donuts in Coventry, R.I., for the rush-hour highway ride to our staging area, the parking lot of Cardi's Furniture in South Attleboro. About 50 motorcycles converged at Cardi's. Riders consisted of various CMA chapters; military and veterans riding clubs; and unaffiliated riders.

There, Anna met a woman named Donna in her late 50s, who recently earned her motorcycle license. She bought a 250 cc motorcycle, but ended up returning it to the dealer a couple weeks later and buying a Yamaha V-Star 650 instead, which made Anna re-think her plan to buy a 250 cc bike for her first motorcycle.

Around dusk, our group hit the road for the short ride to Capron Park, where the ceremony had just begun. Rick, a member of my Romans 8 Riders chapter, had lent Anna a camcorder, but Anna and I caught by surprise when the crowd under the pavilion at the park stopped, turned around and applauded us as we rode up. In the parking lot was a 30-foot-by-50-foot black POW/MIA flag. An American Legion honor guard fired a rifle salute.

Besides remembering prisoners of war and soldiers missing in action, the ceremony also remembered citizens who lost their lives in the terror attacks on Sept. 11, 2001.

After a candle lighting, prayer and bagpipe rendition of "Amazing Grace," the ceremony broke up and it was dark. Spike and some other Romans 8 riders had planned to go out for a late dinner, but Anna and I were tired and hit the highway home, enjoying another kind of freedom - feeling our knees in the wind.

There's Peace at The Cross

2010-09-07T19:13:00.003-04:00

With Labor Day weekend being summer's last hurrah, there was no way I was going to pass up a chance to ride. Our Christian Motorcyclists Association chapter had two rides scheduled, on Sunday and Monday. Anna and I chose Monday's ride, since it was preceded by breakfast.

Our rendezvous point was a place called Jumbo Donuts in Whitinsville, Mass. I was unfamiliar with the area, and so was Cathilee DeLorto, the only other Romans 8 rider from our area who was going on the ride, so I took on the responsibility of going on Google and Mapquest to get directions. I copied directions by hand, since no printer was available. Anna and I arrived at Cathilee's house around 7:30 a.m., an hour before we were due at Jumbo Donuts, which I figured would give us plenty of time. Things went smoothly until we got off the highway; then I had to pull over to do a map check.

I've often grumbled about Mapquest, yet, I continue to use it. Many modern motorcyclists use GPS navigators, but, until now, I've resisted them. This trip, however, had me wishing for one. The streets I was looking for eluded me, so I swallowed my pride and pulled over to ask a couple of joggers for directions. Less than a mile later, I was still lost, so I thought I'd have better luck at a gas station ... turned out no luck actually. The attendant was of Middle Eastern descent and spoke in broken English. When we asked if he knew where Jumbo Donuts was, he asked, "You want breakfast?" We backtracked, and then Cathilee, who was riding behind us, spotted the street we were looking for and frantically waved for us to turn. I have to admit the reason we missed the street was because I wrote it was a right-hand turn, when it was actually a left turn. No wonder I rode right by it. We reached the intersection with Route 122 where Jumbo Donuts was supposed to be, but we saw no sign of it, so we stopped for gas. I was just about to go inside to ask for help again, but I spotted the Jumbo Donuts sign across the way, tucked behind another gas station. Our excitement was short-lived, though. A woman behind the counter said we missed our fellow bikers by five minutes.

So now we were in the same boat, having to find our way to the next stop without anyone to follow. I had enough foresight to write down directions to the church where the breakfast was being served, but my writing was chicken scratch (Anna works with doctors who she says have better handwriting), so one of us asked a guy at the donut shop for directions. Even though he was a local, he actually made me more confused the more he repeated himself. Cathilee did not look happy at this point. We decided to just start riding in the direction the donut shop employee had seen the other bikes go, and then I saw a police car parked on the side of the road, so I stopped to ask him for directions. I think he sent us the same way the donut shop guy did, but I was able to follow the officer's directions much more easily. In about 10 minutes, we found our pre-ride desination, the First Congregational Church in Sutton Center. My fears of our of fellow CMA riders finishing their breakfast and heading down the road before we could even find the church disappeared as we rode up to the church, which had a crowd of people outdoors lined up for an all-you-can-eat breakfast for $8 (the church has been hosting this breakfast fundraiser for more than 50 years).

We saw CMA riders from other chapters, as well as Roland and Sue Caron from our chapter. Roland's brother, Mike, arrived several minutes after us, since he had gotten lost too. I had pancakes, ham, eggs, home fries, juice and, of course, coffee. After breakfast, a family was admiring our bikes. One boy who looked about 10 years old said he didn't want a motorcycle when he got older. "They look dangerous," he said. There were about 20 CMA-ers from

various chapters, but they decided to split up after breakfast. One group was riding to New Hampshire and another contingent was riding to Connecticut. Anna and I decided to ride with a third group on a shorter ride to Barre, Mass. to a place called "The Cross."

Our road captain for this leg of the ride was Kathy Hubbard from the Victorious Riders chapter. Anna remarked, "A woman is finally the leader." Kathy rode hard and I was a bit out of my comfort zone keeping up. We rode north on Route 146, and as we approached Worcester, Mass., we had to jam on the brakes due to an accident on the highway involving at least two vehicles; the mishap had probably happened just moments before. Shards of debris covered every lane as we rode by very slowly (a decision was made not to stop, since all the people were out of their vehicles and did not appear to be seriously injured, plus we deducted from the sirens that help was on the way).

Downtown Worcester, especially Chandler Street (Route 122), was not much more hospitable. Road construction in progress left several raised manhole and water curb stop covers that could ruin a motorcyclist's day. Pedestrians seemed to come at us from every direction. "Welcome to the jungle, baby!" Anna said.

We stayed on Route 122 for several miles, eventually leaving the city for more rural, scenic environs in the towns of Paxton, Rutland, Oakham and Barre, where we ended our ride at John P. Harty Sr.'s farm, also known as "The Cross," so named for its asphalt cross 200 feet long and 25 feet wide, with the Ten Commandments neatly painted on the asphalt in block letters three feet high. Harty began the project in 1989, when, while he was praying the Lord's prayer, he heard a "loud, firm and clear"

voice instruct him to clear some land and build a cross to those specifications. As of 1992, Harty had spent about $100,000 on the project, according to an interview with the Worcester Telegram & Gazette. Since then, additions to the site have included a stone wall and shrubs planted to spell out "God's wisdom."

As our group walked around the site, which includes a pond and benches, I felt an incredible sense of peace. Anna and I got to meet Harty, a hospitable man now in his mid-80s, who passed out ice cream sandwiches. Anna asked if he had to maintain the property himself, but Harty said a man who lives about 45 minutes away has faithfully volunteered to mow the rather substantial amount of grass. Another man provides his services building the stone wall.

Romans 8 Riders Vice President Roland Caron said Harty often feeds visitors to his site on holiday weekends, and this weekend was no exception, as we got to enjoy hot dogs, hamburgers and numerous side dishes plus desert. I would have loved to stay longer, but others in our group had to be home by a certain time, so Roland led the ride back to Rhode Island. At a gas stop, I noticed what appeared to be a Buddhist monk across the street, sitting on some steps, staring at our group. I stared back because I could not tell if it was a person or a statue. Anna, however, said she saw him move his hand.

"I thought he was jinxing us," Anna said. "I had to put voodoo on him," she joked.

We made our way back through downtown Worcester (where I think the exhaust system on my bike set off a car alarm - and that's with the Vance & Hines 'quiet baffles') and the rest of the ride was smooth sailing in perfect riding weather. And yes, the peaceful feeling lasted the rest of the day.

The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds s in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)

AAA Saves the Day

2010-08-28T09:27:00.009-04:00

I'm a member of the American Automobile Association, and so far, I have not had to call on them for my vehicles. But, one of the cool features of AAA membership is that they cover you even if you are a passenger in someone else's vehicle.

Last night, we celebrated my girlfriend Anna's son's 11th birthday with a trip to Dave & Buster's in Providence, R.I. Located in the Providence Place Mall, D & B's combines a restaurant with a game arcade. Anna drove her vehicle, since I had my van and couldn't carry three people. After a fun evening, we were driving back to West Warwick on Interstate 95 when we heard a bang and her Oldsmobile SUV began to wobble. A rear tire blew out, and she pulled off to the side of the highway. (Her Oldsmobile was missing a spare tire.)

Anna avoids driving to the city, as she tends to get lost easily. "I've broken down on the way back from Providence so many times, I hate it." But I called AAA on my cell phone, and in less than 30 minutes, two flatbed trucks had arrived. One truck took her vehicle to a tire shop, and the other truck took the three of us home.

"Imagine how ugly it would have been if you wouldn't have been there," Anna said later. "Me and Ricky would have had to walk home."

I was impressed with AAA's service and the friendliness of the tow truck drivers. For the record, however, they do not tow motorcycles, the driver said.

A Remarkable Ride

2010-08-19T22:08:00.000-04:00

Neither my girlfriend nor I have taken a ride on my Harley (a/k/a Annabelle) in quite some time. In fact, Annabelle was getting dusty sitting in my garage, although that has as much to do with the fact I've been working with drywall as the length of time its been sitting idle. Anyway, all of us were overdue to hit the road.

Anna suggested that we go for a ride after she got home from work Wednesday, so when she pulled into her parking lot, the bike and I were waiting for her.

"Where do you want to go?" I asked.

"Anywhere you take me, baby," Anna replied.

We endured heavy rush-hour traffic in West Warwick before we got to Route 117 in Coventry, where I could settle into a nice, steady, therapeutic 45 m.p.h. cruise. Then we headed north on Route 102, where we navigated several uneven patches of new pavement; I guess the state couldn't afford to repave the whole road. Next, I went east on Route 6. I briefly pulled over near the Scituate/Johnston town line to ask Anna if she wanted to return home the quick way (go south on Interstate 95), or the long way (go through the east bay towns of Rhode Island (Barrington, Warren, Bristol, Middletown and Newport). She chose the long way.

Since it was after 7 p.m. by this time, the highway ride through Providence was actually pleasant due to relatively light traffic. I enjoyed the sweepers on Route 6 before it joined the 6/10 Connector, and the recently-completed highway project in Providence made getting from Interstate 95 to 195 a breeze.

By the time we made a pit stop at the Dunkin Donuts on Route 114 in Barrington, it was dusk. I had worn my clear goggles, since it was cloudy. Despite the cloud cover, though, we were still treated to a beautiful sunset. As I glanced at my rearview mirror, I saw the setting sun causing the clouds to glow orange. We stopped near the beginning of the East Bay Bike Path to watch the sunset over Bristol Harbor. Time seemed to stand still and worries faded away as we marveled at God's glory reflected in nature.

We continued along Route 114, crossing the Mt. Hope Bridge, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that the road was newly repaved. I remembered that there was a KFC coming up, and I suddenly had a craving for one of their chicken pot pies, so we stopped for a late dinner.

Now, there were several things about our visit to the KFC in Middletown, R.I. that were remarkable. In medical terminology, the word "remarkable" is used to describe things that are out of the ordinary. Anna, who is a medical assistant, had told me that just yesterday, and for some reason, I felt compelled to mention that in my blog.

First, although it was 8 p.m., this KFC was nearly as busy as lunchtime - I'm only slightly exaggerating.

Second, they were out of several things, including my chicken pot pie. I settled on chicken strips, but I must have gotten the last ones, since I heard the kid behind the counter tell the customers after me that they would have to wait several minutes for them to cook (or heat up? lol) more strips.

Third, Anna had an even more frustrating time ordering. They had no more chicken breasts, and wanted to substitute ONE wing or ONE drumstick. Anna practically had to argue with them to convince them that two wings or drumsticks is a fair swap for a breast. Too funny.

After leaving KFC, we encountered road construction and rough pavement on Route 114 in Middletown, but it was smooth sailing over the Newport and Jamestown bridges, which I usually don't ride over at night.

Back to medical terminology: Unremarkable means the opposite of remarkable; that is, nothing out of the ordinary or usual. For instance, all the road construction we encountered was (for Rhode Island) unremarkable. And, you could say, the sunset, although stunning, was unremarkable, because God routinely blesses us with beautiful sunsets.

However, a KFC running out of chicken, to me, is quite remarkable.

Becoming a Biker Chick

2010-08-15T20:17:00.002-04:00

I haven't been riding or blogging much the last couple weeks due to a busy workload, so it's time to turn the spotlight on my girlfriend Anna, who, after having been a passenger on the back of my Harley the past several months, is learning how to ride a motorcycle.

She enrolled in the Motorcycle Safety Foundation's Basic Rider Course, and scored 100 percent on the written test following an all-day classroom session last Saturday. This weekend, however, was the real test - the range portion of the course. I went with Anna yesterday to the range, at the far end of the parking lot at Community College of Rhode Island in Warwick, to meet the instructors and give her an idea what to expect, since I went through the same course about two years ago.

There were seven students the first day of the range; three of them were women. Anna was excited, but also a bit nervous because she thought she was the only person in her class who had never ridden a motorcycle. She was a bit relieved to discover that another woman, Jean, also had zero experience.

Some background is in order: When Anna was about 11 years old, she was riding a go

kart on a dirt road when she lost control and went down an embankment, then into a creek and hit a tree. A few years later, she rode a pony named Buck who (as his name implies) tried to buck her off as he headed back toward the barn. Now, fast forward to this weekend ....

Yesterday, the first day of the range, I watched while the MSF instructors, Dave and Tim, spent several minutes demonstrating the controls on

the bikes, 250 c.c. Honda Rebels or Nighthawks. Then the students "power walked" the motorcycles up the parking lot's slight incline to acquaint themselves with the bikes' friction zones. Eventually, I saw Anna ride with her feet on the pegs, and I was there to take a picture. When she turned the bike around at the far end of the parking lot, though, I saw the rear tire of her Honda Rebel smoke as the throttle revved wildly. At that point, I had to leave, but I worried about her the whole afternoon. When I talked to her later that afternoon, she told me she had dropped the bike twice. She said she was unsure what she did wrong, only that the motorcycle's engine would race and the bike would buck before she panicked and dropped it.

"It was like the motorcycle had a mind of its own," said Anna, who was not hurt. After the first time she dropped it, she wanted to sit out the rest of the exercise, but she said one of the instructors, Dave, told her, "Well, if you're scared, you should just go home."

Anna said she thought about it for a second and then told Dave, "Okay, I'll get back on the bike ... I'm not scared," but in reality, she was still frightened and even drove her car home slowly (usually, she has a lead foot while driving).

Anna went home discouraged, but decided to go back today for the second half of the range, since Dave would not be there. She was not optimistic about passing the riding tests, but she at least wanted to give it her best try. "Pray me up, folks," Anna wrote on her Facebook page this morning. "I get spooked and the bike bucks like Buck, a pony I used to know. I have to increase my speed today and know that I control the bike - it does not think on its own. I am a trooper to go back again today ... quitters never win, and winners never quit."

I stayed to watch the entire session today, and, as the students chatted before the session, several were very encouraging to Anna, saying she was improving. Anna was also greatly encouraged by a fourth woman, Flavia, who joined the class today to re-take the range portion of the course, which she had failed a couple weeks earlier. Flavia admitted she lost control of her motorcycle during practice and crashed into three parked bikes. "Don't give up!" she told Anna.

Tim the instructor, who, according to Anna, is easygoing and encouraging, was joined today by a different instructor, Anthony, who reminded Anna that she should not be so hard on herself after just one afternoon of riding. He asked Anna (who is a medical assistant) what she did for a living, and then said, "Do you think I would know how to give someone an E.K.G. tomorrow?"

Unlike yesterday, the instructors gave the students a couple of breaks. "I didn't drop it," Anna announced at the first break. Jean told Anna, "You're much calmer today than you were yesterday." From what I could see from afar, Anna was riding more smoothly than yesterday, although more slowly than most of the other students. By the second break, Anna and Flavia were gaining more confidence and were ready for the final tests.

"We're doin' it, girl!" Flavia said to Anna. "C'mon, we got this!" Around 4:45 p.m., I saw the students dismount their motorcycles, and as I walked toward them, I heard whooping and cheering. "We all passed!" Anna said. "I never thought I could do it!"

Anna scored an 85 on the range tests. With her MSF course certificate, plus a $26 fee, she can now go the registry of motor vehicles for her motorcycle learner's permit, which she must hold for a minimum of 30 days before obtaining a motorcycle endorsement on her driver's license.

As Anna jumped up and down with excitement, Jean said, "Anna's a biker chick!"

Anna responded, "It's official - I've got the certificate!"

Looking back, Anna was glad she didn't give up after a difficult first day. "Success comes after splat," she said. "I give God the glory ... but I had to do a little work. If God directs your path, then you are where you're supposed to be."

The steps of a man are established by the LORD, when he delights in his way (Psalm 37:23, ESV)

The Push for New York

2010-07-27T10:58:00.031-04:00

On Monday, Anna had one more day off from work and a babysitter for her son, which equals a rare opportunity for her to go for a longer ride. And, unlike our last ride, it was warm and sunny, so she was chomping at the bit to get on the back of my bike and log some serious miles.

We dropped her son Ricky off in Warwick, R.I. around 1 p.m. Since we had to start late, the general plan was to ride on Interstate 95 south to get to New Haven, Conn., as fast as possible, and from there, head to Danbury, Conn. to connect to U.S. Route 7, the focal point of our ride. Between New Milford and Kent, Route 7 wanders very close to the eastern border of New York state, so my goal was to cross the border so we can say we've ridden in New York.

Anna is not a big fan of highway riding, and it didn't help that it was breezy. The wind pushed my bike around as my highway speed varied between 60 and 70 mph. Since I have no windshield on my bike, Anna thought I had to "hang on for dear life," but I assured her I was quite comfortable. Anna was not comfortable, however; her loose-fitting half helmet put a strain on her neck as the wind pushed her head around, and the wind noise bothered her ears. I felt her legs squeeze me tighter as we approached bumps or transitions in the road (transitions or lines in the asphalt cause the skinny 21" front tire on my Wide Glide to wander a bit).

I stopped for gas at an interstate service area in Madison, Conn., where we also ate snacks, drank water and checked the map. It was around 3:30 p.m., and we had to decide if we wanted to stay on I-95 until we hit New Haven, or get off the highway and take secondary roads to bypass the city. Since we were pressed for time, we chose the first option. My worries of hitting stop-and-go traffic on I-95 never materialized. From the highway, we got on state Route 34, only spending a little time in urban New Haven. The most scenic part of Route 34 is the section that follows the Housatonic River, which reminded Anna of her native West Virginia. We crossed the river on the Stevenson Dam Bridge in Oxford, Conn. and continued along Route 34 until we hit Interstate 84, which we rode west to Danbury. Then we got on U.S. Route 7 north.

Going north from I-84, U.S. Route 7 begins as a freeway and then becomes a busy commercial road. Traffic thinned out after the junction with Route 67, and we continued north on Route 7 until we reached the village of Gaylordsville, Conn. From there, it was only four miles to the New York border from the junction with Route 55, a twisty country road. We spotted a tall sign (near someone's front yard) welcoming us to New York, and we pulled over to take photos, wondering if the people who lived there often had to put up with photo-takers. Then we rode down a side street - Hoyt Road in Wingdale, N.Y. - before turning around and heading back to Route 7 in Connecticut.

If we had more time, I would have liked to have continued riding north on Route 7, where there was more scenic riding, but I was content to have reached my goal of crossing the New York border. For me, the pressure was off.

"You were on a mission, baby - this ride was all about the destination," said Anna, whose motto is usually, 'It's not about the destination - it's the ride.'

Instead, we went south on Route 7, and after fueling the bike, we stopped for dinner at Arby's in New Milford, Conn. (Anna's idea) and planned our route back to Rhode Island. Since we had to get back to Rhode Island by 10 or 11 p.m. and we were losing daylight, I decided to take Interstate 84 east through Hartford; Interstate 384 east through Manchester; and then Route 6 east into Rhode Island. At a rest stop in Southington, Conn., I put on my leather jacket and gloves, which I was very glad I brought; the temperature dropped quickly as the sun went down.

As we approached Hartford on I-84 east, we hit stop-and-go traffic due to road construction, and it was the only white-knuckle riding of the whole trip. I got in the wrong lane and tried to edge my way back into my original lane, which was hairy with the amount of cagers around me. Then we also hit some rough surfacing which made my front tire squirrely, but we made it through okay and it was smooth sailing through Manchester. By the time we got on Route 6 east, it was dark, and I rode at or slightly below the speed limit - partly because my single headlight does not cast much light, and partly out of concern for possible deer encounters (the glare of oncoming headlights didn't help either).

At one point, we got stuck behind a tractor-trailer being towed by another big rig, doing about 30 mph, its flashing hazard lights acting like a beacon on the dark road. The highlight of our ride back on Rou te 6 was following a big, orange full moon. We rode Route 6 into Rhode Island, and then got onto Interstate 295 south to Warwick, R.I., where we had begun. We returned around 10:30 p.m., having ridden a total of just over 300 miles. It was the longest she's ever ridden in one day, and the longest I've ridden with a passenger. Anna was very tired, although she said her butt did not hurt. My right shoulder and elbow were a bit stiff, but I was otherwise okay.

About a week ago, Anna wanted to ride 750 miles to West Virginia in a single day, and, when she researched to see how easy or difficult that would be, she was surprised to read that many people consider 300-400 miles the upper limit for a reasonably comfortable day of riding.

"I thought they were just being wusses," she said. "Now I know that's a lot."

Rain Ride

2010-07-23T21:27:00.042-04:00

In the movie The Weather Man, people often assaulted Nicolas Cage's character, throwing fast-food items at him - presumably payback for botched weather forecasts. Hmmm ... I bet some of them rode motorcycles.

Since we decided to scrap a ride to West Virginia, Anna and I settled for a day trip on Friday, the only day she had completely available to ride. The weather forecast - cloudy, with only a 10 percent chance of showers by the early afternoon, increasing to around 30 percent by late afternoon - was not ideal, but not horrible either. We at least figured we'd have three or four hours of dry weather, and escape the worst of the rain, as long as we got back before 4 p.m.

As we began riding toward Connecticut around 10 a.m., I thought it was actually nice not riding with the sun beating down on us. We both wore our leather jackets since it was around 70 degrees, a bit cool for summer. But after only 45 minutes into our ride, before we even reached our first destination, rain began to fall. Although light at first, it would never let up the remainder of our ride, and, indeed, it gradually fell harder and harder, making a total mockery of the weather forecast.

Our first destination was Buttonwood Farm Ice Cream on Route 165 in Griswold, Conn. Some friends rode out there about a week earlier and took some awesome photos of the farm's fields of giant sunflowers, and Anna wanted to take some photographs of them. But upon our arrival, the parking lot was nearly full and, to our disappointment, we found that you had to pay to take a tour of the field and get up close to the sunflowers. (According to the farm's website, proceeds from the "Sunflowers for Wishes" tours benefit the Connecticut Make-A-Wish Foundation.) Since there was a large crowd and we wanted to ride,

we left the parking lot, rode a bit further, and then pulled off to the side of the road to look at another field of sunflowers. A woman graciously offered to take a few photos of Anna and me together. "Is that a new bike?" she asked me. She was impressed at how clean it was for an 8-year-old motorcycle.

