Patina of a Remembered Romance

 

I dressed for church – Kevlar lined riding pants, Sunday ride-shirt, mesh riding jacket for the unseasonably warm day (70s in February?), and my western boots suitable for riding (They saved my ass from a spill on the Mulholland Highway once).

I took my open-face half helmet down because this would be a short ride to church followed by taking the long way home, a twenty-mile putt. The gloss of the black helmet was covered with a patina of dust. As I looked over my bike, I could see that they matched with the same dusty haze dimming the tank, saddlebags, fenders… You get the picture. I hadn’t ridden in a while.

It seems my riding has been reduced to quick solo rides when I’m going somewhere by myself. I don’t want sympathy here, I’ve had plenty of that. Here is a short list of why there is a coating of dust on STICKII, which I love to ride, a romance well remembered: Pandemic and the closures of great destinations, caring for and losing my parents over the last two years, and now the duties of closing out their estate, and a calendar rife with responsibilities that need tending to and I can’t shake the guilt if I take a day off for a ride (my own darned fault there). Those last two pretty much shut down any multi-day rides.

I haven’t had a group ride over these past two years either except for the brief one-way ride when I crashed Jed and Sue’s New Year’s Day lunch at Duke’s. Was it two New Years ago? My memory is dusty as well. Along with all the culprits mentioned above we suffered a momentous loss within the core group of riders I have shared the road with. Mr. Tim Robertson was forced into riding-retirement due to health issues resulting in pain that puts him at risk if he rides.

Tim is a master planner of rides and get-togethers. His destinations are creative, fun, and inclusive. His route planning is meticulous and while challenging, never dangerous. The pace he sets from the front of the formation never stresses me, I can fall back if needed and be assured of catching up. Within the group I have learned comfortable lines on twisties and discovered how to be at ease with my bike and in my own rider’s skin while growing my skills.

I have missed my gregarious friend, his warm smile scarcely hidden beneath his beard, feeling welcome and appreciated, and knowing that at the end of the day I will have had a good ride and get home safe. I am saying special prayers for him as he has sold his bike, The Enterprise, the pride of our little fleet. I know it was a sad day for him and I felt a bit of kinship in that as I considered the same fate for STICKII, my Cross Country. After all, it should never get dusty just sitting there, dirty from a well ridden road, yes, dusty in the garage, no.

Tim’s rides and those of the other planners in the group and riding with this group inspired me to write about them, both rides and riders. My Iron Side Up posts have been appreciated by many of you and earned me a ride-name that Tim bestowed on me. Shakespeare. I’ll keep that one, thank you very much, and work to find ways to keep it dusted off.

So, what’s a rider to do now that he’s confessed to ignoring his bike and taking her for granted? Back her down the driveway, washer her down and shine the beauty up. Make opportunities to go out and get some good old fashioned road dirt on her – bugs on the windshield and roll bars, splash marks from wayward puddles, you know – a down and dirty date, long and luxurious and speeding up at just the right moments.

Dust off the helmet, clean the face shield, and plan a destination ride while writing about the planning. What better thing for a writing rider?

Remember friends, don’t let the dust and rust build up, keep the romance fresh and keep the iron side up.

Shakespeare

Me and my Sunday Ride-shirt

Dear LCpl Getscher

Dear LCpl Getscher (Caleb),

This coming September 11, 2016 I will be riding in the Ride to the Flags from Naval Base Ventura County (NBVC) to the 'Waves of Flags' at Pepperdine University. I’ll be riding along with a few friends of mine from the Southern California Victory Riders’ group and in the midst of 500 or