We continued along Route 165, catching Route 2 through downtown Norwich, Conn., and rode along Route 32 north, through the towns of Franklin and Windham. Then we came upon Willimantic, a small city that once thrived due to the textile industry, which fled long ago. This was the first part of Connecticut Anna saw that was not very scenic. Or as she put it: "Willimantic: it's not romantic." After leaving Willimantic, Route 32 became more rural and scenic as we passed through some small villages. The rain showers were beginning

to fall a bit harder, but we were still comfortable.

We stopped at a Mobil gas station at the junction of routes 32 and 195 in Mansfield, Conn., for a bathroom break and map check. A postman asked if I would rather have a GPS, but I told him I preferred a map. "I'm

old school," I said. Anna, who is originally from West Virginia, noticed that people in Connecticut seemed friendlier and more helpful than people in Rhode Island, where we both live. A few people who saw me looking at a map asked if I was lost, to which I replied, "No, I'm not lost ... I just don't know where I want to go next." (That was an honest statement, not sarcastic, because I had not planned our ride beyond our first stop.) At the Mobil station, we saw a few bikers ride by, despite the rain. In the parking lot, we talked to a woman in a car with Massachusetts plates, who had experience riding a motorcycle in the rain. She told us she would wear plastic bags around her feet before putting them in her boots. "I can't stand wet feet," she said.

From the gas station, I initially considered getting on Interstate 84, riding north to the Massachusetts Turnpike, riding east and then back south to Rhode Island, but Anna said she didn't want to ride on the highway, since the rain drops were stinging enough at 45 mph (we both wore half helmets and my bike has no windshield). So I decided to continue riding on Route 32 north and then head east before we reached the Massachusetts border. We rode through the towns of Willington and Stafford, and got on Route 190 in Stafford Springs. The rain, which had seemed to let up a bit at the Mansfield Mobil station, got heavier, and my fingers began to get a bit numb. Although I wore a leather jacket, I had neglected to wear gloves. We then rode east on Route 197, one of the more scenic roads (especially past Bigelow Hollow State Park). It would have been fun to ride with its sweeps, dips and curves, had it been dry out. We stopped at the intersection with Route 198 for a map check, and at that point, decided to start heading back home. We would continue riding east on 197 and then get on Route 169 south.

Connecticut Route 169, another scenic road, is not as technically challenging as Route 197, but it starts (from the north end) in the beautiful town of Woodstock, Conn., a

charming mix of farms and quaint New England-style village greens. But we needed a break to

thaw our hands. Anna suffers from Raynaud's Disease, and her fingers were going numb from the cold also. The leather jacket she wore did not cover her waist, and she said she could feel water dripping down the back of her jeans, which was completely soaked, as was her top. "I don't mind being wet," she said, "but it's COLD for July!" The forecasters had predicted the temperature would be about 80 degrees, but it felt like it was in the high 60s, at best. I missed a turn for Route 169, so we stopped at the Cinnamon Tree Bakery on Route 171 in Woodstock, Conn. for a bathroom break and coffee (which was not hot, and had to be microwaved). The woman behind the counter let us warm our hand inside one of the bakery's ovens that was shut off, but had recently been used to bake muffins, so was still warm. She also gave us some vinyl food prep gloves, which did help a bit to delay cold-induced numbness for the rest of our ride.

The rain seemed to come down even harder by the time we got back on the bike, so it was now a test of endurance. From the bakery, I had planned to stay on Route 169 south, and then cross over to Route 49 via 14, but instead, I decided to take Route 6 west to get back to Rhode Island faster. Anna said she was "never so happy" to see the 'Welcome to Rhode Island' sign. We then got on Route 102 south, since it was a fairly straight path to the southern part of the state, where I unexpectedly hit a construction zone where a section of the road was dirt. Despite the rain, road crews were at work, and I had to pass a road construction roller in operation. By the time we hit Route 3 in West Greenwich, I needed to take another break and was looking for the Middle of Nowhere Diner, but I turned north instead of south on Route 3, so I had to turn around. I had forgotten the diner was actually located in Exeter, R.I. (Surprisingly, we saw three other motorcyclists riding in the rain in Rhode Island.)

The diner's parking lot was packed, but we managed to get a booth. Taking off her soaked jacket, Anna could not stop shivering, an

d the air conditioner inside the diner didn't help. I had to hold her to warm her up while we sipped coffee, and then ate a bowl of clam chowder and turkey club sandwich. Our waitress took pity on us and asked us how much farther we had to ride before we got home. "Not too far ... about 20 miles," I replied.

"That's far enough," she said.

After riding about 170 miles, mostly in the rain, a hot shower never felt so good. So far, I have not invested in rain gear, since I don't plan on intentionally riding in the rain. But, this experience has taught me to never trust a weather forecast, and always be prepared.

West Virginia Bound?

2010-07-21T15:36:00.000-04:00

Few things symbolize freedom as much as hopping on a motorcycle for a long-distance road trip. For the last few weeks, I have had very little work (I'm self-employed), and, about a week ago, I casually mentioned riding to Sturgis if my lack of work continued.

It was really kind of a pipe dream, since I'm practically broke, but it got my girlfriend Anna thinking, we could ride to West Virginia, where she is from originally. Other than money, I have few things preventing me from taking a long road trip. Anna, on the other hand, has a full-time job, plus a 10-year-old son. But, since she has a few extra days of paid time off from work coming, and her son would be staying with relatives for a few days, she was ready to ride with me to West Virginia, where she has not been in 12 years.

"It seems like we never get to ride long enough on group rides," Anna said. "I always want to keep going."

Originally, the plan was to leave Rhode Island around 9:00 Friday morning, arrive in Kanawha County, W. Va. that night; spend Saturday visiting family, friends and a few local hangouts; and ride back on Sunday (stretching the ride back into Monday, if necessary). The trip is about 750 miles each way.

The thing is, the most I have ever ridden in a day is 426 miles total, with five leisurely stops, and that was without a passenger. The most Anna has ever ridden on the back of my bike in a day is about 200 miles total, again with rather long breaks. The most miles I have ever ridden continuously (without a break) is about 150. It's worth noting that my bike does not have a windshield, which takes some of the fatigue from highway riding.

"Okay, question: Can we ride a motorcycle 800 miles; rest and hang out for a day; and then ride back 800 miles?" Anna asked on her Facebook page. I posed a similar question on www.harley-davidsonforums.com.

While some bikers have ridden 600, 700, 800 and even 1,000 miles in one day (which earns Ironbutt status), many consider 300-400 miles a day, maybe 500, the upper limit for riding in reasonable comfort, we found out.

A Wisconsin member on the Harley forum wrote, "We just did a 1,000 mile trip, two-up on a Fatboy fully loaded with saddle bags and a backrest bag. We did it in four days, with our longest day being just under 350 miles. I think we could have done 500 in a day with a better seat and a little cooler weather. We also took a two-day break in the middle while we visited friends. It would have been nice to spend an extra two days with friends if we would have made the full 500 in a day, each way. But my wife's longest riding day prior had been about 200. So in the long run, she was much happier that we split it up into shorter days."

He added: "Now, if I had a geezer glider and she had the full queen seat with armrests and all, that would change the whole picture. But on a stock Fatboy, 300-400 a day with two people was enough for us."

Rossco, a biker from Montreal, wrote: "A single 750-mile day is totally doable, but I wouldn't want to be a passenger for it (or have a passenger for it)."

Our friend, Andy Beaulieu, recently rode with his wife Kathy from Rhode Island to Ohio. He said he made the 600-mile trip in about 12 hours. "We decided to travel during daylight for safety, but if we HAD to do 800 miles, we could have done it. After this ride, I have no doubt that I could do the 1,000 miles in 24 hours ... but why?" Andy rides a Honda Gold Wing, which is designed for touring.

After soliciting opinions from more seasoned riders, I felt more comfortable with riding about 400 miles the first day, staying overnight, and doing the remaining 350 or so miles the next day. Andy agreed that was a better plan than trying to push 750 miles in a day, even if the weather totally cooperated. But Anna only has four days off, so taking two days up and two days back leaves no time to do anything in West Virginia.

While I have enough money for gas and a discount motel room, I don't really have any contingency funds available if my bike broke down during the trip. But, in the end, lack of time appears to have scuttled the trip, at least for now. Instead, we will probably do a long day trip on Friday and some shorter rides this weekend.

(County map of West Virginia courtesy of www.geology.com - this is a cool site with many different types of state maps!)

Fifth Annual Ride for Corinna's Angels

2010-07-19T13:37:00.030-04:00

Ideal weather Sunday graced the 5th annual Ride for Corinna's Angels, which raised funds to help fight Spinal Muscular Atrophy, a leading genetic cause of infant deaths. The ride, named in honor of Corinna Calise, a local child who suffers from the most serious form of SMA, attracted at least 60 motorcycles.

The ride started at the Kelly Gazzero VFW Post on Plainfield Street in Cranston. A contingent from our Romans 8 Riders Chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association

met at a nearby McDonalds prior to the ride's registration,which began at 9:30 a.m. Led by our Romans 8 president, Spike, 13 people attended from our chapter, plus Cathilee DeLorto's dog, who nearly always rides on the motorcycle in a pack slung around Cathilee.

I was the last of the first 25 people to register, so I got a free ride tee shirt. Since passengers did not get free tee shirts, Bob

Levesque graciously gave his ride tee shirt to my girlfriend, Anna. We sat in the VFW hall, eating muffins, drinking coffee and waiting for more riders and passengers to register. Cathilee's dog gained many admirers, including Cranston Mayor Allan Fung, and Cathilee showed off her multiple Christian tattoos.

Before the ride kicked off at 11:00, Corinna viewed the motorcycles in the parking lot and chose three that would later be presented with a trophy. I saw Jerry Mello, a Yamaha Virago owner who I met at last year's ride (I also had a Virago then). Jerry's wife videotaped the start of the ride and posted it on his Facebook page, so this was the first ride I actually saw myself riding in ... that was cool.

There's nothing like the sound of dozens of Harleys roaring to life, and it

was obvious it really got Anna excited (okay, she made "vrrooom, vrrooom!!" sounds). Cranston police blocked traffic on busy Route 14 while the riders orderly exited the VFW hall's parking

lot, which has a steep, treacherous driveway with rough asphalt. Police blocked a few intersections early in the ride, but since much of the ride was in more rural territory, most of the blocking duties fell on a blocking team of about a half-dozen bikes among the pack. A couple of the blockers rode sport bikes, and I felt Anna jump in her seat, apparently startled as one of the crotch rockets zoomed passed us on the left to get to the front of the pack so he could block again. After the ride, Romans 8 vice president Roland Caron said he saw some of the blockers take chances by crossing the road's center line while going up a hill, unable to see if a car was coming. A few times, I made room for blockers to duck back into our double-line staggered formation.

The ride went through Cranston, Scituate and North Scituate, R.I., and into a couple of towns in eastern Connecticut, where we had a long rest stop with water and pizza waiting for us. We looped back toward Rhode Island, going through Foster and Glocester before making our way back to the VFW hall in Cranston. I will say I enjoyed the first half of the ride more than the second half. At the kickoff of the ride, riders were let loose in rows, in an orderly fashion. I also felt comfortable with the riders around me.

In contrast, getting back on the road after the break was more of a free-for-all. And although riders were instructed to ride in a staggered formation, rather than side-by-side, for safety reasons, a man and a woman (I'm assuming they were a couple, or knew each other) on separate bikes in front of me,

rode side-by-side and appeared to have conversations, which made me a bit nervous, since some swerving was necessary for potholes, manhole covers and blockers. Then a third rider, who was diagonally in front of me, seemed to have difficulty maintaining a steady speed and consistent distance from other bikes, so I hung back from all three of them and did my best to ride smoothly and consistently while keeping my eyes on them. All in all, there were no mishaps on the ride, to my knowledge.

My bike (nicknamed Annabelle) ran flawlessly. This was the first group ride since I changed the bike's exhaust system, air cleaner and carburetor jets, and the bike didn't sneeze or stumble even once. Also, the person riding behind me did not hang way back, which happened on the last group run, which I attribute to the fact that my bike still had straight pipes at the time. I guess Annabelle is less rambunctious now.

We returned to the VFW hall at 2 p.m., and by now, I was starving (I'd limited myself to once slice of pizza at the break). A deejay and Ozzy Osbourne impersonator, "Ozzy-Live" (who Jerry Mello said had donated his services) entertained us as we waited about an hour for the macaroni and meatballs with salad (thankfully, we were the first table called to the food line). Cathilee won one of the three Corinna's Choice trophies, although it was, presenters hinted, probably more due to her dog - which attracted many looks as the blockers rode by - than her motorcycle.

Before we left, Anna wanted me to take a photo of her with "Ozzy," so we approached him and he obliged. Anna blinked on the first photo, and "Ozzy" wanted to retake it anyway, because he wasn't sure if he "looked crazy enough" the first time.

Hogs and Hot Rods

2010-07-17T16:17:00.020-04:00

Last summer, my friend Pat, who rides a Dyna Low Rider, clued me into an annual summer event at Ocean State Harley-Davidson in Warwick, R.I. called "Hogs and Hot Rods,"

a show of classic and custom cars and motorcycles, with an oldies DJ and free hamburgers, hot dogs, soda and ice cream.

Even bikes that aren't in the show are often impressive, and it's fun to walk the parking lot and admire the bikes and see which modifications look good on bikes like yours.

Last year, I rode in on a Yamaha. This year, even though I own a Harley, I rode in on four wheels because I wanted to take my girlfriend Anna, and her son, Ricky, and I can't fit both of them on my bike (I could have, if I had a sidecar, like one of the bikes I saw today). Saturday's weather was ideal: sunny and in the 90s.

As soon as he heard the words "ice cream," Ricky, 10, dashed toward the ice cream booth, while Anna and I walked the parking lot, looking at motorcycles. Anna, who wants to learn how to ride a motorcycle, likes the

Fat Boy models, partly because they have a wide front tire. I focused on the Dyna Wide Glide and Softail Standard/Custom models, my favorites (of course, I'm biased, since I own a 2002 Wide Glide). I was looking at a Softail when a guy nearby said to me, "Nice bike, huh?" Turned out he was the bike's owner, and it was for sale, as he launched into a sales pitch.

Next, we met up with Ricky again, and the three of us looked at the classic and custom cars. I especially liked the 1969 Pontiac Firebird, and an early '70s Chevy Nova with super-wide rear tires. There were a few late-model Mustangs, plus an early-'70s Ford van customized with a nautical theme.

Anna and I got in line for a hamburger, hot dog, potato chips and soda, and we sat on a picnic table in the hot sun, while Ricky ate more ice cream. We went inside the dealership to cool off in the air conditioning. Anna sat on a new Sportster, which she felt she could handle (she is going to take her MSF basic rider course next month), and Ricky wanted to sit on several bikes, including an Electra Glide trike. At least he asked permission (from a guy at the parts counter) before sitting on the bike.

Going back outside, Anna and I got ice cream. It was Ricky's third stop at the ice cream booth, which did not go unnoticed by one of the girls serving up the ice cream. "Isn't this your third or fourth trip?" she questioned him with as stern a look as a high school aged girl can muster.

The three of us sat in the shade while we listened to the oldies deejay, and Ricky wanted to make a request, so he walked up to the deejay. I forget which song he wanted to hear, but the deejay told him he only had songs prior to 1980 - way before Ricky's time. After much back-and-forth, the deejay finally had a song Ricky requested: "ABC," by the Jackson Five. Yep, Hogs and Hot Rods - it's not just for bikers, but 10-year-olds as well.

Keeping It Fresh

2010-07-16T09:31:00.006-04:00

Being only in my second season of riding a motorcycle, I'm starting to feel a bit 'hemmed in'. In other words, I'm running out of new roads and places to explore, which is half the fun of riding. I live in Rhode Island, the smallest state in the U.S.A., so it's mostly a matter of geography. Also, I have lived in this state my whole life, so there are very few major roads that I have not been on, at least on four wheels.

Even if I have been down a particular road in a car or truck, that road becomes 'new' again the first time I ride it on a motorcycle. I see, hear and smell things that I did not notice driving in a cage. I'm more aware of road conditions. After three, four, perhaps five times down any given road, the novelty and newness begins to wear off, no matter how scenic the road.

Now, if I have a passenger on my bike, roads I've traveled several times before become new again, because you are sharing them with someone who is experiencing them for the first time on a motorcycle. For instance, I've ridden over the Jamestown bridge on a motorcycle several times, and it's still a thrill, but this past spring, I took my girlfriend Anna over that bridge on my Harley. She had not ridden on the back of a motorcycle in over a decade, so it was an extra-special experience for me and her. I also enjoy taking her down country roads I'm well-familiar with, pointing out items of interest along the way. Or, Anna points things out to me that I may have never noticed before. It's like seeing through a new pair of eyes.

Riding in a group is another way old, familiar roads can take on new life. As part of the Rhode Island Special Olympics, police actually block off an interstate highway for a motorcycle run from Johnston to the University of Rhode Island in Kingston for the opening ceremony. What an experience it must be traveling on a normally-busy highway and not having to contend with cars and tractor-trailers, but sharing the road with about 1,000 other motorcycles (unfortunately, I did not get to go on this year's run). Like riding with a passenger on the back of your bike, riding in a group of motorcycles adds a whole new dynamic to the ride, separate from the actual route.

Eventually, though, it all comes back to geography. Rhode Island is, well ... small ... and there aren't many long stretches of roads that aren't plagued with traffic congestion or road construction. I've already ridden much of eastern Connecticut. I'm going to have to ride increasingly farther and farther away from home if I want to discover new horizons.

Gimme Shelter

2010-07-08T12:20:00.005-04:00

Yesterday, I rode from South Kingstown to West Warwick to get my motorcycle inspected (I had bought it in Massachusetts, so it had never been inspected in Rhode Island). I decided to take Interstate 95, since I was in the mood for some highway riding. The weather was hot and sunny, a perfect day for riding, I thought, but I soon saw some dark clouds in the distance and realized there was a chance I'd get caught in some rain.

Just as I neared my exit, Route 3 in West Greenwich, rain began to fall on me, slowly at first, then heavier, so I took shelter under a gas station canopy. I was soon joined by another motorcyclist, a young man riding an older, 250 cc Suzuki. It was an isolated rain, and there were sunny skies approaching, so I figured I'd just wait it out.

I shot the breeze with the dude, and I told him his motorcycle looked similar to my first bike, a Yamaha Virago. He told me he had had another motorcycle, but it was totaled when a car rear-ended him and sent him flying over the handlebars (luckily, he landed on grass and was not seriously hurt, he said.) He wanted another motorcycle, but was short on cash, so he found this bike, which had the engine out of the frame, for free, and then brought it back to life. He said he was on his way to his boss' house to get his pay check when he got caught in the rain.

The rain began to let up after about five minutes and I pulled out of the gas station as steam rose from the blacktop. There was still plenty of standing water on Route 3 and the spray kicked up by cages and my front tire felt good against my jeans and tee shirt. A quick rain on hot pavement creates a unique smell, different from a longer rainfall. By the time I got five miles up the road, the pavement was dry.

I pulled into Adrenaline Rush Motorsports on New London Turnpike in West Warwick and saw Brenda and Charlie Nault, who were picking up Brenda's bike, which had just had its rear tire replaced. After a quick check of my bike's tires, brakes and lights, I received my state inspection sticker and was on my way back home. My bike's now fully legal - registered, insured and inspected.

Fellowship and Ice Cream

2010-06-28T10:17:00.006-04:00

Once a month, on a Sunday afternoon, a different member of the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association hosts a fellowship and potluck dinner at their home. These fellowships, which are in addition to our monthly business meeting, are an opportunity to get to know our brothers and sisters in Christ a little better; to discuss the latest modifications to our bikes; to encourage and support one another; and to enjoy the company of a great group of folks.

The monthly fellowships are a godsend during the winter months, when we are unable to ride, and provide a social event to look forward to. Of course, during the warmer months, the fellowships provide yet another opportunity to ride. This past Sunday was no exception. Anna and I ran into some of my fellow Romans 8 Riders at Christian Hill Community Church in West Warwick, R.I. They said some of them were meeting back at the church for a group ride, after the fellowship.

Romans 8 members Charlie and Brenda Nault graciously hosted our most recent fellowship this past Sunday, despite having been in a harrowing car accident only about a week before. They were driving on Interstate 195 in Massachusetts when their car was rear-ended by another vehicle, driven by a suspected drunk driver who police estimated to be traveling in excess of 100 mph, Brenda said. The impact lifted the Nault's vehicle off the ground before it landed on the front bumper, but miraculously, the Naults survived with only bruises and soreness for Brenda and a concussion and headaches for Charlie.

I took Anna on my motorcycle to the fellowship. Before arriving at the Naults' house, we stopped at an Italian bakery for a box of pizza strips, which Anna held, waitress-style, as she rode on the back of my bike. We pulled up next to some other motorcyclists at a stop light and I couldn't resist saying, "Pizza delivery!" to which they responded with a laugh.

Charlie cooked burgers and hot dogs on the grill while some of us lounged outdoors, while others preferred the air conditioned indoors. Pastor Joe made himself at home on the backyard hammock, while our Romans 8 president, Spike, talked to Manny about cams, a Power Commander and dyno tuning for Manny's Road King, which is out of commission currently. The long stretch of warm, sunny weather we've been enjoying lately has been torturing Manny.

"You watch - you'll know my bike is done when we get rain," joked Manny, who drove his car to the fellowship.

Manny and Spike wanted to see my bike with the new pipes and air cleaner, and I got favorable reviews from both of them.

There was also talk about the CMA's New England Rally which is scheduled for three days next month at a campground in Massachusetts. Roland Caron has offered to let me and Bob Levesque to stay in his travel trailer. I haven't decided yet if I'm going to stay all weekend, or just one day. God will work it out.

After the fellowship, Anna and I joined Romans 8 riders Andy Beaulieu and his wife, Kathy; Keith McGee; Tom Calci and his wife, Paula; and Bob Levesque, at the parking lot of Christian Hill. There was also a woman named Sandy, who rode an orange Road Glide, the only Harley besides mine. Andy led the group, and early in the ride, on Route 117 in Coventry, I saw a small black P.O.W. flag fall off Tom's bike onto the road. Keith went back to retrieve the flag while the group stopped and waited for him. Somehow, the flag's staff came unscrewed from its holder (I'm going to buy Tom a tube of Loctite for his birthday).

Andy took us out of Rhode Island and into Connecticut, where we rode on Route 49 through Sterling and Voluntown, Conn., a scenic road I have taken Anna riding on twice previously. We then rode on Routes 138 and 165, and a few smaller, winding roads. It was ideal riding weather, warm with hazy sunshine.

As we often do on rides, we stopped for ice cream, this time, at Buttonwood Farm Ice Cream on Route 165 in Griswold, Conn. I've driven and ridden by there many times, but had never stopped. Their ice cream is homemade, and, at $4 for a single scoop cone, kind of pricey, but very good. I ordered peach, Anna ordered Almond Joy. Bob Levesque won macho points for leaning on a garbage can covered with sticky ice cream residue, which grossed out some of the women and Tom, who didn't even want to touch the flapper door to the top of the can.

"They're just the right height for leaning on," Bob said.

One of the things I like most about June is that it stays light out relatively late. It was still dusk when we got back to the Coventry/West Warwick area around 8 p.m. But by the time I headed back to South County to garage my bike for the night, it was dark and foggy. Although the fog and fine drizzle forced me to remove my goggles and then eyeglasses in order to see, the coolness sure did feel good against my skin as I chugged home at 25 mph.

(The second and fourth photos were taken by Anna McCormick.)

Making It My Own: Part 3 - Air Cleaner and Tuning

2010-06-25T18:17:00.012-04:00

As was the case with my exhaust system, making a decision on which high-performance air cleaner to go with was a painstakingly slow decision. I kept browsing the J&P Cycles catalog, trying to find an air cleaner kit that would achieve both good looks and performance.

Just about any aftermarket air cleaner delivers better performance than the stock airbox, so the main issues are looks and cost. Some air cleaner kits sell for as much as $500, which is way more than I wanted to spend. I narrowed the finalists down to Arlen Ness Big Sucker and Doherty Machine Power Pacc. Of those two kits, the Doherty is more expensive (if you go with the PowerVent crankcase breather option), but my online research revealed nothing but stellar reviews of the Power Pacc kit. The backing plate is an extremely solid and finely-machined piece of billet aluminum, and the PowerVents add a nice dash of bling to the engine.

The instructions that came with the Doherty air cleaner kit were almost an afterthought (you would think the company would put as much effort into the instruction sheet as they did with their product); however, the kit is very intuitive and easy to install nevertheless.

Unlike the Arlen Ness kit, the Doherty kit does not include an air cleaner cover, although a plain chrome one can be ordered for $124 (way too much, in my opinion, for a plain cover). A chrome cover is mostly for appearance, though, since the gloss black painted air filter element retainer can act as a cover, as long as you use the buttonhead bolt to plug the center hole. The bike actually has a 'lean and mean' look without a chrome cover. One concern is that the air filter element could be exposed to rain, which, if heavy enough, could affect how the bike runs. You can install the stock 'football' or 'ham can' cover over the Doherty filter, and this would protect the filter from getting hit directly with rain, while still allowing plenty of airflow.

With the Vance & Hines exhaust pipes, my modified CV carb and the Doherty Power Pacc air cleaner all installed, I was ready for the moment of truth as I got ready to start my bike. I feared I would have difficulty starting it since the carb's float bowl was dry, but I only had to crank the starter about 10 seconds before the engine started. It actually started quite easily and idled well. Another big concern was exhaust leaks, but the gaskets had sealed well. I revved the engine and enjoyed the deep rumble from the Vance & Hines pipes.

I took a quick ride around my neighborhood to warm the engine up before fine-tuning the idle mixture screw, and immediately I noticed some differences, both in the way my bike sounds and the way it runs. The new pipes are a lot quieter when I am on the bike riding it. I could hear the normal top-end noises from my engine; my clutch lever rattling at idle; and another rattle, possibly from my backrest or luggage rack. I can also hear my gears shifting a lot more loudly now. And, I can hear the open-element air cleaner sucking air into the engine.

After a warm-up ride, I followed CV Performance's instructions for tuning the idle mixture. Using just my fingers, I turned the EZ-Just mixture screw in until the engine's idle speed began to slow, then I began to turn it out again in quarter-turn increments. I also adjusted the idle speed by ear, since I don't have a tachometer. The bike has a very smooth throttle response now, and I can feel more low and mid-range acceleration. It goes from 0-to-50 mph very quickly, and seemingly with very little effort. I did notice, though, that I sacrified some top-end performance. I imagine that is mostly due to no longer having open pipes, although for some reason, my throttle feels like it does not twist as far as it used to. It could simply be my imagination, but I will have to check my cables again to confirm my throttle is fully opening. But the best thing is that the bike has much better drivability. It seems to warm up faster, and I no longer have that annoying tendency to stumble every time I give it slightly more throttle.

It does sneeze through the carb occasionally when I roll on the throttle after a full stop, but I have been opening the idle mixture screw a few more times, and the sneezing is happening less and less often. I think I am at or near the 'sweet spot' of adjustment, since after my last adjustment, I get hardly any popping on deceleration, and the bike seems to coast down smoothly when I let off the throttle in gear.

Overall, the bike seems a lot more refined, even if I did lose some brute, full-throttle power. I am also getting used to the sound of the new pipes, which have a deep Harley rumble, and a low growl when I accelerate harder, although I can't make a bridge underpass echo like I used to, lol. My girlfriend Anna, actually liked the louder pipes, even though we can now talk to each other while riding. But, according to a guy I ride with sometimes, Tom Calci, who rides a Kawasaki, the new pipes are "still too loud" for his tastes. Just goes to show you can't please everyone when it comes to exhaust pipes, although most people like how the bike looks.

"She sure looks purty," Anna said in her southern drawl.

Making It My Own: Part 2 - Modifying the Carburetor

2010-06-24T16:52:00.001-04:00

Before I bought my Harley, some guys I ride with tried to steer me toward getting a bike with fuel injection, but I was leaning toward getting a carbureted bike because it is simpler. Since I have trouble programming a VCR, I would rather fix something mechanical than computerized or electronic.

Some Harley owners ditch the stock carburetor for an S&S or Mikuni carb, but the factory Keihin CV carburetor is a simple, reliable, time-tested design that makes plenty of power for stock or slightly modified engines. The carburetors are set lean from the factory, due to EPA restrictions designed to reduce exhaust emissions. But, that results in drivabilty issues, such as the engine taking a long time to warm up; poor cold-weather performance; and an annoying tendency for the engine to stumble and 'cough' through the air cleaner when giving it a slight amount of throttle while cruising. This was a real bummer on group rides especially, and it also made me less confident riding the bike.

As always, I did a lot of online research before ordering a Stage 1 carburetor kit made by CV Performance (I ordered the kit through HarleyPerformance.com). Besides main and pilot jets, and hardware, the kit includes an improved-design slide needle, slide spring and emulsion tube. I also ordered the optional EZ-Just idle mixture screw, acclerator pump nozzle and a new fuel inlet elbow made by CV Performance. From my local Harley dealer, I bought a float bowl O-ring; a carburetor-to-intake rubber seal ring; and a chrome top cover to replace the stock black plastic cover. I also bought a couple feet of 1/4" rubber fuel hose. With a factory parts and service manual, plus the instruction sheet from CV Performance, I was good to go.

After replacing my exhaust system first, I removed the carburetor, which came off quite easily. I am blessed to rent an apartment with a clean, well-lit garage and a workbench and stereo. Using my 'shop,' I took my time and disassembled the carb, spraying it with carb cleaner as I went along. The CV carb really is a simple design and I had no problems taking it apart or putting it back together. The only "oh crap" moment I had was when the EZ Just idle mixture needle fell off the bench and landed on the concrete floor with a "ping," but it didn't appear to be bent or otherwise damaged, thank God. (The only other glitch was that the carb cleaner discolored the plastic enrichener knob, but I can always get a chrome cover for that.)

The job went quickly, since I was able to save a few steps. For instance, I did not need to drill out the plug that the factory uses to cover up the idle mixture screw, since someone already did it previously. Also, I decided to leave the stock fuel inlet elbow, since it was already an all-brass piece (some of the stock fuel elbows are part plastic). While the instructions with the CV Performance Stage 1 kit were adequate, I do have a complaint with that company because there were no instructions with the EZ-Just needle or the accelerator pump nozzle. I suppose the needle probably doesn't need instructions, since it just screws into the carb, but I decided to leave the stock accerator pump nozzle since the new nozzle had no directions and I had no clue how to remove the old nozzle.

When re-assembling the CV carb, perhaps the most critical part is making sure the slide diaphragm is not pinched. I used a bit of petroleum jelly (actually, stuff used for spark plug boots) to hold the diaphragm in place, and it worked like a charm. After re-installing the carb and replacing the fuel hose, I struggled a bit reinstalling the throttle and idle cables, so I opened up the handlebar switch cover and disconnected the cables from the handgrip. I also used this opportunity to lube both cables, then adjusted them.

Next step: installing a high-performance air cleaner assembly.

Making It My Own: Part 1 - Exhaust System

2010-06-23T17:34:00.016-04:00

In stock form, a 2002 Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide is a pretty sweet motorcycle, with a 1,450 c.c. V-twin engine; wide, raked front forks; spoked wheels; mini ape hanger handlebars; and generous amounts of chrome. It also has a decent amount of power (especially for someone who previously rode a 535 c.c. bike).

The first owner owner of my Wide Glide, like most Harley owners, ditched the quiet, restrictive stock exhaust system for a set of drag pipes, also known as open pipes or straight pipes because they have no baffles. They are good for top-end horsepower, but rob low and mid-range torque, which is more useful on the street. They are rather loud (although loud is a relative term), but not obnoxiously so - at least not to me, but then again, I'm not taking the brunt of the sound on the bike. To me, they sound like a Harley should, with a nice 'crack' or 'backrap' when you roll off the throttle when accelerating through the gears at higher-rpm shift points. For me, that sound has been the essence of Harleys, and I sound I admired when I was much younger and had never even ridden or considered riding a motorcycle ... but I digress.

Nevertheless, the straight pipes did sound a bit 'blatty' or 'raspy' (for lack of better terms), and sounded tinny when using engine braking in a lower gear to go down a hill. I've also been avoiding certain communities, such as East Greenwich and Newport, R.I., which have regulations against loud motorcycle exhausts (when you come off the Newport Bridge, you are greeted by signs saying straight pipes on motorcycles are prohibited). Every time I approach a police car on the road, I've gotten into the habit of rolling off my throttle until I pass. And I've heard that motorcycles with straight pipes can annoy others on group rides, especially for riders behind you or to your right. Plus, as if I needed another excuse to change pipes, the heat shields on my straight pipes got scraped when I dropped the bike a few months ago and it was bothering me.

I spent the last several months researching exhaust systems. In some respects, it was a fairly easy decision. I knew I wanted a full exhaust system, not slip-on mufflers. Also, I knew I wanted to stay with a 2-2 system. Yes, a 2-1 system is more performance-oriented and will produce more low- and mid-range power, but I like the looks of a 2-2 system better. As for brands, I wanted to stick with a well-known brand such as Vance & Hines, Python or Samson. I did a lot of online searches for opinions on exhaust system brands, and read some negative reviews on Samsons (although in fairness, many people are happy with that brand). The reviews for Vance & Hines were nearly all positive. In the end, though, I based my final decision on looks, and I liked the clean lines of the Big Shots Staggered exhaust system from Vance & Hines. They have slick-looking billet tips that can be positioned one of two directions (I chose the slash down). I also purchased the optional V&H "quiet baffles" after reading reviews that said the baffles that come with the Big Shots Staggered are pretty loud. The quiet baffles aren't really quiet, but they tone down the bark and give a nice, deep rumble, according to several people who have installed them. I ordered the pipes and baffles from DennisKirk.com and was happy with the service.

Being a perfectionist can be good and bad. Whenever I install a part or accessory on my Harley, I like to be prepared with all the little parts I need, or that I might even potentially need, before I begin. In this case, I bought new exhaust port gaskets (which I definitely needed); a new front exhaust flange (which I didn't really need, but bought for strictly cosmetic reasons because the chrome on the old one was starting to deteriorate); and new exhaust flange nuts (the old ones were rusty). I also bought some stainless-steel bolts to replace the cheaper zinc-plated ones that came with the V&H exhaust system.

I had most of the tools for this fairly simple job, but on a Harley, the lower rear exhaust flange nut is tough to reach with a wrench or socket. After trying several different wrench and socket combinations, I found a Sears Craftsman 1/4" drive, swivel-joint, six-point 1/2" socket that fit the bill. Three of the four nuts came loose easily, but the fourth nut (of course, the one hardest to reach) wouldn't budge, so I sprayed it with PB Blaster the night before and it came loose easily the next day.

Before installing the new V&H exhaust system, I had to install the quiet baffles. The baffles are held in by a single bolt, but, unfortunately, the bolts are obstructed by the heat shields, so the baffles cannot be changed while the pipes are on the bike. While I think the Vance & Hines pipes are good quality, I also think it's stupid that they are designed so that the baffles can only be changed with the pipes OFF the bike. All the company had to do was drill a small access hole in the heat shields ... but that probably would have cost the company a whopping extra $5 in production costs, for pipes that cost about $500 retail ... okay, rant over. The quiet baffles come with fiberglass packing that is taped on, but I took the advice of other Harley owners who wrapped wire around the fiberglass to hold it in place so it would not bunch up when the baffles were inserted into the pipes. That worked like a charm.

I tackled the job on Tuesday. Removing the drag pipes from the bike was easy.

I used an O-ring pick to remove the old exhaust port gaskets, and applied anti-seize compound to the exhaust studs. I installed the exhaust support bracket supplied with the V&H system, and, after putting the heat shields on the pipes it was time to install the system. It was not too awkward putting the pipes on by myself, although I'm sure an extra pair of hands would have made the job easier. As much as I was dying to hear how the bike sounded, I waited until the next day to start it, when I had finished modifying the carburetor and installing the new high-flow air cleaner.

Well, the new exhaust system with the quiet baffles are quieter, and, as anticipated, have a deeper tone and a nice rumble at idle and low rpm. At higher rpm, the pipes have a throaty roar. When I am riding on the bike, they do sound quiet,
and I can hear more engine noise (which might explain

why some bikers complain they are too quiet) but the pipes sound plenty loud when I am standing next to the bike. On my second test ride, they seemed to get a bit louder, maybe due to the fiberglass packing settling in. Overall, I am happy with the system, and it is the sound and appearance I wanted to achieve. Plus, it will be nice to not have to wear ear plugs on longer highway rides and not have to avoid riding through certain places for fear of getting busted for loud pipes.

Third Annual Ride for Tomorrow

2010-06-19T19:05:00.014-04:00

The annual Ride for Tomorrow was one of my first large motorcycle charity runs last year. In memory of Mariah Burda, a 14-year-old girl who died of cancer in 2007, the event benefits The Tomorrow Fund, which provides financial and emotional support for patients and their families at Hasbro Children’s Hospital. Last year's run left me with many good memories, so I was greatly anticipating this year's event - even more so, now that I have someone special to share it with - my girlfriend Anna.

God blessed us with perfect riding weather - clear skies, temps in the 80s and calm - as Anna and I left South Kingstown around 8:15 yesterday morning. Neither Cameron nor Duke, my fellow Romans 8 Riders who live in South County, were able to attend, so it looked like we would be riding solo to our rendezvous point at our Romans 8 chapter president Spike's house in Seekonk, Mass. But, as we were riding north on Interstate 95 in Warwick, we spotted two motorcycles belonging to Romans 8 members Bob Levesque and Cathilee DeLorto (who usually rides with her little dog), so we joined them and got to ride to Spike's with a group after all.

At Spike's, we were joined by his wife, Pam; Roland Caron and his wife, Sue; Bob Morra; and Paul Clement, a member of the Combat Veterans Association who sometimes rides with us. After praying, we rode to the ride's starting point, Mildred H. Aitken Elementary School in Seekonk, to register for the ride, set up our tent with Christian Motorcyclists Association literature and prepare to bless motorcycles. We arrived sometime before 10 a.m., signed a release form and got a ride T-shirt and rubber bracelet. Cathilee and Bob ended up not going on the run with us. Cathi-Lee caught a screw in her front tire, and Bob's back was hurting.

Over the next couple hours, motorcycles gradually streamed in and filled the semi-circular driveway in front of the school. At a rough guess, I'd say there were about 100 motorcycles. The guys who were organizing and leading the ride asked to have their bikes blessed, and I got to pray over one of their bikes belonging to a guy named Kenny, which I had asked to do since we share the same first name. Later, a couple came to our CMA tent and asked to have their bike blessed, so several of us walked over to their bike, a blacked-out Dyna.

Then, Bob Levesque, who knows Anna wants to learn to ride a motorcycle, spotted an ideal beginner's bike for her - a 250 cc Hyosung Aquila, owned by a woman named Christine. Anna walked over and began talking to Christine, who started out riding on the back of her husband Kyle's bike. Two years ago, she took a motorcycle safety course, got her license, bought the Aquila and has been riding it since.

Anna and I got into conversation with Christine and Kyle as Anna admired her bike. I have to give Anna credit for being observant, as she noticed that neither of their bikes had been blessed. Our CMA tent had been packed away by now, but when I didn't say anything, Anna persisted, "Baby, YOU should bless their bikes!"

I have never blessed a bike on my own before (usually, I am with at least one or two of my CMA brothers and sisters), so that was why I was a bit hesitant, but I thank God for Anna for helping me to get out of my comfort zone that day. After sharing the gospel of salvation and blessing each of their bikes, we chatted some more. Suddenly, we heard motorcycle engines starting. The ride was scheduled to begin at noon, and we had lost track of time. I had parked my bike toward the head of the pack and we were not close to it, so Anna and I sprinted to my bike. (Last year, I was also caught unprepared for the start of the ride, and almost ended up getting left behind, so I didn't want to repeat that scene.) We made it to my bike and quickly put on our goggles and helmets, and I started my bike with maybe 30 seconds to spare before the ride took off. That was a close one!

The ride ran smoothly for the most part. I was toward the front of the pack, with only about a half-dozen bikes in front of me. We had the benefit of police blocking traffic at several major intersections, and at the less-busy intersections, the first few bikes took turns blocking traffic. I wasn't sure of the route we took, but I imagine we rode through at least a few towns in Massachusetts (I only remember seeing a sign that said Dighton), on a mix of back roads, country roads and state roads, some smooth, some bumpy, some flat, some hilly, with a good mix of curves thrown in.

One of my favorite things about large motorcycle runs is that people standing in their yards or driveways often wave to us as we ride by. I especially remember an elderly woman who was rather excited to have us ride by. She put out her thumb, as if hitchhiking. "I think she wants a ride, baby!" Anna said.

My motorcycle ran well, and because it was warm, it didn't have that annoying tendency to stumble whenever I slightly twisted the throttle. However, much of the ride was at speeds between 30 and 35 mph, which had me constantly shifting back and forth between third and fourth gears. Anna complained that she was sliding back and forth on my seat. She though I was riding less smoothly than usual, but I thought I was riding the same, and I told her it must be because I recently put some vinyl conditioner on my seat. After the ride, I asked Roland, who rode behind me, to my left, how my riding was, and he said I did great. "It's funny you should ask," Roland said, "because I was going to tell you your riding has improved 200 percent."

As I mentioned, the ride went smoothly most of the way, until we reached Taunton Avenue in East Providence, a four-lane road in a busy commercial area (on a Saturday, no less). We had no police blocking traffic there, and there were a few awkward moments as cars tried to break into our group. I saw the exasperated expression on one man's face as he was about to pull out, then stopped, realizing he was in for a long wait while a huge pack of motorcycles rode by. At one point, an SUV came pretty close to Paul Clement, who was up front, sharing in the blocking duties. I saw Paul pull up next to the driver's door of the SUV and stop, and he appeared to be saying something to the SUV driver, so later, I asked Paul if the two had exchanged words.

"Oh, a few," Paul said, shaking his head. "He asked me if I owned the road."

East Providence (as do many parts of Rhode Island) had some particularly rough roads, so thankfully, we soon reached our ride destination, Houlihan's Tavern on the River, where food, a band and a raffle awaited us. By the time we parked and dismounted, some of the riders were already quenching their thirst with a cold beer. After riding about two hours on a hot summer day, I was a bit dehydrated and a cold beer sounded good, but I opted for a bottled water instead. Inside, two waitresses tried to offer Jello shots, but I declined, telling one of them that I've been sober for one year and four months. As much as the beer tempted me with my parched throat, Anna, who is trying to quit smoking, was tempted by several people smoking outdoors.

We got in the food line for burgers, beans, macaroni salad and cole slaw, and sat in a room with a view of the water. Cathilee, who had ridden her bike home, drove her car to Houlihan's to join us there. Romans 8 members Tony Calci and his wife Judy also joined us there.

As we awaited our 'second course' of roasted pig, Anna and I browsed the tables of raffle prizes. Normally, I don't buy raffle tickets, but that day, I had bought several, including the 50/50 raffle and the prize raffle, where you could somewhat

choose your prizes by dropping tickets into containers placed next to each prize. Anna and I decided not to wait for the drawing, so, after getting lost briefly on East Providence side streets, we got back on the highway and headed home.

That day, I rode two-up; ate two courses; and, I found out after I got home, won two raffle prizes: tickets for a Pawtucket Red Sox game, and a barbecue grill kit, which will come in handy since I am rebuilding a gas grill.

(The first two photos were taken by Paul Clement.)

Rediscovering Priorities

2010-06-18T16:10:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking about my motorcycle a lot these past several weeks, but I haven't been riding it a lot. I can't really blame the weather; although we've had more clouds than sun lately, it's June and certainly warm enough for enjoyable riding. And my work has slowed down the last couple weeks (I'm self-employed).

Truth be told, I've been spending a fair amount of time buying parts and accessories for my bike, including a Vance & Hines full exhaust system; a Doherty Machines high-performance air cleaner; and a carburetor modification kit from CV Performance. Besides these planned mods, I've been running around getting countless little parts like gaskets, clips and specialty tools I will need to install the above parts.

A stock Harley is like a blank canvas waiting to be customized. Even in stock form, my bike, the Dyna Wide Glide, has a generous amount of chrome, but there's something about owning a Harley that makes you want to "make it your own." The previous owner kept it mostly stock, with a few upgrades, including a touring seat, drag pipes and a sport windshield. Now it's my turn to customize it. Right now, I'm focusing on functional upgrades, but I would like to make some strictly cosmetic upgrades as well.

As much as I have the urge to do it all at once, my finances won't allow that, so I browse through catalogs and online, planning and researching future upgrades for my motorcycle. But today, I realized that my priorities are starting to go astray. I mean, it's peak riding season, yet I haven't ridden my bike in over a week! I bought the bike to ride it, not turn it into a show bike, but my character flaw of being a perfectionist was starting to take over. I don't have to wait to turn my bike into the "perfect" bike before I ride it. Like me, it's a work in progress.

So today, I hopped on the bike for a ride to Westerly, with the purpose of stopping at a certain hardware store to look for a particular tool. It was sunny, warm and I wasn't working, so I had no excuse. I'd almost forgotten how my cares and concerns just melt away while I'm riding. It's just me and the bike, God and nature, and I'm living in the moment. My only concerns are other motorists. It's a zen-like state, with only the sound of the wind rushing past my ears and the V-twin engine throbbing between my legs ... pure bliss.

The hardware store did not have the tool I was looking for, so I was a bit bummed out, but only for a little while. As my girlfriend Anna says, "It's not the destination, it's the ride." And I truly felt blessed to be able to ride today.

2010 Oakland Beach Bike Blessing

2010-06-06T19:05:00.000-04:00

God's plans survive minor (or major) setbacks. A good example was the second annual bike blessing at Oakland Beach (dubbed "CMA by the Bay"), sponsored by the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association.

With skies alternately sunny and overcast, the threat of rain or thunderstorms loomed large, and a strong wind whipped off the bay throughout the day. The unpredictable weather undoubtedly reduced the number of motorcyclists who would otherwise be out riding on a Sunday in June, but as our chapter president, Spike, said, God is in control and whoever is meant to be here, will come.

Last year's inaugural event featured vendors and Christian rock bands. Although the bands returned this year, the vendors opted out because of stricter requirements from the city of Warwick. Also, this year, the city failed to unlock the public bathrooms at the park. Nevertheless, a fair number of motorcyclists who rode the one-way loop around the beach decided to enter the park to get their bikes blessed.

As I did last year, I posted myself at the entrance gate to the park, waving at passing cars and trucks, and asking any motorcyclists if they wanted their bikes blessed. If so, I directed them inside the gate. I called my job title 'greeter,' but my girlfriend Anna, who stopped by to accompany me, said I was a 'fisher of men.'

"Go get 'em, baby!" she said every time a motorcycle approached.

I really like being a greeter at this blessing. Besides getting to listen to some great Christian rock, it feels good to be part of a team - Jesus' team. I have only blessed a few bikes, and it is something I want to do more of, but as a relatively new Christian, I figured at this event, I could best serve by bringing the bikes in, and letting my more mature brothers and sisters in Christ do the blessings and share the gospel of salvation.

Not everyone driving by shared my enthusiasm. Some bikers declined my invitation to get their bikes blessed, and some motorists ignored my friendly wave. Before I was a Christian, rejection would have bothered me, but not now. I approached my job with the attitude that God loves every person, and wants every person to be saved through his son, Jesus Christ. I was simply extending the love of Christ.

Anna and her 10-year-old son, Ricky, are getting bitten by the motorcycle bug, and it bit both of them strongly at this event. As much as Anna enjoys riding as a passenger on my Harley, lately, she has been talking about learning how to ride her own motorcycle, and today, she saw a Honda Rebel 250 she liked. The woman who owned it let Anna sit on the bike. "I can balance this!" Anna said.

Ricky tried on my helmet and goggles and, at one point, I caught him sitting on Bob Levesque's motorcycle, a Kawasaki. I wasn't sure if he had asked permission, but Bob said he had let him. Now Ricky is hounding me for a ride.

Some motorists and pedestrians slowed down or stopped to get a closer look or listen at what was going on. One man driving by slowed to a crawl, as the band, 4 A Cross, played a Pink Floyd tune ... perhaps the Christian lyrics threw him off.

The Ultimate Sacrifice

2010-06-01T01:13:00.000-04:00

For many, Memorial Day weekend signals the unofficial start of summer. Some people look forward to retail sales, cookouts or simply having three days off from work. But the real purpose of Memorial Day is to honor those Americans who lost their lives while serving in our military.

Anna and I decided to attend a different church on Sunday, Quidnick Baptist Church in Coventry, R.I., because we know its pastor, Joseph T. Campbell. Pastor Joe is also a member of the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association. For his sermon, Pastor Joe read from Psalm 144, sometimes referred to as the 'soldiers' psalm.'

"Praise be to the Lord my rock, who trains my hands for war, my fingers for battle. He is my loving God and my fortress, my stronghold and my deliverer, my shield, in whom I take refuge, who subdues people under me." (Psalm 144, vs. 1-2)

U.S. soldiers, past and present, willingly put their lives on the line so that we may enjoy several freedoms, including freedom of speech and freedom of religion. There is no greater sacrifice than to lay down one's life for another.

Just as soldiers have died for our freedom, Jesus also willingly sacrificed His life on the cross so that mankind may have eternal life. "That if you confess with your mouth, 'Jesus is Lord,' and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved." (Romans 10:9).

Don't Ride Angry!!!

2010-05-21T13:50:00.000-04:00

The ability to anticipate danger on the road is an important driving skill in a car or truck, but becomes a much more crucial skill for those who ride motorcycles. The Motorcycle Safety Foundation's Basic Rider Course, which I completed about two years ago, emphasized the importance of visually scanning the road ahead for potential traffic dangers.

Sometimes, there is an unseen, or "sixth" sense that helps us riders anticipate trouble, which Canajun, a fellow motorcycle blogger, wrote about in his recent post titled, "Listen to that voice in your ear ...." Even while driving my cage, there have been many times that I 'sensed' another driver was about to cut into my lane, several seconds before they actually did. Maybe they seemed jumpy or fidgety, and I sensed they were about to make an abrupt lane change. Whatever the case, my being ready for such a possibility, by slowing down or changing lanes, has averted many close calls, if not accidents.

Riding under the influence of alcohol greatly increases the chances of an accident, but there are other factors that can impair one's ability to ride safely, such as hypothermia, being dehydrated or being tired.

But one factor is often overlooked - the emotional factor. My MSF handbook includes emotions as an impairment. "It is not easy to determine the personal effects of emotions on riding, but experts recognize that feeling angry, troubled or stressed makes safe, responsible riding more difficult," the handbook states. "Any emotion that distracts your attention away from being fully attentive ... will increase risk."

In his most recent blog entry, Canajun wrote that our sixth sense or "little voice" inside our heads that can keep us out of trouble is fragile. "The slightest impairment, whether caused by exhaustion, stress, alcohol, drugs, or even an overabundance of testosterone, will see it shut down and go into hibernation, leaving the rider without that most important yet usually over-looked defence."

His blog, posted on Tuesday, was timely, because the day before that, I had a wake-up call that drove that point home. I thank God I didn't have to learn the hard way, as I am still here typing on my keyboard.

I had a very frustrating day at work, the kind of day that, in the past, I would have downed a 12-pack of beer to drown my frustration (fortunately, I didn't ride back then). But, having been sober for nearly a year and a half, drinking my stress away is no longer an option.

Now that I ride, I have another option to cope with a stressful day. But, perhaps, I was a little TOO stressed to be on my motorcycle. I went riding around 4 p.m., when the afternoon rush was peaking and there were still school buses. Tired of riding at 25 mph, I sought a road with higher speed limits, Route 2. I rode on Route 2 North through South Kingstown and Exeter, and life was good, until I stopped for a red light at the intersection with Route 102. I waited and waited and waited for the light to turn green so I could turn left, but the light did not change. Apparently, my bike would not trigger whatever sensor or mechanism that makes the light change, and there were no cars behind me to trigger it either. My frustration began to mount and I had to get moving, so I decided to make a right turn on red onto Route 102 South. But, I did it at nearly full-throttle. Now, that is bad enough, but there was a long line of traffic heading north on 102, approaching that intersection, plus a convenience store.

Somehow, I barely made out the top of the roof of a car that was attempting to pull out of the convenience store, sneak through two lanes of backed-up traffic on the nortbound side, and pull into the southbound lanes, where I was rapidly accelerating. I am guessing I was going between 50 and 60 mph before I let off the throttle and jammed on my brakes. The young female driver of that car had not yet pulled out onto my lane, but - if she had been less cautious and did pull out ahead of me - chances are very good I would not be typing this now, but in a hospital bed or worse. It wasn't technically a close call or a near-miss, but it could very easily have turned into a tragedy, and my "overabundance of testosterone," as Canajun puts it, was solely to blame.

2010 Laconia Prayer Ride

2010-05-17T21:41:00.000-04:00

Admittedly, I was not well prepared for this trip. On Friday, the day before the ride, I installed a windshield on my bike. It was on my bike when I bought it, but I had taken it off because I hated how it looked. But, with a lot of highway riding ahead of me, it would be nice to have a windshield, I reasoned. Fortunately, I was smart enough to take a test ride with the windshield on Friday night, rather than waiting until the day of my trip to New Hampshire. The low windshield took the strain off my upper body alright, but caused so much turbulence on my helmet and goggles that I felt like a bobble-head, so I removed the shield.

Anna wanted to come on this trip, but, as of 9:00 Friday night, was unable to confirm a babysitter, despite trying for several days. Since this was a long trip, there was uncertainty as to when we would return to Rhode Island, so we decided she would sit this one out.

Saturday morning, I was off to a late start. I was slightly panicked as I rode alone to our first rendezvous point at the Lincoln Mall McDonald's, but I arrived in time. A group comprised of 10 members of our Romans 8 Riders chapter, plus some members of the Kingdom Kruzers chapter, rode up Route 146 north into Massachusetts, then on to Interstates 290, then 495, then 93 into New Hampshire, to our next rendezvous point at the Tilt'n Diner, in Tilton, N.H.

The weather was fairly warm and partly-to-mostly sunny, but windy, and after getting pelted with sand, I resolved to make a larger windshield my next upgrade. More so than wind, though, pollen was my nemesis. I forgot to take an antihistamine, so my nose and eyes constantly watered, and, every time we stopped, I had sneezing fits. Sue Caron even noticed that one of my eyelids was swollen.

Tilt'n Diner was where members of several chapters of the Christian Motorcyclists Association converged for lunch before riding to Laconia. I sat at the counter of the 1950s-style diner next to Ed Kershaw, who recommended the turkey sandwich with stuffing and cranberry sauce. After finishing the sandwich, Ed told our waitress it was excellent. "It's just like Thanksgiving," he remarked.

"Without having to deal with the in-laws," I quipped, eliciting a laugh from Ed.

Tilt'n Diner sits at a busy intersection just off the highway, but police blocked traffic as our group of about 50 motorcycles left the diner. Police also stopped traffic at several intersections, making for a smooth ride to Laconia, where we parked at a Methodist church, just a short walk to Winnipesaukee Pier, where we formed two circles and prayed for God to prepare the hearts of CMA members and bikers who would be attending Laconia Bike Week next month. "Our best testimony as Christians is our witness what Jesus has done in our lives," one female CMA member said. After a briefing back at the church, the CMA chapters split up for their respective rides home.

Romans 8 Riders vice president Roland Caron wanted to see his son, Jeff, who was at a truck show at Hampton Beach, N.H., so we agreed to take a side trip there, instead of riding straight back to Rhode Island. We rode east on some scenic roads, and some congested roads. While we were stopped underneath an overpass, I couldn't resist revving my bike to hear the roar of the open pipes echoing. Manny's wife, Denise, turned around and smiled, and Bob Levesque said, "That sounds like Pastor Joe's pipes," referring to Joe's old Sportster, the Red Baron, which was prematurely retired after it was rear-ended by a car (Joe was okay). We also rode through some rotaries en route to Hampton Beach, an oceanfront resort town, where we had to stop and turn around a couple times before we found the location of the truck show, at a beach front state park.

After Roland's son met us in the parking lot, we rested in the beach pavilion and quenched our thirst with some sodas. No Romans 8 Riders road trip would be complete without a stop for lunch or dinner (today we had both), so our next major decision was where we would eat dinner. At first, the group decided on a seafood restaurant in Hampton Beach, but when we found it, it was apparently out of business. We then decided to get on the highway and stop at an Applebee's restaurant in Seabrook, N.H.

By the time we finished dinner, it was dusk. We decided to return on Interstate 95, but our group got separated in traffic on Route 128 before we were due to split off. Fortunately, the people in the group that was behind - Cameron, me, Bob Levesque and Ed - were riding into Rhode Island together anyway. After having had dinner and some coffee, I felt slightly refreshed, but my fatigue quickly caught up with me on the highway. My helmet felt heavy on my head, and the ride home seemed like it was taking forever. But once we reached the East Street exit in Dedham, Mass. (where my uncle lives), I knew where I was and had a reference point, which gave me a psychological boost. We caught a brief rain shower after exiting onto Interstate 95 in Norwood, Mass., but it passed quickly. The four of us rode to Interstate 295 south, where there was less traffic, and then Bob and Ed exited onto Route 14. Cam and I continued riding on 295 and then 95 south, exiting onto Route 138 in Richmond.

I arrived home after 10:30 p.m., having logged a total of 426 miles that day - my personal record to date. Plus, I get to add a new state to the small, but growing list of states I've ridden in (see the map at the bottom of my blog).

Saying Farewell to My First Bike

2010-05-10T12:53:00.000-04:00

I'd been postponing it for several weeks, but yesterday, I finally sold my 1987 Yamaha Virago 535. Although I haven't ridden the Virago much since buying my 2002 Harley-Davidson Wide Glide earlier this year, part of me was reluctant to part with the Yamaha. Call me sentimental ... after all, it was my first bike and served me well as a newbie rider.

I bought the Virago in February 2009, with only 3,015 miles on the odometer, for $1,000. The one-owner bike still had the original tires, but they were dry-rotted, so I immediately spent another $400 to put new tires on it. I then proceeded to ride the daylights out of it as soon as I registered it, even though it was cold that March. I put about 6,500 miles on it by the end of last year, and added a passenger backrest and luggage rack to the bike.

When I bought my Harley at the beginning of this year, I had two bikes parked side-by-side in my garage. At first, I thought I might keep the Yamaha as a backup or 'spare' bike, but then I figured that selling the Yamaha would fund some nice upgrades to my Harley. The latter thought won out.

After replacing a broken turn signal and mirror on the Yamaha about a month ago, I began the process of detailing the bike. I always took good care of it mechanically, but let's just say I spent more time riding it than cleaning it. I think I washed it maybe twice last riding season. So about two weeks ago, I began the detailing process with a good washing. I worked on the bike an hour or two at a time over the last several days, polishing the paint and chrome, cleaning the wheels and spokes and using a product called "Back to Black" by Mothers to renew black plastic and rubber parts. Then I rode the bike to a parking lot to take the digital photos I would use in the Craigslist ad.

I first posted my ad on Wednesday and got no response. I re-posted the ad on Friday, with the same asking price, $1,500. This time, I got three responses by email and another three by phone, but no one made firm plans to actually look at the bike. So, I rode it to my girlfriend Anna's house Friday night, since it was a nice night and I was overdue for a ride. Being a thoughtful guy, I brought an extra helmet, figuring she would want to go for a quick, local ride.

"I'm so much closer to you on this bike," said Anna, who is used to riding on the back of my much-larger Harley instead.

On Saturday, I got a call from a guy named Geoff, who seemed interested in the bike and wanted to see it. It had rained pretty heavily overnight, so I was still at Anna's house. I had Geoff meet me at a nearby Walgreens parking lot that afternoon. Luckily, by then, the rain had stopped and it was beginning to clear up. Geoff arrived with his girlfriend, who was just learning how to ride a motorcycle. She sat on the bike and liked that her feet easily touched the ground. Geoff, an experienced rider, had brought his helmet and I let him take my bike for a short ride. He liked how the bike handled, and after his girlfriend gave the thumbs-up, said he wanted to buy it.

I had them follow me as I rode the bike back to my apartment late Saturday afternoon. By now, the sun was out and it was rather pleasant riding. But it was a bittersweet ride, because I knew it was probably the last time I would be on the Yamaha. I rode it leisurely, enjoying the smooth, quiet predictability of Japanese engineering, in contrast to the blustery, less-refined Big Twin power of the Harley. Two different animals, indeed.

Back at my place, where I had all the paperwork for the bike, including the owner's manual, repair manual and service history (Geoff was impressed that I kept detailed records), I was just about to complete the bill of sale, when Geoff pulled out a check book, to my surprise. I had just assumed he would bring cash, so I followed him to an ATM, where he withdrew some cash and gave me a deposit until he could return the next day with the rest of the cash.

Geoff and his girlfriend returned yesterday afternoon, and I made sure everything was ready to go, down to checking the tire pressure. We talked for several minutes about the bike, and he sensed I was having a bit of separation anxiety.

"Sad to see it go?" Geoff asked.

"A little bit," I replied.

A few minutes later, I watched him as he rode the bike down my driveway and onto the street. It reminded me of when I used to visit my grandmother, and she always watched me drive away, visibly sad to see me go.

But, I did feel better selling the bike to people who are into motorcycles. Geoff said that after his girlfriend outgrows the bike, he will probably keep it for his daughter, who also wants to learn to ride someday.

25th Annual R.I. Blessing of the Bikes

2010-05-09T23:50:00.000-04:00

I had heard about this event, billed as the largest bike blessing in New England, but was unable to attend last year. So, this year, I made it a point to attend. Let's just say anyone who rides a motorcycle should experience it at least once.

The event, organized by the Rhode Island chapter of the Hells Angels motorcycle club, is held in a large trucking yard on Shipyard Street, near the Port of Providence. According to the club's web site, more than 6,500 motorcycles and about 9,000 people attended the event on Sunday, May 2. In addition to the blessing, there were food and merchandise vendors, caterers and a band.

It was an opportunity to see all kinds of motorcycles - from Harleys to metrics, stock to custom - as well as colors of several motorcycle clubs from in and out of state. Being my first time at this event, I had no idea what to expect. I'd heard my brothers in the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association describe the event, but hearing it described and seeing it in person are two different things. For some reason, I thought our CMA chapter would be blessing bikes, but that was not the case. I didn't get to see the actual blessings, but I was told that a priest sprinkles holy water on the bikes as they ride by him.

Around 8 that morning, I met our Romans 8 Riders chapter president, Spike, and a few other chapter members on Allens Avenue before we rode to the blessing site to set up our tent among the vendors. It was overcast, windy and cool, but it became warmer and sunny by noon, which accounted for a bigger turnout than recent years, which had less than ideal weather, I was told.

Being one of New England's biggest bike events next to Laconia, the Blessing of the Bikes is like a reunion of sorts for bikers throughout the northeast, said my Romans 8 Riders brother, Cam. Friendships are developed as people see each other at these events over the years.

Although our CMA chapter does not bless the bikes at this event, just being allowed to set up a tent there with Christian literature a few years ago was significant, Spike said. In our earlier years there, CMA's presence was greeted with scorn by some attendees, I was told. But over time, consistent attendance earned respect and built relationships. Members of different motorcycle clubs greeted us and spoke with us, and I everyone I encountered while walking the grounds was respectful.

Throughout the day, members of our CMA chapter, as well as other chapters, stopped by our tent. In between enjoying conversation with my CMA brothers, I talked with a man who stopped by our tent who told me he has been sober for nearly eight years. I shared my testimony with him, telling him how my divorce led to my decision to become sober, which, for me, paved the way for me to begin a relationship with Jesus Christ.

In the background, I could hear the constant rumbling of motorcycles that sounded like never-ending thunder. Occasionally, I left the tent to walk around and view the vendors' booths or seemingly endless rows of parked motorcycles. I also enjoyed an excellent barbecued pork sandwich. But, as a first-time attendee, the most memorable part of the event for me was watching the continuous parade of motorcycles entering the gates and proceeding down Shipyard Street. My only regret was deciding to leave my camera at home.

Run for the Son Ride to Living Stone

2010-05-06T18:30:00.000-04:00

To say I was excited about the Christian Motorcyclists Association's annual Run for the Son ride this year was an understatement. Anticipation for the run, which was Saturday, began about mid-week, when I saw the weather was supposed to be sunny and in the 70s. Even better news - my girlfriend, Anna, got a babysitter for her son, so she would be able to ride with me! On Friday, I got my bike ready: I washed it, gave the tins a quick polish and installed a luggage rack and roll bag, which would be perfect for a day trip. I also packed a lunch and essentials like sunscreen, digital camera and handy wipes.

This time, I was actually prepared the morning of the ride and was able to just hop on the bike without the stress of wondering if I would forget to bring something, or if I would be late. I rode to the commuter parking lot on Route 102 in North Kingstown, where Anna was waiting, and we were joined by my CMA/Romans 8 Riders brother Duke for the ride up to our first rendezvous point, the Dunkin Donuts at routes 6 and 102 in Scituate. This would be Anna's first time riding on the highway, but it was smooth sailing since traffic was light on the highway around 8:30 a.m.

In Scituate, we stopped for gas and coffee, and joined nine other Romans 8 Riders, plus a few guests. From there, we rode into nearby Connecticut to rendezvous with CMA members from the Healing Light chapter, plus a few more guests. By this time, around 10:30, the weather was warm enough for me to shed my leather jacket. Healing Light president Stan Winman gave a safety briefing before the ride. Since this was the first big group ride of the season, Stan urged riders to be extra careful because they might be a bit rusty from having not ridden since last year (actually, he used the term "cobwebs"). There were a few glitches early into the ride - the rider in front of me stalled his bike, forcing me to stop short. Another rider in the group disrupted the pack a short time later. After he caught up to us at a light, he said he had problems putting his bike into first gear.

Eventually, things settled down a bit, although it seemed that at least one of the guest riders had little experience riding in a large group. We CMA riders always ride in a two-row, staggered formation, but one of the guest riders in front of me rode smack in the middle of the lane.

Our destination for the ride was the Living Stone Foundation in Leominster, Mass. Most of our route consisted of secondary roads through small towns and villages, although to get through Worcester, we rode on Interstate 290. Riding highways through cities is some of the most challenging (and dangerous) riding motorcyclists will face, especially in a group. Cars exiting or entering the highway often cut into or through the pack, and at one point, I was glad I had the power of a Big Twin Harley to catch up to the other riders who had gotten separated from us. We even had a female motorcyclist (in full leathers) cut through our pack, which was a first experience for me. What's worse, this motorcyclist lost several papers from one of her saddlebags. It was like riding through rather large confetti. Then I saw a pencil fly out of her bag and roll onto the highway as she crossed in front of me. Math was never my best subject in school, but I'm pretty sure a number 2 pencil, plus my skinny 21" front wheel at 60 mph on a curve, equals a good recipe for disaster. Fortunately, my tire missed the pencil, and that woman made her exit. We were back on secondary roads for the remainder of the way, with only one extremely sharp curve, immediately followed by a very steep hill, to keep us on our toes.

To me, the Living Stone Foundation is like a piece of heaven tucked into the woods. It is the home of Bob Tellier, who retired from a teaching career in 1981 and, while building a stone fireplace and chimney on his house over the next few years, had a spiritual experience and became a born-again Christian.

"My mission is to carve the Word of God in stone," Tellier told our group after we arrived. "This is about one man - Jesus." Tellier hired a monument maker to help with his first project, and had the man teach him the art of stone carving

After visiting Jerusalem in 1987, Tellier began construction on his next big project - an elaborate stone structure, which he called a temple, dedicated to Jesus Christ. A giant stone pillar was erected next to the temple in 2001. Dozens of smaller stones carved with Scripture from both old and new testaments in the Bible, line a wooded trail behind the property, which became a nonprofit organization in 2000.

According to the foundation's web site, 90 percent of the stones are quarry rejects. "There's no way I could afford to buy this stone," Tellier said, adding that God has also provided him with the resources to transport the stones.

Our group walked the grounds, took photos and enjoyed a peaceful retreat. On the way back from Living Stone, the group split up. Some rode to a restaurant for a late lunch/early dinner, while others rode home. Anna and I rode back with Pastor Joe and his wife, Petra. We stopped for gas in Webster, Mass., and then Joe's motorcycle, a 1992 Harley FXR, would not start. Another small group of motorcyclists tried to help us, and after attempts to push-start the FXR didn't work, a gas station employee got a booster cable set with battery pack. Joe found a loose battery cable, and after tightening the cable, the jump-start worked and we were back on the road. We followed Joe and Petra into northwestern Rhode Island through many secondary country roads, which was a much-welcome break from the hair-raising highway riding earlier.

It's Awfully Quiet Here Lately

2010-05-05T11:42:00.000-04:00

I subscribe to eight motorcycle-related blogs and receive updates whenever they add new posts, but in the last few weeks, I've noticed that posting activity seems to have slowed down considerably. There are probably many explanations, but I can only assume the main reason is that in parts of the country that actually have seasons, the weather has been nice enough for enjoyable riding, so you all are doing more riding than blogging. Still, it's getting kinda lonely on here lately ....

Reading other bikers' blogs inspires me to keep trucking on my own blog, and I have to admit that I've been slacking on my end lately. I still have not posted about two big bike events I attended last Saturday and Sunday.

Unfortunately, I can't use the excuse that I've been riding a lot lately, because my riding has been mostly limited to weekends. Life has gotten pretty busy for me these last several weeks, between my work life; working my AA program; being in a relationship; and just trying to juggle the boring yet essential details of daily life, like keeping up with my dishes, laundry, bills and paperwork. Among all these competing demands for my time, blogging has taken a low priority. Yet, it's still something I want to continue, since I enjoy reading about other peoples' riding experiences (where has the Joker been lately?), and I would like to think the same holds true of my experiences.

So, please excuse me while I try to get caught up here.

2010 Motor Officer Bike Blessing and Rodeo

2010-04-27T21:25:00.000-04:00

God has a way of exceeding our expectations, and He certainly did on Sunday, April 25, at the second annual Motor Officer Bike Blessing and Rodeo, held at Rendezvous Leather in Uxbridge, Mass. The weather forecast that day called for rain, and not long after we had set up tents and marked the bike competition course by mid-morning, the raindrops fell and people took cover. It looked like the event was going to be a washout. But God had bigger plans: a total of six people made decisions to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior - including four police officers!

My brothers and sisters in the Christian Motorcyclists Association rejoiced at the news. It made all the planning, long hours and sacrifice worth it - even if just one person received God's gift of salvation.

"These blessings really give me a lift to keep on going," said Roland Caron, vice president of the Romans 8 Riders of CMA. "It's so easy to lose your momentum, because in my mind, I compared this to planning a wedding ... it takes so long and requires so much effort, and it's over in a flash in one day. But when you see the fruits of the effort ...."

About a dozen Massachusetts state and local police from various towns arrived on their department motorcycles around 11 a.m., lights flashing and sirens blaring, welcomed at the entrance by several people waving American flags. Members of several area CMA chapters - including my chapter, Romans 8 Riders; God's Posse; Kingdom Cruzers; Blood 'N' Fire Warriors; and Victorious Riders - split up to share the gospel message of Jesus Christ and bless the bikes of the officers, as well as civilians who rode to the event.

The rodeo showcases the bike-handling skills of the officers, who whip full-dress Harley Electra Glides through the tight slaloms, and ride them inside a circle of cones so tight they often scrape the floorboards. But the parking lot where the rodeo was held was wet from the rain, so the organizers decided to hold the bike games first, which are held on a dirt course. The games, which are a friendly competition between CMA members and officers, consist of a barrel push, slow race and riding on a string of 2" x 6" boards. I was one of the judges, and I have to admit I felt a bit awkward giving commands to the police officers riding their bikes up to the course.

Then the sun broke through around noon and dried the pavement, which allowed the rodeo to take place. A crowd of spectators watched the motor officer manuever their bikes around the cones, and a Hopedale, Mass., police officer tried to get Romans 8 Rider Andy Beaulieu to take his bulky Honda Goldwing around the tight circle.

"Put it on the floorboards, ride your way around, give it some throttle, and it'll stand up," said the officer, who made it sound simple ... in theory, anyway.

Amid the fun and games, many personal connections were formed. Romans 8 Riders chaplain Gene Snedeker and I joined our CMA sister Celine Songbird (sorry, I can't recall which chapter she's with) to bless the bike of a man named Rick, whose brother was having a difficult time following the death of his wife. Celine was able to offer prayers and encouragement for Rick's brother, because she experienced the loss of the spouse about four years ago.

Later in the day, I ended up making some new acquaintances by just asking some questions about a cool video camera I saw someone using. The couple, Jeff and Angela (she is president of Lakhota Riders, a riding club based in Stoughton, Mass.), have ridden through many parts of the U.S., including the Grand Canyon.

Bike season is just getting started, and I'm already getting stoked. You never know what God will do, but His plans are greater than ours.

Romance on a Motorcycle

2010-04-26T21:43:00.000-04:00

I'm a blessed man ... my girlfriend, Anna, loves to ride on the back of my motorcycle. She's also a big fan of my blog. But, being an avid reader of several blogs, she did offer a suggestion on how to improve my blog: "Put a little romance in it, baby," she said.

I first took Anna for a ride on my Harley about a month and a half ago. We rode over the Jamestown Bridge to Beavertail State Park. Anna, who had not been on a motorcycle in more than a decade, loved it. A few weeks later, she took a personal day off work and made sure it would be a sunny day just so she could ride with me again. That time, we rode to Norwich, Conn., taking some winding country back roads that reminded her of her home state, West Virginia. Anna, a classic rock fan, called it a "magic carpet ride."

We met through Facebook around Christmas 2009. I had posted a prayer on a mutual friend's Facebook wall, and she liked my photo, plus the fact that I am a Christian, a biker and single. We met for coffee and slowly developed a romantic relationship.

Anna, who is also a Christian, is definitely a Harley fan ("it's a freakin' lifestyle, dude," she says) although if I didn't have a Harley, I still think she'd ride with me.

She doesn't have a lot of time on the back of a bike, but sometimes she's even more enthusiastic than me about riding, saying she would ride in the rain with me and not complain. Her motto: "Life is tough - wear a helmet." Since I switched from the Yamaha to the Harley, I've become more of a fair-weather rider. I had committed to helping out with a bike blessing Sunday that was sponsored by my Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association, and the forecast called for rain. I was considering taking my van instead of my bike, but Anna called me on it, and she's right - a true biker doesn't ride only when it's sunny and 70-plus degrees. So, I took my bike (it ended up only sprinkling). Besides, she made it up to me that night by cooking me a meal fit for a king: southern fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, cinnamon apples, biscuits and gravy, and pecan pie with ice cream for dessert. She's a keeper ....

The day before the blessing, Saturday, was sunny and in the mid-60s, and Anna had gotten a baby sitter for her son, so we planned a ride. Before the ride, she bought a leather motorcycle jacket (she didn't have a proper riding jacket and got chilled pretty good last time, but didn't complain), and I bought her some goggles. We rode through parts of southern and western Rhode Island, and stopped at Beach Pond in Arcadia. The pond was so clear she wanted to take her boots off and wade in the water and tried to get me to do the same, but I said let's wait until the weather gets warmer. She's definitely more spontaneous and carefree, and I'm more structured and focused. They say opposites attract.

One thing I had not planned was what route to take after going west on Route 165, which crosses into Connecticut. I asked Anna where she wanted to go, and she really didn't care. "It's not the destination - it's the ride," she said. So I decided to go into Connecticut, down Route 165, which turns into Route 138, and then take a right turn onto Route 49 north. I'm glad I did. Unbeknownst to me, there is an eight-mile stretch of Route 49 through Sterling, Conn., that is a designated scenic highway, leading through hilly farm country, with beautiful vistas. I wish I had taken some photos (I did bring a camera), but there were few good spots to pull over. Apparently several other bikers had the same idea, because we passed more motorcycles than cars. My left arm nearly got tired from waving so much (okay, I'm exaggerating).

Then we rode east back into Rhode Island, crossing the Scituate Reservoir over a high, narrow bridge on Route 14. The views are spectacular, and Anna, who is my age, said that was her favorite part of the ride. I stopped at Suzy-Qs, a hamburger and ice cream stand that hosts a weekly bike night, in hopes of a late lunch, but they were closed, so we settled for lunch at D'Angelos instead. As good as a D'Angelo's steak sandwich is, it can't come close to true Southern cooking.

The 2010 Bike Season Officially Begins

2010-04-20T02:25:00.000-04:00

The riding season of the Romans 8 Riders chapter of the Christian Motorcyclists Association began Sunday with a bike blessing at Precision Harley-Davidson in Pawtucket, R.I., for the Blackstone Valley chapter of the Harley Owners Group.

I woke around 5 a.m. so I could meet Cam, another Romans 8 member who lives in southern Rhode Island, at the Mobil station on Route 138 in Richmond for 6:30 a.m. From there, we planned to get on Interstate 95 north and rendezvous with other chapter members in Coventry before jumping back on I-95 north to our final meetup point at Cardi's Furniture in South Attleboro, Mass.

Having been a boy scout, I should have been better prepared, but I was running around like a headless chicken that morning getting my gear ready. I arrived at the gas station eight minutes late, but saw no sign of Cam. I assumed he'd left for Coventry, so I got on the highway headed for the next rendezvous point. The sky was overcast and it was in the low 40s. Even though I wore glove liners and insulated mittens with chemical heat packs in them, my fingers still went numb. I caught up with Cam at the Cracker Barrel parking lot, where we were joined by Bob Levesque and Ed Kershaw. Rubbing my fingers against my jeans, I thawed them out for the next leg of the ride. Then the rain began somewhere around Cranston. But my bigger concern was my low fuel situation. I prayed that I would not have to switch the fuel petcock to reserve (no easy task with mittens, I'm sure) on the Thurbers Avenue curve or the Pawtucket S curve, but I made it to Cardi's no problem. There, we joined our chapter president, Spike and his wife Pam; road captain Mike Chretien; Roland and his wife Sue; and guests Manny and his wife Denise. From there, we stopped for gas on our way to Precision.

After we parked our bikes at Precision, we huddled under a tree to escape the rain and wait for the Blackstone Valley riders to arrive. I didn't count how many showed up, but I'm guessing there were no more than 10, including Firm Locke, the chapter's director. A few members from another CMA chapter, God's Posse, also attended the blessing. It was definitely a day for diehard riders.

Ed and I teamed up to bless a couple of Blackstone members' bikes. I like the way that Ed, who is a longtime Christian, shares the gospel message with bikers - simple and direct. Several of us blessed Manny's bike.

From there, we rode to Old Country Buffet in Seekonk, Mass., for a breakfast buffet before a 50-mile ride through several Massachusetts towns, including Seekonk, Rehoboth, Mansfield and Taunton. Weather was a mixed bag - sometimes cloudy, sometimes sunny; sometimes raining, sometimes dry; but temperatures by this time were in the low 50s. I've ridden in a group plenty of times with my Yamaha, but this was my first group ride with the Harley. It didn't help that the roads were wet and/or sandy. Because of this, I took corners very slowly for fear my rear tire might break loose, and I often had to catch up to other riders after I came out of turns.

Besides the less than ideal conditions, I had issues with my bike stumbling every time I gave it just a bit of throttle, especially around 35-40 mph, which was the speed we rode at most of the time. I think my carburetor may need to be re-jetted.

The ride ended back at Precision, and after the Blackstone Valley H.O.G.s left, most of the Romans 8 Riders went to Spumoni's restaurant to celebrate Roland's birthday. On the way home, I rode with Cam, and I noticed another issue with my bike - I felt some wobbling or instability while riding on the highway around 65 mph. At first I though it was just wind turbulence, but then I remembered hitting a pothole earlier while I braked approaching an exit ramp. I checked my front wheel spokes at home and found that a few were definitely loose, which can cause a wobble at higher speeds. My Harley is definitely turning out to be a high-maintenance girl.

Rite of Passage

2010-04-18T01:23:00.000-04:00

I've heard it said there are only two kinds of bikers: those who have been down, and those who haven't been down, yet. In other words, it's not a matter of if, but when, you will drop your motorcycle, according to this bit of biker wisdom. Now, I'm sure there are plenty of longtime riders who have never been down, but, until recently, I took pride in the fact that I had never lost control of any motorcycle while riding it. My first bike, the Yamaha Virago, has fallen down more than once, but never while I was riding it (those incidents happened while the bike was parked or being walked).

When I bought my second motorcycle, the Harley Dyna Wide Glide, one of the things I liked about it was that it was in pristine condition and had never been down or dropped. I even rode it cautiously the first few months after I got it, since it was a much heavier and more powerful bike than my Yamaha. All was good, until this past Thursday.

I was having a bad day, and needed a ride on my Harley to blow away the stress. After riding about 25 miles, I decided to pull into a coffee shop for a break. As I turned into the parking lot, I couldn't decide on which parking space I wanted. At the last second, I decided I wanted the first space and turned my handlebars before I overshot it. For some unknown reason, I did the worst thing I could have done while making a low-speed turn: I touched the front brake. Before I even knew what was happening, my bike and I were both laying on our right side. It happened so quickly I did not have a chance to try to save the bike from going down. I was only going 5 mph or less.

From the first day I began riding in the fall of 2008, when I took the Motorcycle Safety Foundation rider training course, the instructors drummed into our heads that you never touch the front brake during a turn, especially a low speed turn. You WILL go down. I was always conscious of that fact, and used only the rear brake on a low speed turn. There may have been once or twice when I found myself about to reach for the front brake during a low speed turn, but I always caught myself beforehand. Not so on this day - maybe I had too much on my mind, or maybe I decided to go for that parking space too late to maneuver safely, but whatever the reason doesn't matter at this point.

Fortunately, the only thing injured on me was my pride. I don't think anyone saw me go down, and if anyone did, nobody said anything to me afterward. After laying stunned for several seconds, I got up and spent a few awkward moments looking at my bike on the ground. More awkwardness ensued as I lifted my bike upright (fortunately, I had the presence of mind to lower my kickstand first so I didn't drop it on the left side). It's a 600-pound bike and not easy to lift, but now I know I can do it by myself, even with a bad lower back. The fall did wreck a pair of work boots I was wearing (the sole of my right boot got torn halfway off), but miraculously, I did not sprain or bruise my ankle or foot. In fact, I suffered no pain anywhere (I was wearing a leather jacket, leather gloves and helmet).

After parking the bike, I went inside for a hot chocolate. I wasn't ready to assess the damage just yet. My mind was still adjusting to what had happened. About half an hour later, I went outside to face reality. The damage could have been worse. The gas tank and fenders had not even a scratch on them, thank God. There was no damage to any of the engine or drivetrain components either, nor any fluids leaking.

The exhaust system heat shields and right mirror suffered the most visible damage. The right rear turn signal lens had popped off, but it snapped back on easily. There was very minor damage (nick/scratch/scrape) to the rear turn signal housing, rear brake foot lever, right foot peg and front brake lever, but those four items really don't look bad.

Another moment of truth came when I went to start the bike. I was nervous the carburetor might have been flooded when the bike tipped over, but it started and ran fine. No fuel spilled from the gas tank either.

But on the ride home, I did notice something seemed off with my handlebars. I took my hands off the bars and the bike rode straight, so after I got home and parked the bike in my garage, I took a closer look at the handlebars. My intuition was correct - the right side of the bars is farther back than the left side, when looking at it from above the handlebar clamp. I had to use a ruler to verify this - there is about 1/4" difference. I don't know if the handlebar clamp, bushings or risers got moved or bent, or whether the bar itself got bent. I'm guessing the bar is bent, but I will get some expert opinions.

For now, the bike is still safe to ride. The mirror, lights and brakes are fully functional. The damaged parts that sustained very minor damage are easy parts to replace, but since the damage to those parts is hardly noticeable, there's no rush to replace them. On the other hand, the parts that sustained the most damage, the handlebars and exhaust heat shields, are the more difficult and expensive parts to replace. They are also the parts I want to replace as soon as possible since they are most noticeable.

I'm mad at myself for making a stupid mistake, but my friend Mike Chretien, a longtime biker, told me not to beat myself up, saying, "it happens to the best of us."

I had hoped to use proceeds from the sale of my Yamaha to buy some accessories and upgrades for my Harley, but now, it looks like a good chunk of those funds will go toward replacement of stock parts that were damaged in the accident. As bummed out as I am, I have to look at the positives in this: a) I was not hurt; b) the bike can still be ridden and actually doesn't look that bad; and c) the damage could have been worse, especially had it fallen on the left side, where the primary cover is vulnerable.

Prepping the Yamaha

2010-04-10T16:30:00.000-04:00

Since I bought my Harley earlier this year, my first motorcycle, a red 1987 Yamaha Virago, has received very little attention. My buddy Mike Chretien was right when he predicted, "you're not going to ride it" anymore.

I've only had it out two or three times since I bought the Harley, mostly short rides just to keep the battery charged. I knew I was going to be selling it, and I had to make a couple minor repairs, but it wasn't high on my priority list.

A couple weeks ago, I finally overcame my procrastination and bought the two parts I needed: a mirror, and a rear turn signal. The left rear turn signal broke last summer when the bike tipped over after I parked the bike, but failed to ensure my kickstand was locked in (that was embarrassing!), and the right mirror broke last fall when I was trying to walk the bike on some grass, lost my balance and the bike tipped over.

I had gotten used to riding the Yamaha without a functioning left rear turn signal (I hand signaled instead), or a right side mirror, but since I am selling the bike, I want it to be fully functional and safe for the next rider.

Although it took me several months to get the parts, which I found used on eBay, at least they didn't sit in my garage too long once I received them. I installed them today when I had a couple hours of free time. Now all the bike needs is a good cleaning before I put it up for sale.

The Great Flood of 2010

2010-04-05T23:35:00.000-04:00

In New England, April can be an unpredictable month, weather-wise. This month, when many motorcycles come out of hibernation, has been known to bring snow storms, 80-plus-degree temperatures, or anything in between.

Last week, though, brought record rainfalls and a flood that ranked as one of the state's biggest natural disasters. A total of 10 inches of rain or more fell on some parts of the state last Tuesday and Wednesday, causing rivers to overflow their banks, roads to wash out and collapse and basements to flood. The flooding, which followed another heavy rainfall about a week earlier, was especially devastating around the Pawtuxet River in Warwick, Cranston and West Warwick. The river flowed into the Warwick Mall parking lot, with water submerging cars. The Warwick sewer plant also flooded and shut down, prompting city officials to ask residents not to flush their toilets any more than necessary. Interstate 95 in Warwick had flood water up to the tops of Jersey barriers in one section near the Pawtuxet River and had to be completely shut down. The airport connector (pictured above) also had to be closed.

Although, to my knowledge, no deaths occurred as a direct result of flood waters, the economic effects to homeowners and businesses are staggering. And as many as 4,000 people are at least temporarily unemployed as a result of the flood, in a state already suffering from high unemployment.

The rain let up on Thursday, when I-95 reopened, and things began to dry out as people pumped out. Road conditions were not hospitable to motorcycles the first few days after the flood, as water washed sand, silt and gravel onto some roads, or eroded sections of roads away. A few roads remained closed due to collapses. But slowly, motorcycles began making their way out again, and Easter Sunday brought ideal riding weather, sunny and mid-70s.

Areas that were severely flooded will have a long road to return to any semblance of normal, but for the most part, at least in my area of the state, the main after-affect of the flood as it pertains to motorcycle riding is trying to avoid the puddles of water on the side of the road from people still pumping out their basements.

Baby's Got a New Shoe

2010-03-17T01:29:00.000-04:00

I knew that I would have to replace the rear tire on my 2002 Wide Glide when I bought it about a couple of months ago. While not quite bald, there was very little tread remaining, at least in the middle of the tire. I've ridden it a few times since I bought it, but I never felt too confident riding my bike with a tire that worn, even on dry pavement.

So today, I rode the Wide Glide to Bob's Motorcycle Sales in Ashaway, R.I., an independent sales and repair shop that specializes in Harley-Davidsons, to get the rear tire replaced. (The front tire has good tread, otherwise, the title of this blog entry would read, "Baby's Got a New Pair of Shoes.") Although Metzlers and Avon Venoms are highly-rated motorcycle tires, I decided to stick with the stock Dunlop tire, since I am keeping the front tire and it's not recommended to mix tire brands on a motorcycle. When the front tire wears out, it will probably be time to replace both tires, since the rears wear twice as fast as the fronts, I've heard. Then, I will probably try a different brand. But for now, I just want a tire with plenty of tread.

It had rained the past three days, so I thought my chances of dry roads for the ride to my 8 a.m. service appointment were slim. But I awoke to mostly dry roads. The temperature was another story - it was a very raw 38 degrees - so cold I wanted to wear my full-face helmet. But I didn't. My hands are my weak link in the cold, though. I activated some Hot Hands chemical heat packs and put them inside some mittens for the ride on Route 1 south, but by the time I reached the town of Westerly, my fingers were numb from cold, so I had to pull over and rub my hands on my jeans to restore some circulation. I was the first customer to arrive at Bob's just after 8 a.m. and I was promptly ushered into the garage. I decided to walk to a coffee shop on Route 3 while I waited for them to replace the tire. About two hours later, I was back on my bike, feeling more confident with some new rear tread on my ride.

Wide Glide's Shakedown Cruise

2010-03-14T14:46:00.000-04:00

Okay, so this post sounds similar to Wide Glide's Maiden Voyage, but I haven't ridden much lately and figure something is better than cyber-silence. Seriously, though, this is not a re-hash, so read on ....

Unlike this weekend, when we're experiencing a nor'easter with torrential rain and strong winds, last weekend was Mother Nature's invitation to bikers suffering from cabin fever, with both days sunny and nearly 60 degrees.

I rode my Harley to church last Sunday, and by the time church ended around noon, I was itching to ride. I called several Christian biker friends to see if they were up for a ride, but only got their voice mail. So, I decided to ride to Rendezvous Leather in Uxbridge, Mass. It was my first trip out of state with my bike, and the first time I had it on the interstate highway.

As stated before, the bike has plenty of power, a comfortable ride and feels very stable at speed. Very rarely does a bump cause my butt to leave the seat (this bike is 200 pounds heavier than my Yamaha Virago). And I feel safer riding the Wide Glide on the highway because I can get out of potential trouble situations much more quickly than I can with the 535 cc Yamaha. But, the Wide Glide is taller and I get more of a wind blast on my chest, so I will probably get a windshield for the bike for highway riding.

The weather drew a fair amount of bikes out, and I saw a few on the highway. At Rendezvous Leather, I bought another helmet (a size smaller), some goggles and a Throttle Boss (an accessory that makes it easier to hold the throttle on longer rides). I was surprised there were not more than a couple of other bikes at Rendezvous, a popular biker gathering spot, but a few rode by. Anyway, the Vega half-helmet - which stays on my head better at highway speeds - and the goggles - which enable me to ride without a helmet face shield - proved to be wise purchases. The Throttle Boss, however, didn't work well and I plan to return it. Fortunately, there are different styles and I will try another one.

About the title of this blog entry: a shakedown cruise is "a limited sea excursion for the purpose of testing all the working equipment of a ship before putting the vessel into service," according to an online nautical dictionary. Previously, I've only had my bike out a few times for fairly short rides, so I consider last Sunday's ride my true "shakedown cruise".

In many ways, riding a motorcycle is an act of faith. I have to have faith that I will ride to the best of my ability, and that God will do the rest to watch over me so no four-wheeled (or 18-wheeled) vehicles turn me into road kill (unless that's God's plan for me to depart from this earth). I have to have faith that my motorcycle is mechanically safe to ride. And, I have to have faith that my motorcycle is mechanically reliable, especially if I'm riding it a long distance. I'm still in the "getting to know you" stage of owning my 2002 Wide Glide. It did prove very reliable for the previous owner, who rode it to Pennsylvania last summer with no problems, but I have to learn to trust it for myself. Last weekend's ride definitely helped to earn my trust.

A Harley Oil Change

2010-03-06T21:20:00.000-05:00

Being a new Harley owner and being a bit - shall we say - obsessive about researching the 'best' products for my motorcycle, means that a routine oil change is anything but routine, at least for my first time.

I change my own oil on my work van, and it's a pretty routine job that costs less than $20 for an oil filter plus five quarts of decent quality oil (I use Castrol). I just can't see paying a quick-lube place $40 for an oil change (plus having to endure attempts to up-sell you on other services).

But what's a simple matter on my van, is a huge production with my Harley. My obsessive nature has been researching the Internet (mostly Harley forums) for opinions on the best oil and oil filters. I have decided I will go with the H-D oil filters, which filter particles as small as five microns, but I will buy a painted (black) filter, instead of the chromed one. The black filters are slightly cheaper, but I decided on them mainly because I was told they dissipate heat slightly better than the chrome filters. The Twin Cam engines run hotter than the Evolution engines, so I'll take any edge, however slight, to cool it down.

For oil, the big choice is natural or synthetic, and after doing my research, I've decided to go with a synthetic oil, which results in lower engine oil temperatures - definitely a good thing in slow traffic in the summer. The oil I plan on using, Mobil 1 V-Twin 20W50, is not cheap at about $10 per quart, but neither was my Harley, so I don't mind spending a bit more on something as critical to engine life as oil.

Then there's special tools to make changing oil on a Harley an easier job. The oil filter is above one of the rubber engine mounts and oil will get all over the engine mount and frame, unless you use some kind of shield, whether it's a specially designed plastic tray with a funnel, or a 2-liter plastic soda bottle that is partially cut open, to stick underneath the filter before removing it. There is also a sensor right near the Harley's oil filter, so not all styles of oil filter wrenches will clear the sensor. For about $10, Harley makes a special end-style oil filter wrench with a cutout to clear the sensor, and this looks like the best option.

Yesterday, I stopped at the local Harley dealer and bought an oil filter ($8.95) and an O-ring ($0.95) for the oil drain plug. I also bought three quarts of Mobil 1 V-Twin 20W50 synthetic motor oil and a new funnel at an Auto Zone store.

Instead of the stamped-steel Harley version of the oil-filter wrench, the Harley dealer ended up selling me a slick-looking oil filter wrench made by Paulimoto Racing. At a price of $17, it's not cheap, but it is very high-quality machined billet aluminum, and made in the U.S.A.

Then I stopped at the supermarket and bought 1- and 2-liter bottles of soda, which I bought for the plastic bottles. Using a utility knife, I cut the bottom and top off each of the bottles to use as a spill shield underneath the oil filter. The 1-liter bottle seemed to be a better fit.

Today's weather was sunny and in the 50s, so I took the bike for about a 10-mile ride to warm up the oil before I changed it. The oil filter wrench worked well, but the cut-up soda bottle didn't catch all the oil. I spilled some on the frame and motor mount. Next time, I may cover the area beneath the filter with aluminum foil, or else buy a catch tray specially made for this task. I used brake cleaner to clean the spilled oil off the bike.

Anyhow, I feel better now that I changed the oil on the bike, because the old oil was pretty dark and probably overdue. I celebrated by taking the bike out for a 50-mile ride, enjoying the best riding weather so far this year.

Getting Closer ...

2010-03-02T20:10:00.000-05:00

After my last outing in dry but near-freezing weather, I pledged I would not ride again until the temperature broke 50 degrees. Today, it came close. It was mostly sunny and 47 degrees, according to a bank's LED sign - but we all know how accurate those things are, right?

During my travels in my work van, I saw two bikes on the road, and one bike parked in front of a house. Two out of the three bikes were Harleys, and both Harleys were baggers (Road Kings, I believe), including one ridden by a member of a firefighter M/C, who was evidently enjoying his day off.

I got home around 4 p.m. and was tempted to take my bike out, but a promise is a promise - even if it's only to myself.

Goodbye to February

2010-02-28T23:30:00.000-05:00

The heavy rains over the last several days melted 99 percent of the snow and washed away any road salt, so when I saw that the roads were dry today, I was tempted to ride my Harley.

Apparently, I was not the only one. As I drove my van to North Kingstown to have Sunday dinner with my brother, I saw a Harley and its owner stopped in the breakdown lane on Route 1 north. I pulled over to see if the rider needed any assistance or tools. The bolt for his air cleaner cover had fallen out, but he said he was okay, so I went on my way.

When I returned home around 4:30 p.m., I threw on a hooded sweatshirt, grabbed my leather jacket, helmet and leather gloves, backed the Wide Glide out of the garage and started it up. I badly needed a ride and was glad I went, although I paid a price for it - it was colder than I thought. I thought it was in the low 40s, but it was about 38 degrees, I later found out. My prescription eyeglasses fogged up every time I exhaled (I was wearing a half-helmet with eye shield). A full-face helmet would have prevented this problem and been a lot more comfortable in these temperatures, but it doesn't look right on a Harley.

This was only my second ride on my new bike and I had a brief scare when my rear tire fishtailed when I downshifted a bit too abruptly, but it happened so quickly I didn't have time to think. This bike is much more powerful than my little Yamaha, and I will have to ride it conservatively until I get used to it.

About halfway into my 20-mile ride, mostly on country roads, my fingers started going numb from the cold. Then when I got home and the blood began to circulate back into my fingers, the pain was excruciating. For about three minutes, it felt like my fingers were on fire. I can see why many people are fair-weather riders, and next time I ride, I'm going to wait for a 50-degree day. With March beginning tomorrow, I'm hoping that I won't have to wait more than two or three weeks for that 50-degree day.

Itchin' to Ride

2010-02-18T22:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, it was sunny and 46 degrees, so I couldn't resist taking a quick motorcycle ride to combat cabin fever. My Yamaha Virago has a Battery Tender pigtail on it, so I threw the charger on it a couple days earlier. It was at full charge in about an hour, so it really hadn't discharged much, despite the fact I haven't really ridden it in about a month. The bike started right up and idled smoothly (which I attribute to using Sea Foam fuel additive and stablizer). I checked the tire pressure and neither tire needed air, so I took about a 20-minute spin that included a short stretch on Route 1, where I got up to 65 mph. There is still snow on the sides of the roads, with some wet areas from snow melting, but the temps are slowly getting close to the bearable range.

Earlier that day, when I was driving my van, I saw one other motorcyclist on Route 1, riding a metric bike. While I was working in my garage, I heard what sounded like a Harley in the distance, but I wasn't sure. The farthest I ventured out in my Harley was my driveway, since I'm waiting until ALL the snow is gone and we have a heavy, soaking rain to wash all the salt away.

The first and only time I rode my Harley Wide Glide was also about three weeks ago. I had filled the gas tank before I parked it, but didn't add any fuel stabilizer (I ran out of Sea Foam at the time). I was a bit concerned about the fuel going bad and the battery discharging, but three weeks is apparently not long enough for either one of those things to happen. I added some Sea Foam, backed it out of the garage, and it started on the second or third try. I let the engine run for about 10 minutes to charge the battery a bit, while I sat on the bike and enjoyed the good vibrations.

Northeast Motorcycle Expo

2010-02-13T22:48:00.000-05:00

As winter starts to ease its icy grip on New England, and withdrawal symptoms from being unable to ride motorcycles start to become almost painful, mid-February is the perfect time for a little encouragement to let you know riding season is (hopefully) just around the corner.

On Saturday, I attended the Northeast Motorcycle Expo at the Bayside Expo Center in Boston, along with a few other Romans 8 Riders: Spike, our chapter president (on the right); Mike Chretien, road captain (center); Bob Levesque (on the left); and Duke Davies (not pictured).

This was my second year attending the show. When I went last year, I did not even own a bike, so it was very difficult to see dozens of used motorcycles for sale by Motorcycles of Manchester, which were displayed at one end of the building, knowing I could not afford any of them - even the more modestly-priced ones.

"That's where you got the bug last year, sitting on the bikes," Bob reminded me. But at this year's show, I was much more subdued, since I bought my dream bike - a 2002 Harley-Davidson Wide Glide - a few weeks ago.

At the Bruce Rossmeyer Harley-Davidson tent, where new and used Harleys were for sale, Spike - who would love to see an all-Harley CMA chapter - couldn't resist teasing Bob, who owns a Kawasaki: "C'mon ... they can sit you down and get you financed," Spike said.

Unlike last year, where we left the show with a bagful of catalogs and handouts, this year we left mostly empty-handed. We did, however, receive an unexpected blessing when a leather and boot vendor, Bruce from Myrtle Beach, S.C., turned out to be a fellow Christian. Noticing our CMA patches, Bruce quickly asked me, Bob and Mike what our favorite Bible verses were. Then he quoted Scripture and prayed with us, urging us to have a fruitful season sharing the gospel with other bikers, because he believes Jesus Christ's return will be soon. He prayed that God would give us a "double portion" of his Spirit.

"That man was on fire!" Mike exclaimed afterward about Bruce's enthusiasm for the Lord.

Walking around the expo center, we also saw several CMA brothers and sisters from other chapters, including the Kingdom Cruzers from the East Bay, R.I. area, as well as Buck West and Bill Hegenauer, CMA area representatives from northern and southern New England, respectively. Rindo Barese and his wife, from the CMA Blood 'N' Fire Warriors chapter, based in Dedham, Mass., also manned the CMA tent in the exhibit area.

Besides new and used stock motorcycles, the show featured custom motorcycles, including radical choppers with fat rear tires and long, raked forks with skinny front tires. If you had $48,449 burning a hole in your pocket, you could have bought a Boss Hoss motorcycle (the red bike), with an engine that looked like it could rival a Caterpillar diesel in size and power.

While I experienced sensory overload during last year's show, being brand new to the world of motorcycles, this year I was more jaded, I suppose. I wasn't looking for a bike, nor any accessories, and I already have riding gear. For me, it was all about the fellowship and spending time with my CMA brothers. And, no Romans 8 outing would be complete without a meal - this year, it was at Ponderosa steakhouse.

Wide Glide's Maiden Voyage

2010-02-12T03:05:00.000-05:00

Thanks to what I believe was a God-created set of ideal circumstances, including a brief reprieve from winter (see http://harley-bound.blogspot.com/2010/01/god-worked-it-out.html), I got to take my recently-purchased 2002 Dyna Wide Glide for its maiden voyage about two weeks ago ... this is the follow up post about my first impressions of my new bike (sorry this post is so long after the fact, but better late than never).

I bought the bike on Jan. 23, and since the gas tank was nearly empty, I bought a five-gallon gas can and filled the tank up with regular, 87-octane gasoline, since that's what I use in my Yamaha Virago. But then I read the Harley owner's manual and saw that it calls for premium (at least 91-octane) gasoline, otherwise it can cause detonation (pinging). Great .... So, the following Tuesday morning, I bought a hand-operated siphon pump; pumped the Wide Glide's gas tank's contents back into the gas can; poured the gas can's contents into my van; went to the gas station to fill the gas can with 93-octane gas (they don't sell 91-octane locally); and then refilled my Harley's gas tank. The lengths we go to to pamper our Harleys ... it's insanity sometimes.

After refueling, I check the oil level, which looked fine (although it's due for an oil change) and checked the tire pressure, which was slightly low, so I added air. I attached a temporary registration plate, grabbed my riding gear and documents to register the bike, and started the bike to let it warm up. I had taken the saddlebags off the bike Saturday, so I was unsure how to safely carry the papers, but I rolled them up and stuck them in an inside pocket of my leather jacket, where they were secure. Being careful of the mud at the end of my landlord's driveway, I hit the road.

As is normal with carbureted Harleys, I'm told, the bike is "cold-blooded" (that's motorcycle-speak for "the bike takes a while to warm up"). It sputtered, hesitated and coughed, so I pulled the choke out slightly and it behaved better. The bike has straight pipes and is loud (which I like), but there is a police station near where I live and I was worried about getting stopped. Few things stand out as much as a motorcycle on the road in the middle of winter in New England. So I decided to ride a bit out of my way to get to Route 1, with my ultimate destination being Middletown, R.I. My ride would take me through five towns, over two bridges and across Narragansett Bay - a well-rounded test run, with some beautiful ocean views.

I had heard the bike run before I bought it, but was unable to test ride it, so I had to trust the seller's word that the bike rode and drove well. Thankfully, that proved true. The clutch engaged smoothly, and the transmission shifted flawlessly. Neutral was easy to find. The brakes worked well.

Now, ideally, I had planned to do a few short runs with the bike on local roads with lower speeds and little traffic, until I got more acquainted with the bike, like I did with my Yamaha Virago when I first bought it. But I very quickly felt comfortable riding the Wide Glide, even in heavier traffic and higher speeds, right from the get-go. I guess it's just because I'm a more experienced rider now. I did have to fiddle with the choke a few times on the fly, since it was cold-blooded, so that was a bit awkward, as my gloved hand groped for the choke lever. Also, while stopped, I had to give the bike a bit of throttle, as it threatened to stall (it only stalled once, and it quickly restarted). But, once it was warmed up, those issues disappeared.

While my Yamaha Virago (it's also an air-cooled V-twin, although much smaller displacement) warms up much quicker than the Harley, the Harley definitely is a huge improvement in ride quality. Rhode Island roads are notoriously bumpy, and the Virago rear suspension often bottomed out, but the Wide Glide was like riding a Cadillac. I found it to be well mannered and responsive on the curves. I also like the Wide Glide's forward controls and mini-ape handlebars much better, both for appearance and ergonomics.

Then there is the torque of the Harley's Twin Cam 88 cubic inch engine ... even going easy on the throttle, which I did, 60-70 mph comes almost effortlessly, and it lost no power scaling the Jamestown and Pell (Newport) bridges. The sound bellowing from the pipes was music to this rider's ears, especially when upshifting. In contrast, my Yamaha with its original exhaust system is so quiet I like to compare it to a sewing machine.

As I exited the Newport Bridge, I became paranoid, since signs are posted saying motorcycles with straight pipes are prohibited and can earn a hefty fine. What's worse, there was a police cruiser parked right at the bridge off-ramp! I checked my rear view mirror, but he didn't come after me. Now I was in heavier local traffic, and negotiated a traffic officer directing two-way traffic through one lane due to tree crews, before reaching the Middletown police station to get a V.I.N. check for my bike.

From there, it was a short hop next door to a branch office of the registry of motor vehicles, where I registered the bike and got a permanent plate. Oddly, I remembered all the paperwork I needed to register the bike, but forgot to bring a screwdriver so I could attach the plates. Duh! I asked a few people I saw in the parking lot if they had a screwdriver or pliers, but no one did. Thankfully, there was a tire shop next door, so I soon had my plate on the bike and was ready for the 20-mile ride home, as the temperature started to dip below 45 degrees, the point where my fingers start to go numb after a while, even with heavier gloves (they survived the trip).

As I stopped to pay the ($4!!!) toll on my way back over the Newport Bridge, the toll collector, a guy who appeared to be about my age or younger, asked me how the wind was coming over the bridge. It was pretty strong, actually, and I was pushed around a bit, but I never felt unsafe, as the Wide Glide is a heavier bike and rather stable. I don't know if he rode motorcycles or not, but he seemed to like my bike ... at least he agreed that a little wind is a small price to pay to be able to ride on an otherwise perfect January day.

PMS?

2010-02-10T19:50:00.000-05:00

No, it's not what you think ... I'm talking about Parked Motorcycle Syndrome. It's something I'm becoming well acquainted with this winter, my first full winter since I began riding motorcycles.

When I bought my first bike, the Yamaha Virago (the red bike on the left), in late February of 2009, the winter was winding down, so by the time I had it registered in early March, the roads were clear of snow and salt and I was able to ride. I was so excited to have a bike that the cold did not stop me from riding as often as I could. Since I didn't start out as a "fair-weather" rider, I rode late into the year, until about mid-December, when the first snow arrived. But for the most part, that was when I hung up my helmet for the season.

Then, in January 2010 (last month), I bought my second bike and first Harley, a 2002 Dyna Wide Glide, and have only ridden it one time, when winter took a very brief reprieve and rain washed the salt off the roads. Then winter returned with a vengeance (on Wednesday, as I started typing this post, we've had about six inches of snow, which you can see in the photo below, a view outside my window). If it seemed like spring took forever to arrive in the past, I'm sure it will take even longer, now that I have a Harley parked in my garage.

"A tough time to buy a bike (is) in the middle of winter," says 'dog155,' a rider from Maine, on hdforums.com. "I did just once - the biggest mistake I ever made, because the urge to ride was agonizing."

Of course, riders who live in California, Florida and Arizona don't have to deal with winter, and sometimes they like to rub it in, while those of us who live in colder climates wish for global warming.

Some cold-climate riders minimize off-season motorcycle withdrawal by doing maintenance and upgrades on their bikes (a heated garage or basement is a big luxury - mine is unheated, but I'm thankful to at least have a garage), or browsing accessory catalogs to plan their next upgrades. Then there are the big motorcycle expos (I'm looking forward to one in Boston on Saturday), although they probably make it even harder to wait for spring. One rider on an online Harley forum had some practical advice: he uses the winter months to do most of his home improvement projects, so he can focus more on riding when the weather is nice. Yes, now's the time for those 'honey-do' lists.

Of course, Daytona Bike Week is just around the corner, and those riders with the time and money can trailer their bikes to Florida to enjoy some early warm weather riding, but I'm not one of those fortunate ones this year. I had an invite, but I had to decline it - buying my Wide Glide wiped out most of my finances. Maybe next year I'll get to go and get an early reprieve from PMS.

My Wide Glide could use a few upgrades (although a rear tire with low tread and an oil change aren't upgrades, but necessities) but that will have to wait another month or two while I save up. Meanwhile, I will do what most riders do - just wait it out (and grumble occasionally). I will say one positive thing about cold and snow - it makes me appreciate the warm, sunny days.

The Harley vs. Metric Debate

2010-02-02T22:25:00.000-05:00

My CMA chapter, Romans 8 Riders, maintains a message board on Yahoo for chapter members to communicate. When I posted news on there recently that I had bought a 2002 Harley-Davidson Dyna Wide Glide, I received congratulations from several members. But, that discussion thread quickly evolved (or should I say, devolved?) into a debate on the merits of Harley-Davidson vs. Japanese (a/k/a 'metric') motorcycles.

The debate never really goes away, it just dies down ... until someone in our group buys a Harley.

Soon after I posted the news about my Wide Glide, Scott McKay, a former Romans 8 member who owns two Honda motorcycles (a Goldwing and a Magna), ribbed me for buying a Harley. Scott, who left Romans 8 last year to join another CMA chapter, had also remarked several months earlier that Romans 8 member Mike Chretien had joined the "dark side" when Mike traded in his Honda Gold Wing for a Harley Electra Glide.

Scott, who made the tired old comment about Harleys leaving trails of leaking oil, posted about one particular Goldwing that had been ridden 300,000 miles before needing an engine overhaul. "When a Harley can match this...I'll buy one!" he wrote.

But the Harley contingent of Romans 8, capably represented by Bob "Bobby Summertime" Cesario and Roland "Ro" Caron, did not let Scott's comments go unanswered. The debate was on.

"Now Scott, first of all, let’s be honest here ... people don’t collect and restore 'Wing Dings' [Editor's note: this is what the Harley riders in Romans 8 call Honda Goldwings] like they do Harleys," Roland opined. "After all, they are disposable bikes! Next point is, Harley doesn’t imitate anyone - they are always imitated. And finally, there are only two kinds of people in this world: those who ride Harleys, and those that wish they could."

For at least a dozen posts, Scott and the tag-team duo of Ro and Bobby Summertime verbally sparred (it was all in good fun, of course). I have to say, Bobby had the best quote. He wrote to Scott, "You ride rice ... and that ain't nice ..."

Scott called for backup from other Japanese bike owners. After much persuasion to join in the fray, Bob Levesque, our former road captain, who rides a Kawasaki Nomad, quoted some Scripture, then added his two cents.

“...Let your conduct be without covetousness; be content with such things as you have. For He Himself has said, “I will never leave you nor forsake you...”.... Hebrews 13:5

"So, my dear brothers, what I own, or ride, is of little matter," Bob Levesque wrote. "I'm just grateful that (God) allows me to ride."

Some Harley riders (not any in Romans 8) will not wave to other motorcyclists who ride a Japanese or non-Harley motorcycle. It certainly happened to me at least a few times when I rode my Yamaha Virago last season. Now, whether the riders didn't wave back at me because I "rode rice" or for any number of other reasons, who knows.

My own take on this issue is this: Although I prefer to own and ride a Harley, I respect and will acknowledge anyone who rides, no matter what nameplate is on his or her bike. When I rode my Wide Glide for the first time last week on a rather cold day, I only encountered one other person on two wheels. He happened to be riding a scooter, and I was riding a Harley, but that didn't stop me from waving to him.

In the end, my brothers in Christ agreed to disagree, and the 'debate' finally died down after a few days.

"God bless you, my brother, you're a good sport. This has been a lot of fun," Roland wrote to Scott. "As long as we all take this light-heartedly (as we should), it's a real blessing that we can have fun. In the end, I think we all agree the most important thing is our love for the Lord and each other ... Amen!"

Replied Scott: "Amen ... (and) I still love rice!"

God Worked It Out

2010-01-26T21:27:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite Bible verses is Romans 8, verse 28: "And we know that in all things, God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." To me, this means that God, who is ultimately in control, loves us. For those who put their faith in his son Jesus Christ, that passage is a promise that God can work good even through bad decisions and circumstances.

While we have free will and can and do make bad choices some times, if we seek to follow God's will for us, He will work things out for our ultimate good, even if we can't see it at the moment.

So how does this apply to my life, as it relates specifically to motorcycling? Glad you asked ....

Much of my life has been controlled by fear, and even as a (relatively new) Christian, fear can still creep in. If our faith in God was perfect, we would have no fear. But, I don't think any Christian has perfect faith. We're human, therefore not perfect.

I'll admit I was very nervous about buying my 2002 Harley Dyna Wide Glide. Yes, at first, I was more nervous than excited about it. Even though Roland, an experienced Harley guy, helped me check out the bike, I was still fearful I was about to buy a lemon, since I couldn't test ride it due to poor road conditions where the bike was for sale. After talking to the owner, though, my gut had a good feeling, and I decided to buy it based on his word that the bike shifted and rode well.

Even after I completed the deal last Saturday, I feared, "What if the bike turns out to be stolen?" Since the bike had an out-of-state title and was newer than 10 years old, my state's registry of motor vehicles requires a V.I.N. check at a police department. I had fears the V.I.N. would come up stolen, the bike would be seized and I'd be out nearly $8,000. Yes, my mind sometimes tends to think of worst-case scenarios.

Monday, we had a good, soaking rain, which washed whatever salt remained on the roads where I live (the snow had melted several days earlier). My plan was to go to the main Rhode Island registry and get a temporary registration plate, so I could then ride the bike to a police department for a V.I.N. check. Then, I had a few weeks to register the bike and pay the sales tax.

Usually, I am in and out of the main registry within an hour, but for some reason, the place was mobbed Monday. I pulled ticket #693 when I arrived at 11 a.m., but they were only on #430. I went out for lunch and did some errands, but when I returned around 1:45 p.m., they were only up to about #530, so there was clearly no chance of them getting to me by the time they closed at 3:15 p.m. So I wasted a trip, and was in a funk the rest of the day. That was the result of my plan.

Now, this is where God's plan came together where my plan failed:

First, I had received a check for $500 on Monday for some previous plumbing work I had done (an amount that nearly covered the sales tax).
Second, I went to the registry branch in Middletown, R.I. this morning and had only a half-hour wait.
Third, the female clerk who waited on me and issued a temporary plate was very helpful. She suggested I come back today, get the V.I.N. check at the Middletown Police Department, which was right next door, and then pop into the registry branch again, where I would not have to wait since I had been there earlier in the day.
Fourth, by the time I got home from my first trip to the registry, the sun and wind had dried the roads, which had been wet from the day before.
Fifth, I got to ride my bike for the very first time, and it ran as well as the seller said. I did not break down in the middle of the Newport Bridge, as my fear factory of a mind had worried. Nor did I get pulled over by any police.
Sixth, there was no problem with the V.I.N. check (the civilian employee was friendly too).
Seventh, I returned to the registry, paid the sales tax and completed the registration. I even remembered to bring all the correct documents!

My maiden voyage on the Wide Glide was a blast (details on that to come in another post), and the weather was ideal for mid-winter around here ... 45 degrees, sunny and no salt on the roads! God created the perfect conditions, and a window of opportunity for me to take the bike out. I never imagined I would be able to get THREE transactions done in one day: get a temporary plate; get a V.I.N. check; and register the bike. Just learning that the bike is not stolen and runs well took a huge load off my worried mind.

Yes, God's plans are better than any plans we could imagine! I need to learn to trust Him more!

The Dream is a Reality - I Bought a 2002 Dyna Wide Glide!

2010-01-24T23:30:00.000-05:00

After an unproductive road trip to Connecticut last week to look at a couple of used Harley prospects (see http://harley-bound.blogspot.com /2010/01/hunt-moves-to-connecticut.html), I was a bit discouraged. I scanned motorcycles for sale on Craigslist every night, and scanned eBay every few days, but there were no other decent prospects nearby for any of the models I wanted (Wide Glide/Low Rider/Softail Custom or Standard) in my price range. A Harley dealer in New Jersey had a nice 1998 Wide Glide listed online for $7,800, but when I factored in shipping costs (about $500), the deal wasn't as attractive. Besides, I really didn't want to drive that far to look at a bike.

Then, I decided to see if the 2002 Wide Glide I had looked at in Massachusetts last month was still available. It was listed on eBay and Craigslist for $7,900. After I went to see it on Dec. 29, the owner rejected my offer of $7,000. He counter-offered to sell it for $7,750 - no less - adding that he could sell it for much more in the spring (see http://harley-bound.blogspot.com/2009/12/tale-of-two-wide-glides.html). The eBay auction ended without the bike selling, but I didn't see it re-listed on either eBay or Craigslist. In the meantime, I had saved up some more money, so I emailed the seller on Jan. 14 and said I would be willing to buy the bike for $7,750, if I could test ride it. But there was still sand and salt on the roads where the bike was, and the owner said the salt would damage the chrome. I didn't want the salt attacking the chrome, so I agreed a test ride was not a good idea.

Next, I had to find someone with an enclosed motorcycle trailer to help me transport the bike. I put out the word among my Christian biker network (and even my Facebook page), and chased several leads. I also considered renting a U-Haul truck. Then Mike Laplante, a Christian biker and member of the CMA Kingdom Kruzers chapter in East Bay, R.I., offered to use his pickup truck and enclosed trailer to get my bike. After coordinating schedules with the seller and Mike, we arranged to get the bike Saturday morning.

On Friday afternoon, I went to my bank and withdrew most of my savings account, asking for mostly $100 bills. I have never held so much cash in my hands in my life, and I was nervous. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that night.

I arrived at Mike's house at 8:00 the next morning, and his truck and trailer were ready to roll for the 90-minute drive to New Braintree, Mass., where, unlike Rhode Island, there was still quite a bit of snow on the ground, as well as sand and salt on the roads. The seller, Don, had plowed the road to the shed in back of his house, where the bike was being stored. Also, Danny, the owner of the bike, met us there. (Don and Danny are friends, and Don is selling the bike for Danny, who works a night shift job.)

Danny gave me the title, bill of sale, owner's manual, two keys and stock exhaust pipes, and gave me a quick rundown on the bike's controls. Then, I counted out $7,750 in cash, and we loaded the bike onto Mike's trailer. Mike had the bike tied down in less than five minutes, and we were on our way back to my place in southern R.I., a two hour, 90-mile trip.

We unloaded the bike in my driveway, started it up and I rode it into my garage, as Mike, who was just as excited as I was, took pictures to commemorate the occasion.

The whole thing felt like a dream, and I literally had to pinch myself to realize this was indeed real. My CMA Romans 8 Riders chapter president, Spike, a diehard Harley guy, knows quite well what I'm feeling, because when I saw him today, he asked me, "So ... how many times have you been out to the garage to look at it?"

I just have to thank God, through Jesus Christ, for blessing me with the bike of my dreams - right down to my first choice of color! God is awesome!

A Midwinter's Ride

2010-01-16T16:06:00.000-05:00

Since I had no appointments to look at motorcycles today, and it was a relatively warm (for January) and sunny day, I called my friend Duke and accepted his offer to take our motorcycles for a ride. I told Duke, who is in my CMA chapter, Romans 8 Riders, that I would meet him in the Park n' Ride commuter lot near the North Kingstown Home Depot. On the ride up, I saw another motorcyclist in my neighborhood taking advantage of 45-degree weather. After I met up with Duke, we went in the Depot, where I got three pairs of HotHands hand warmers.

Although there was still some snow on the ground, the roads weren't too bad, with standing water from melting snow in only a few spots, and manageable amounts of sand. We went south on Route 102 and caught Route 1-A near Wickford, where we passed another motorcycle coming the opposite way. Then we got on Route 138 east and crossed the Jamestown Bridge, with our final destination being Fort Wetherill State Park in Jamestown, R.I. We walked along some cliffs and looked out at the ocean, marveling at the natural beauty of God's creation. We agreed we were blessed to be able to ride while there is still snow on the ground.

Duke's motorcycle, which you can see in the background of the above photo (courtesy of Duke's cell phone camera), is a Yamaha Royal Star, which has a V-4 engine with a distinct exhaust note. It has clean, flowing lines with the gas tank, rear fender and hard saddlebags, especially when viewed from the back, and is a very comfortable bike. I sat on it and the riding position of the floorboards actually felt more comfortable than the Harley Fatboys and Heritage Softails I've sat on. Plus it has a really cool digital speedometer that is reminiscent of a 1960s Chevy Impala (long and horizontal). As much as his bike's got going for it, Duke conceded there is at least one advantage Harleys have over his bike: there are many more handlebar options for Harleys, he said.

The Hunt Moves to Connecticut

2010-01-15T22:07:00.001-05:00

Today I took my hunt for a used Harley to the neighboring state of Connecticut. I had a fairly long drive, but I planned to look at two bikes that happened to be located fairly close to each other.

My first stop was T.S.I. Harley-Davidson in Ellington, Conn., about a two-hour ride from my apartment. I had printed out driving directions from Mapquest.com, but made a wrong turn as I got near the dealership. I don't think I have EVER had a set of Mapquest directions that got me to my destination without an unplanned detour, or at least some uncertainty. I would have kicked Mapquest to the curb long ago, if it wasn't free.

Anyway, at T.S.I. Harley, I met Kevin, who had a 2001 Dyna Wide Glide for sale on Craigslist. It was around lunchtime, so I followed Kevin (who works in the dealership's service department) to his house nearby to look at the bike, which was black, my favorite color. Kevin told me he had bought the bike cheap from a guy going through a divorce, with the intention of reselling it for a profit. The bike had about 18,000 miles, but it was not what I'd call a clean bike. There was some pitting and corrosion on the chrome (including the spoked wheels), and flaking paint and rust on the lower frame. There were also some questionable wiring splices that looked like they used a good portion of a roll of electrical tape. The engine sounded good and the exhaust (Vance & Hines Short Shots) was loud, and as I revved it and let off the throttle, it had that backrap sound I always associate with hearing Harleys in the distance.

Kevin was asking $7,900, and I offered $7,500, but he said the price was firm, so I shook his hand and went on my way. Truth be told, I wasn't impressed enough with the bike's condition to even pay $7,500, but I was curious to see how flexible he was.

After stopping for lunch, I went back to T.S.I. H-D to look at their used bike inventory. I sat on a few bikes, but they had nothing that interested me. I decided I don't want a Heritage Softail or a Fatboy, because I don't like floorboards or the angle my knees were bent while sitting on those bikes. I like the leg position of the forward controls on a Wide Glide much better.

Next, I drove about 10 miles to Shark Cycle, a Victory motorcycle dealer in Stafford Springs (and got lost again - thanks, Mapquest!). They have a 2002 Dyna Low Rider listed for about $7,300 on Cycletrader.com. I had called about it a few weeks ago and the dealership's owner, Bob, said someone had put a deposit on it, but was unable to pony up the rest of the money, so he said if I wanted the bike, it was mine. I got busy and forgot about this bike, until I decided to go look at the other bike and figured I'd kill two bikes with one stone, as it were.

My first impression of Shark Cycles, was, well ... not too impressed. The used bikes were crammed so close together that I could not sit on one, or even closely inspect it, without the salesman having to move other bikes. And when I told the salesman that I wanted to start the engine, he tried to see how serious I was about buying it before he walked it outdoors so I could hear it run. C'mon guys ... looking at a bike shouldn't be this much work, should it?

The bike, which had about 15,000 miles, was clean and had forward controls, and its engine also sounded fine. The rear tire didn't have much tread life remaining, but I wondered if the bike had been dropped in the past (the dealer took the bike as a trade-in). There was a dent in the left side of the gas tank; the stock handlebars had been replaced; the rear fender was off-center; and the front tire was worn more to one side (although I've been told that any one of these things doesn't necessarily indicate accident damage).

I noticed something else a bit odd: The tachometer and speedometer housing on the gas tank was crooked, and the rubber gasket was cracked, faded and loose - it didn't fit the general condition of the rest of the bike, and something seemed "off," even though I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Just intution, I guess.

Of course, the owner and salesman tried to get me to commit to the bike with at least a deposit, but I told them I would have to think about it. They would not lower the price. Before I left, I used their bathroom, which had perhaps the weirdest sign I've ever seen posted in a rest room. It read, "Please don't go #2 in here. Ask us about a more private bathroom."

I returned home, having logged 200 miles on my van with no Harley to show for it. Tomorrow, the hunt continues ....

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

2010-01-13T22:11:00.000-05:00

Today, I experienced many 'firsts': It was the first time I rode a motorcycle in the month of January; it was my first motorcycle ride of 2010; and it was my first time riding in temperatures in the 20s. The roads were finally clear of snow and ice (although my landlord's driveway still has packed snow, so to be safe, I walked my bike from the garage to the street).

The first cager I passed on my street shook his head at me, as if to say, "Buddy, you're crazy to be riding a motorcycle in 25-degree weather!" I just nodded at him, unfazed, and glad to be able to ride my scoot. Two wheels still move the soul, even in sub-freezing weather. After a gas stop, I rode to a local bank and then back home, less than 10 miles total. A customer outside the bank said he was impressed I was riding around in weather this cold.

I had more errands to run one town away and was initially going to take my van, but the cold really wasn't too bad and it was sunny, so I decided to take my motorcycle instead. Like I did the last time I rode, I wore ski mittens supplemented with HotHands chemical-activated heat packs, and they kept my digits acceptably (but not toasty) warm and functional.

Strategically planning your stops when riding in weather this cold becomes crucial. I stopped at the North Kingstown, R.I. Town Hall to pay some motor vehicle taxes, and plopped my helmet, gloves and semi-raw hands on top of a hallway heater that was blowing nice, hot air. My taxes helped pay for that heat, so I might as well take advantage of it. Then I rode into downtown Wickford, actually found an on-street parking spot and walked into Wickford Diner, where I claimed a seat at the counter directly underneath a heating register in the ceiling. The waitress, spotting my motorcycle helmet on the next chair, promptly gave me a cup of black coffee. I ordered a very reasonably priced and mouth-watering juicy char-broiled 1/2-pound hamburger with fries, and experienced a little taste of heaven on a cold winter day!

After thawing out and filling up my tank with coffee, beef and carbs, I rode to a nearby meeting, where I reconnected with people I had not seen in several months. One woman said I was the second motorcyclist she'd seen that day - and here I thought I was the only one!

Wishful Thinking

2010-01-08T22:46:00.000-05:00

Why is it that most people who are trying to sell a used Harley-Davidson think they are sitting on a gold mine?

Case in point: A friend of mine, who works for a large corporation that has inter-office computer classified ads, forwarded me an ad he spotted for a 1999 Dyna Low Rider. The woman selling the bike is asking $9,500.

Now, the Kelly Blue Book retail value (a price one might expect to pay at a dealer) is $8,440. But, a private-party sale should be less than retail, since a private seller offers no warranty; you are buying the bike "as is." The trade-in value, according to KBB, is $6,170. So, a $7,000 offer is not unreasonable, in my opinion. Not to mention that 1999 is the year Harley big twins had the cam bearing issues.

The NADA guide values the bike between approximately $5,500 and $6,500 retail, which some feel is more representative of a motorcycle's true value, but most people selling bikes naturally go by the higher Kelly Blue Book values.

Anyway, I called the seller's phone number and informed her that book value on her bike is about $8,500 - IF it were being sold by a dealer with a warranty. I said I would only be interested in the bike if she was willing to consider an offer of around $7,000 to $7,500.

The woman, Jeannine, responded that the book value is $14,000. I asked her what book she got that price from and she said Kelly Blue Book.

Shaking my head, I said, "That must not be same the Kelly Blue Book I'm looking at."

Jeannine acted like $9,500 was a real bargain, adding that she received several calls. She did not offer to lower the price, so our conversation was brief.

It's a strange market for used Harleys. For about $500 less than she's asking for her '99 Low Rider, I could buy a 2005 Night Train from my local Harley dealer.

I just don't get it ... with the economy in the tank, high unemployment, layoffs and foreclosures still a regular occurrence, this is supposed to be a buyer's market. Where's the bargains?

So Many '99s ... and Keep Your Hammer Away from My Harley!

2010-01-05T21:04:00.000-05:00

I really would rather avoid getting a 1999 Harley, but there seems to be a bumper crop of them for sale lately. That was the year the twin-cam, 88-cubic-inch engines made their debut in the Dyna family of Harleys, replacing the reliable 80-cubic-inch Evolution ("Evo") motors.

The '99 (and some early 2000) Big Twins are known for camshaft bearing problems. Not every engine of this vintage will develop bearing problems, but I'd rather not play Russian Roulette.

There is a 1999 Dyna Wide Glide for sale on Craigslist in Milford, Conn. I called the owner, who is asking $7,500 for the bike, last night. It has had some mild customization done to it. The bike has about 14,000 miles, but because the seller is the third owner, he doesn't know if the cam bearings were ever replaced. He told me he'd be willing to sell it for $7,000, but, as I said, I'd rather not buy a '99 unless it was really cheap.

Then, this afternoon, I looked at a 1999 Dyna Low Rider that is for sale on consignment at a custom motorcycle shop in Coventry, R.I. That bike, which also has low mileage (about 12,000), has an asking price of $7,800. But it has been for sale for a year, according to an employee at the shop. This bike was mostly stock and fairly clean, but, after sitting on it, I quickly realized I couldn't stand the 'buckhorn' style handlebars, which put my arms and wrists in a very awkward riding position. While I wasn't crazy about the color (somewhere in between purple and royal blue), the handlebars alone killed whatever interest remained in that bike. (Plus, if it's been sitting for a year, the seller probably isn't too motivated to deal.)

At the shop, the employee showed me an older Road King that had an interesting story behind it. The seller had bought it to fix and resell, but it didn't have accident damage - it was the victim of a bitter divorce. The previous owner's wife got so angry at him that she took a hammer to his Road King, smashing the speedometer and several other components on the bike. Although the bike was salvaged, I'm not so sure about that marriage ...

Wide Glide Didn't Sell ...

2010-01-02T23:33:00.001-05:00

Well, as expected, the 2002 Wide Glide that the seller declined my offer of $7,000 (http://harley-bound.blogspot.com/2009/12/tale-of-two-wide-glides.html), failed to sell on eBay. (The bike was also listed on Craigslist, and the seller had the right to end the auction early if the bike sold locally.)

Bidding in the seven-day auction, which also had a "Buy It Now" option to purchase the bike for $7,799, started at $150. There were a total of 10 bids from seven bidders, and the high bid was $6,000, which failed to hit the reserve price, so the bike did not sell (even though it has been listed at least twice previously, and had its price reduced for the third time, according to the listing). I don't know how much the seller has been dropping the price, but he was only willing to drop it $150 for me.

The auction's results didn't surprise me, since the bids on the majority of Harleys listed on eBay fail to reach the reserve, so a low percentage of bikes listed are selling. From what I've seen, people are only bidding up to around $5,500 or $6,000 for Dynas. I can sort of understand that, since I would not be willing to pay a lot for a bike if I did not see or inspect it in person, and it had no warranty (this was a private-party bike). In that situation, you are basically taking the seller at his word on the bike's condition (I once saw a classified ad describe a car as "mint condition," only to go find the car looked like it had sat in a junkyard the last five years). Of course, photos help, but they don't tell the whole story.

Personally, I would not buy a motorcycle that I did not see in person (this particular bike was less than 100 miles away from me, so I was able to physically inspect it). I will keep looking on eBay in case there are other prospects that are fairly close to me.

My Motorcycling Year in Review: 2009

2009-12-31T16:34:00.001-05:00

Well, with only a few hours left in 2009 as I type this, I guess it's time for a "year in review" retrospective (geez, I hope I don't sound too full of myself, lol). This was a very eventful year for me as a motorcyclist ... mainly because it was my first year as a motorcyclist.

My big goal for 2009 was to own a Harley. Although I did not reach that goal, I still consider my freshman year on two wheels a success.

In January of '09, I didn't even own a motorcycle, and was frantically scanning Craigslist for a ride that fit my modest budget of $1,000-$1,500. Good-running bikes in decent condition are hard to find in that price range.

In February, I went to my first big motorcycle show - the Northeast Motorcycle Expo in Boston - with Spike, Bob Levesque and Mike Chretien. There, I sat on my first Harley and drooled over bikes I couldn't afford. It was eye candy galore and sensory overload. The motorcycle bug bit me hard.

Then, at the end of February, I bought my bike, a 1987 Yamaha Virago, on consignment at Rider's Motorcycles. The original owner had hardly ridden the 22-year-old bike, which still had the original (dry rotted) tires and only 3,000 miles on the clock. I bought it for $1,000, a few hundred less than the asking price, since it needed new tires. Buying the bike was only half the battle, since I then had to get insurance and register it. I ended up having to sell some tools to get that bike on the road.

By the time I registered the bike in March, the snow had finally melted, and I rode that bike every chance I got, even though it was still fairly cold. Actually, I'm kind of glad I got my bike when I did - otherwise, I may have been a fair-weather rider. I was too excited to care about my fingers going numb from the cold. Plus, it made me appreciate the warm weather that much more! Because I had not ridden a motorcycle since taking my safety course the previous October, I started out slowly, sticking to side streets, until I became more confident riding in heavier traffic and higher speeds.

April was a very busy month. On April 5, I rode in my first group ride (the "ice breaker" ride), with my local CMA/Romans 8 Riders chapter. It was a bit nerve-wracking at first, since I tended to fixate on the bike in front of me, instead of the road ahead, but eventually I relaxed a bit and enjoyed the ride. (I now look forward to group rides.) Later that week, I rode to Lincoln, R.I. and then to nearby Massachusetts to the home of a Christian biker for a presentation on sharing the Gospel at bike blessings (that was my first major ride on a highway and sort of a 'test run' for my 535 c.c. bike, which, I disovered, had no trouble reaching 95+ m.p.h. - not that I hit those speeds very often). On April 19, our CMA chapter conducted a bike blessing for the Blackstone Valley H.O.G.s in North Attleboro, Mass., where I blessed my first bike, followed by a hearty breakfast and a group ride. I didn't get to go on the ride with the H.O.G.s because I decided to take my truck instead of my bike that day, because it was just cold enough that my fingers would have been numb by the time I rode up there (yes, I caught a good ribbing from my chapter members for taking my cage!). On April 24-25, I earned my CMA back patch after completing a ministry and evangelism course at the "Seasons of Refreshing" conference in Greenfield, Mass. I rode up in a truck with another guy in my chapter, since he didn't have a bike at the time, and my bike is not set up for a longer highway ride. It was unusually warm for April on the 25th and 26th, the latter date being our chapter's first annual Motorcycle Cop Bike Blessing and Rodeo at Rendezvous Leather in Uxbridge, Mass. I had parking duty, but got to watch the motor officers handle their police Electra Glides as effortlessly as if they were lightweight scooters.

I missed some major biking events in May, including CMA's Run for the Son ride; the Providence shipyard bike blessing; and the special Olympics torch run. I hope to catch all three of these events in 2010.

In June, our Romans 8 Riders CMA chapter held its first annual "CMA by the Bay" bike blessing in Oakland Beach (Warwick), R.I. We were blessed with hot, sunny weather and a great location, stategically located near Iggy's, famous for its clamcakes and chowder, which I shared with Bobby Cesario and his wife Donna, when Bobby and I took a break from hamming it up as we greeted bikers and cagers driving by the park entrance. On June 27, I participated in my first big group ride, the 2nd Annual "A Ride for Tomorrow," (http://www.aridefortomorrow.com) a well-planned ride which began and ended in Attleboro, Mass., followed by a barbecue. I learned a rather embarassing lesson at this ride - when you hear the "start your engines" signal, you better be ready. When the pack began to move out, I was still fumbling with my helmet and gloves and was caught off guard, and had to duck-walk my bike off to the side so I didn't hold up the riders behind me (and I was close to the front of the rather large pack). By the time I got my gear on, I was toward the end of the pack. But I did enjoy the ride and the food afterward.

During the summer, I was voted in as a full member of my Romans 8 Riders chapter. In July, I attended three events: the New England CMA Rally in Chaplin, Conn. (July 10); the 14th Annual Ocean State Hogs and Hot Rods at Ocean State Harley-Davidson in Warwick, R.I. (July 18 - it was hot that day!); and the 4th Annual Motorcycle Ride for Corinna's Angels, in Cranston, R.I. (July 26). It had rained before the Corinna's Angels ride, but luckily cleared up. The guy I was riding next to bore an uncanny resemblance to Toby Keith (who just happened to be in concert locally that day), but it was not him. So he may not have been Toby Keith, but hey, at least he had a Harley and an attractive woman on the back ... maybe I will too by next summer, God willing.

August was kind of a quiet month, although I'm sure I did a lot of solo riding. In September, I installed a passenger backrest on my Yamaha Virago (a real test of my patience, let me tell you), and had my first experience carrying passengers, including two women from my Bible study group; my ex-girlfriend Beth; and a woman from Facebook, of all places. Riding two-up adds a whole new dimension to the riding experience, but my bike is really too cramped and lightweight to carry passengers comfortably (unless the passenger is around 5'0", which two of them were).

By October, the riding season was winding down, at least for the fair-weather riders. I was still riding when I could, but was having electrical issues with my bike, which left me stranded a couple times. I wanted to go on the The Artic Mission Toy Run in Coventry, R.I. on Oct. 26, since I had not been on a group ride in a few months, but was nervous my bike might break down again. I took a chance and went on the ride, and had no problems (I think the problem was due to a poor ground connection, which I corrected a few days before the ride). On the toy run, a deer hit a guy who was riding a Honda trike; thankfully, nobody was hurt (not so sure about the deer, though). The trike's owner, Bob, earned the nickname "Deerslayer."

November rides were scarce, but I rode to Mike Chretien's house in Little Compton, R.I. for a Romans 8 Riders fellowship/potluck. And, on Dec. 3, it was exceptionally warm for that time of year (about 65 degrees), so I rode to our Romans 8 Riders monthly meeting that evening. The first big snow storm about two weeks later, plus colder-than-average December temperatures, pretty much sealed the lid on the 2009 motorcycle riding season.

Okay, so I didn't get a Harley for 2009, but I did get a motorcycle, logged about 6,500 miles on it without injuring or killing myself, and had a lot of smiles to go with those miles. I learned a lot about my bike and its quirks, and got back into wrenching again, something I had not done on a motor vehicle since I drove clunkers in my teens and early 20s. I met a great group of guys and gals in my Romans 8 Riders chapter. All told, I would say it was a successful year, and I can't wait until the 2010 riding season begins. Happy New Year, and God Bless!

Ken

(Special thanks to Sue Caron for maintaining the Romans 8 Riders website on Yahoo. Without the calendar function on that site, my memory alone never could have recalled all the names, dates and locations.)

Tale of Two Wide Glides

2009-12-30T14:42:00.000-05:00

Well, I've decided that Harley's Wide Glide model is my first choice, so the hunt is now on full swing. My first try at one ended in failure (read my last post) and soured me on dealers a bit, so, after taking a break, I decided to look at private seller bikes. I saw a 1999 Wide Glide on my local Craigslist, and a 2002 Wide Glide for sale in Massachusetts (the '02 was being listed on both Craigslist and eBay).

After a flurry of emails and phone calls, I managed to coordinate the schedules of three parties - not an easy task. I can't thank my CMA brother Roland Caron enough for offering his time and resources to help me look at Harleys. The plan yesterday (Tuesday) was for me to stop at Roland's house, then the two of us would go look at the '99 bike (which happened to be less than five miles from his house), and then go look at the '02 bike in Massachusetts.

But the guy with the '99 WG called me a few hours before our appointment and said he just sold it. I wasn't disappointed, because the '99 (and some 2000) Harley twin cam engines had issues with cam bearing failures. This bike had fairly low miles (about 15K), but the seller (who is not the original owner) didn't know if the bearings had ever been replaced. I would have felt like I was riding a time bomb ... I'm avoiding 1999 and 2000 model years, unless I found one at an extremely low price. But this bike had sold, so it was a moot point.

Roland and I drove over an hour to Massachusetts to see the other bike. We plugged the seller's address into Roland's GPS. Even with the aid of satellite navigation, we had trouble finding the house, since it was dark and it was in the boonies. The seller was not much help with navigation, since there were so few landmarks, but, after some aggravation, we found the house.

After nearly breaking my neck sliding down a snow and ice-covered hill in his back yard, I saw the bike, crammed into a shed next to another (metric) bike. It was so cramped in the shed that we had to do the limbo to inspect the bike. It was very clean, with low mileage and no leaks or evidence of damage. Although the seller had warmed up the engine prior to our arrival, Roland said the engine sounded good.

The ever-helpful Roland even brought his helmet and coveralls in case the seller allowed a test ride (it was around 15 degrees that night - what a trooper!). But with the snow and ice on the roads, a test ride was obviously out of the question. Still, Roland gave the bike a thumbs-up.

Since the bike passed muster, the next issue was price; the asking price was $7,900. The eBay listing said the bike's price had been reduced twice. Seeing that most bids on similar motorcycles on eBay only go as high as $5,000-$6,000, it was doubtful it would sell this time either.

I would have been satisfied to get the bike for an even $7,000, but was reluctant to offer more on a bike I couldn't test ride and had no warranty, so that's what I offered. The seller did not actually own the bike; he was selling it for his friend, so he called his friend and left a message for him. This morning, the seller sent me an email saying his friend would not accept $7,000.

"He will drop to $7,750," he wrote. "It will fetch that in the spring no problem."

I emailed him back telling him he might as well wait until spring, since I was not willing to increase my offer.

So, I'm back to square one again ... as much as I love riding motorcycles, I sure hate shopping for them.

My First Serious Harley Prospect - Lessons Learned

2009-12-28T21:25:00.000-05:00

(Disclaimer: Normally, I try to be as specific as possible in my writing, but I am being intentionally vague on certain details in order to protect the identity of the 'other party' in the story. Read on and you'll see why.)

This tale began a couple weeks ago, when I had to run an errand. It happened to be near a place that sells motorcycles, so I stopped there to look at a Dyna with mid controls that was within my price range. The Dyna didn't grab me, but I saw a black, older twin cam Wide Glide I really liked. It was a bit more than I wanted to spend, but I was told I qualified for financing.

I returned to the sales outlet a couple days later to put a deposit on the bike. Although I was pressed for time that day, my intention in putting the deposit down was to hold the bike until I could return a few days later, when I would have more time to give the bike a thorough inspection and possibly take it for a test ride. Before I plunked down my deposit, I made sure to ask if it was refundable should I change my mind about the bike. I was told yes, it was refundable.

So, when I was able to return five days later, my friend Roland and I closely inspected the bike. As sharp as the bike appeared upon first glance, it had some significant problems, including an engine seal that was leaking a fair amount of oil (plus some oil seepage from the bottom of a cylinder head) and some bare electrical wires where the wire insulation was worn away. There was also evidence that the bike had been down (scrapes on a mirror and hand control lever). The salesman, of course, downplayed the problems and suggested that perhaps I would be better off buying a new bike, but he would not come down on price.

At this point, I asked the sales manager for my deposit back, but he balked, and said he would have to run it by the owner. Needless to say, I was not happy (this was the very same manager who assured me the deposit was refundable). I waited three days (it was over a weekend) and called the manager. He transferred me to the salesman, who offered to include an extended warranty at no additional cost.

But they did not offer to fix the problems with the bike (ideally, you would think they would have gone through the bike and corrected any problems BEFORE they put it on the sales floor). Nor did they offer to reduce the price. So I said "no, thanks" to the extended warranty, and requested my deposit back. The salesman called me back a few minutes later and said I could come by that day to get my deposit. I drove up a few hours later and the sales manager gave me a check in the amount of my deposit, but he said that I "basically wanted a new bike at a used bike price."

I disagree with that statement, and so do my CMA friends. This sales outlet was trying to get top dollar for an older bike with problems, when bikes much newer, with much less mileage, are selling elsewhere for very close to the same price. I'm not expecting a perfect bike cheap. I'm just expecting a bike fairly priced.

So, this incident left a bad taste in my mouth, and they lost any future business from me. I did learn from it, though. Trying to do things in a hurry is never a good idea, and I will never leave a deposit on a bike without thoroughly checking it out first.

Speed Trials and Cold Finger Experiment #2

2009-12-27T18:20:00.000-05:00

Thanks to warm temperatures and an overnight rain, I awoke this morning to find most of the foot of snow Mother Nature dumped on us last weekend gone. Plus, it was about 50 degrees and partly cloudy - with January a mere five days away, how could I not take my Yamaha out for a ride?

I called my CMA brothers Cameron and Duke to see if either one wanted to join me for a ride, but I couldn't reach either one. If I was going to ride solo, I at least wanted a destination. I thought about riding to Ocean State Harley Davidson in Exeter, but, after checking online, learned that they're closed Sundays.

So I decided to ride to Home Depot in North Kingstown (exciting, huh?). Although it was close to 50 degrees and I was wearing my insulated leather riding gloves, my fingers started to go numb and turn white after about 20 minutes of riding.

My purpose in going to Home Depot was to buy some "HotHands-2" hand warmers, the packets that you put inside your gloves or mittens. After taking them out of the packaging, you shake the packets, and then have to wait 15-30 minutes for the heat to activate. There is a Dunkin' Donuts next to that Home Depot, so I went inside and drank some hot chocolate while the HotHands heated up, and my fingers thawed out. Once I was ready, I put the gloves in my tool bag, and put the HotHands packets inside some insulated mittens.

The black ski mittens I had picked up for $10 won't win any style awards or "cool points" on a motorcycle, but if they keep my fingers from freezing, I'll deal with the geek factor. Besides, I felt like the Maytag repairman of motorcyclists today, since I saw not even one other biker during nearly 70 miles of riding today - well, unless you count the other kind of 'biker' (cyclist) who nodded at me.

For this "cold finger experiment," I wore no glove liners, only the mittens, which were plenty roomy enough for the heat packs, which I placed on the top sides of my fingers. I could feel some wind infiltration through the mittens, so I was pessimistic at first. But I was pleasantly surprised as my fingers, although not toasty warm, did not go numb or get cold for about one hour of sustained riding (at highway speeds, no less). I rode north from Route 102 in North Kingstown, to Route 2, Route 4, Interstate 95 and Interstate 295, finally getting off the highway at Route 7 in Smithfield, before getting back on the highway to return home. I really had not planned on riding that far or long, but the mittens/heat pack combo worked better than expected.

My thumbs were the first digits to get cold, and I began to get some numbness/whiteness in my fingers after 75 minutes of riding, but that's a lot better than only 20 minutes of useful riding time with my so-called winter motorcycle gloves. If the mittens were made of heavy leather or suede, I think they would be even more effective, especially in combination with some thin neoprene glove liners (perhaps for my next experiment). By the time I finished my ride, the temperatures were in the mid-40s.

For a change, my fingers were not the weak link in the cold this ride - it was my legs. It was kind of damp out, so the moisture didn't help. I do have leather chaps, but I have never worn them - for me, they conjure up that "Village People" image I can't wrap my mind around. It's amazing how deeply the cold penetrates your leg muscles when you're only wearing jeans. Thank God my apartment has a gas fireplace; I pressed my thighs and calves against the glass of the fireplace for a quick thawing out. I may follow up with a hot shower for good measure.

Today's ride was also a test of the fuel system cleaner, Sea Foam, I put in my bike's gas tank a few days ago. Until today, I had not had a chance for a real test ride, although I did notice on the day I added it that it improved my bike's rough idle. As soon as I began to ride my bike, I noticed that it ran as smooth as glass, and had better acceleration, even by my "seat of the pants" dyno.

Whereas before, my bike would only reach a top speed of about 65-70 m.p.h. and seemingly took forever to get there, today, it accelerated to 75 mph more quickly (heck, I was even passing cars while going uphill on I-295), and topped out at 80 on level stretches of highway. That's a 10-15 m.p.h. improvement in top speed from just one tank of gas treated with Sea Foam. This stuff really is as good as they say. And I've read a second tankful produces better results. I'm sold already.

So all in all, it was a good day riding, and the experiments with my bike and riding gear were fairly successful. Next time I go out, though, I will wait until the roads are dry. I wore a full-face helmet and kept having to wipe my face shield due to drizzle kicked up by the cages, so visibility was definitely a problem. When I stopped to get gas, I left my helmet on, and just before I got back on my bike, I grabbed one of those squeegees with windshield washer fluid and used it on my helmet's face shield, while it was on my head. I hope nobody captured that on video and put it on YouTube ...

Put her to bed ... well, sorta

2009-12-24T15:16:00.000-05:00

Since we got hit with about a foot of snow last weekend, I resigned myself to the fact that the 2009 motorcycle season is definitely over. The only thing left to do was put my motorcycle "to bed" for the winter. These days, there's not much involved to winterizing a motorcycle - just put some fuel stabilizer in the gas tank, plug in the Battery Tender (trickle charger) and maybe throw a cover over it.

I was running errands today and had to buy some fuel stabilizer at the local Auto Zone, so I looked for a product called Sea Foam. Several motorcyclists swear by this stuff, which, besides stabilizing fuel, cleans carburetor jets and can cure problems like rough idle and lack of power. My local Auto Zone does carry it, and three of the guys there also sang its praises. It was $9.99 for a 16-oz. can, not much more than Sta-Bil, the most well-known brand of fuel stabilizer, which sold for $6.99.

So I bought the Sea Foam, went home and poured two fluid ounces in my Yamaha Virago's gas tank, which, at about three-quarters full, only had about two gallons of gas in it. I backed it out of the garage and went to start it. The battery was low since I haven't ridden it in about two weeks, and it had barely enough juice to start the bike.

It was cold out, so I had to fully open the choke, and then stepped it down to half-choke after a minute or so, but I have to say, the bike DID idle much smoother. Usually, if I don't ride it for a week or longer, it tends to stall unless I hold the throttle open. It will also stall the first time I put it in gear. But, after the Sea Foam treatment, the bike never came close to stalling, and it purred like a kitten. I was impressed!

As the bike idled in my driveway, which is mostly covered with packed snow, I walked out to the road, which is down to bare pavement. The road was a bit wet from the sun melting the snow. To watch a perfectly good motorcycle running in the driveway seemed like a shame, so I impulsively decided to take the Yamaha out for a quick spin on my street (I wonder if the cages I passed coming the opposite way were surprised to see a motorcycle this time of year). I wasn't behind any vehicles, so I didn't get sprayed with salt, but, if it was a Harley, I would not have taken it out. A little salt on a 22-year-old metric bike I can deal with ....

The ride lasted all of half a mile, and less than three minutes. But, I had problems pulling into the garage. I eased the clutch and the throttle ever so gently, as the rear tire slowly spun and fishtailed, left then right. There's a first time for everything, and this was the first time I had to rock a motorcycle stuck in snow. Bet not too many guys can say that ....

Anyway, I did get it inside with no harm to the bike or myself. I will throw it on the Battery Tender (it already has the quick-disconnect permanently installed on the bike) and wait for God knows how long before another opportunity to take it out.

In the spring, when I can take it for a real ride, I will be curious to see if the Sea Foam will cure the lack of top-end power I've been experiencing with my bike for the past few months (it won't go faster than 70 mph, when it should be good for 95-plus). Over the winter, I may take the carbs apart and see if there are any holes or cracks in the vacuum diaphragms, which, I've read, can also rob top-end power.

Road trip update

2009-12-20T19:31:00.000-05:00

Last month, fellow CMA/Romans 8 Riders member Roland Caron graciously invited me to Daytona Bike Week 2010, which takes place from Feb. 26 to March 7. This would be my first time at a major bike rally, plus a chance to ride in temps in the 70s and 80s, while New England deals with temps in the 20s, 30s and 40s.

Roland goes to Daytona every year, towing a luxuriously-appointed travel trailer (complete with a 'garage' for his motorcycle) behind his heavy-duty Ford pickup. Myself and two other CMA members have been invited to stay in Roland's trailer for a week.

Since Roland goes down for two weeks, and his wife joins him the second week, I would have to provide my own transportation there and back (my cargo van, with my motorcycle in the back), but at least I would have place to sleep and cook, for very little money. Let's put it this way - my share of the campground fee for a week would be roughly the cost of one night's motel stay. Plus, I get to hang out with Roland and some other CMA brothers - and you can't put a price on that, lol.

Roland called me last Wednesday to update me on the plans and give me more details on what to expect for expenses if I decide to go on the trip. It appears my biggest expense may be gas. He said it takes him about five full tanks of gas, each way. My Chevy Express van gets 14-15 mpg highway, roughly the same as his diesel pickup truck, but I have a smaller gas tank, so I might need an additional gas stop. Based on $2.75 per gallon, multiplied by 31 gallons equals $85.25 per fill-up, times six fill-ups, equals $511.50 each way, or a total of approximately $1,000. Oops, I forgot, I will also need gas for the motorcycle!

If I wanted to drastically cut fuel expenses, I could attempt to ride my motorcycle to Florida (I know of a guy from Massachusetts who rides his scoot to Daytona and back), but Roland doesn't recommend this, even with a touring bike, because that kind of continuous riding is very taxing on the body and it would be nice to arrive in the Sunshine State looking forward to riding, not being tired of riding. Besides, I would have to fight the gauntlet of cold weather (and possibly snow) much of the way, and my hands do not take kindly to the cold (see my previous post).

Besides gas, the other major expense would be for food. Some meals would be eaten at the campground (there is a supermarket nearby, Roland said), but since we would be making day trips on the bikes, with early starts, that means stopping on the road and eating out, he explained. Then there is any pocket money needed for souvenirs, etc.

Roland said he plans to leave Rhode Island on Feb. 26, and says I have until mid-January to decide whether I want to go. I would definitely like to go, and I certainly have the time. The only roadblocks are whether I can get a Harley between now and then (I just started looking), and how much money (if any) I have left over from purchase of said Harley. Taking my little Yamaha Virago 535 to Daytona Bike Week just wouldn't be the same as taking a Big Twin Harley ...

Getting closer to a Harley

2009-12-17T20:29:00.000-05:00

"You have caught Harley fever ... an affliction that causes a normally sane and sensible man to turn into a wide-eyed, drooling, impulsive, overspending, freak ... although there is no known cure, other than a HD purchase ... God have mercy on ya." (a member of HDForums.com)

Well, this past week, I have begun shopping in earnest for a used Harley. I've scanned the Internet for bikes for sale at Harley dealers; independent dealers; online classifieds; eBay and Craigslist.

I'm finding that most Harley dealers have a limited selection of used bikes, and most of their used bikes are late-model years. Few H-D dealers in my area have 2000-01 or older model years (I saw a sharp 2001 Wide Glide at a dealer, but it's a bit more than I had hoped to spend - more on this bike to follow).

Online classified sites like Cycle Trader, Chopper Exchange or HD4sale.com, have few bikes I like in my price range.

I've seen some Harleys in my price range on eBay, Craigslist and some independent used motorcycle dealers. Buying a motorcycle halfway across the country through eBay doesn't appeal to me for obvious reasons, so I made a few calls on bikes listed on Craigslist. None of the bikes I called about sounded promising, though. There was a 1993 Wide Glide near me, but I didn't want to look at it since it had a heavily-modified engine and had probably been ridden hard (it sounded like a young dude on the phone).

Other Craigslist bikes in my price range were either a bit older (late '80s/early '90s) than I'm looking for, or else the owners knew little about the bike's maintenance and repair history. I was kind of hoping to find a one-owner Harley that had been lovingly cared for, but apparently there are few out there when you're talking about bikes between 1995 and 2001. At least I didn't come across any so far in my search.

There are two used-motorcycle dealers in Massachusetts and one in New Hampshire that have some used Harleys within my price range, but they tended to be higher-mileage bikes or had some minor damage. One of the Massachusetts dealers had a really clean 1998 Softail Custom advertised for $5,995, but the listing didn't mention the mileage. I called about the bike and was told the odometer was inoperative, therefore, the title was listed as "total mileage unknown." I knew there had to be a reason for the low price. Next ...

Besides calling dealers, I've been doing research on Harley-Davidson discussion groups about the merits of the Evolution (Evo) 80-inch Big Twin engines (pre-1999), versus the 1999-up Twin Cam 88 engines. I'm told the 1999 and some 2000 twin cam engines had problems with cam bearings, so I'm avoiding those two years. Another weak link on twincam Harleys is the cam chain tensioner shoes, not limited to any particular year or years.

Then there is the decision of carbureted versus fuel injection; all Harleys 2004 and newer are fuel injected.

It's enough to make this newbie's head spin, so thankfully, my brothers in CMA - Spike, Roland and Cameron, all Harley guys - have been helping me sort through these issues. All of them have been more than helpful in schooling me.

I was on the phone tonight with Cameron and told him I'm finally about to join the "club" of Harley owners.

"It's the ONLY club," said Cameron, who rides a 2002 Road King. "I'm excited for you!"

At least I've narrowed down (somewhat) the particular models I like, and have even ranked them in order of preference. My first choice is the Dyna Wide Glide (FDXWG), followed by the Dyna Low Rider (FXDL), Softail Custom (FXSTC) and Softail Standard (FXST).

I would consider some other models, such as a Dyna Superglide or Sport; a Fat Boy; a Softail Springer; a Heritage Softail; or possibly a Road King. But for me to choose a bike in this second group, it would have to be an extraordinarily good deal.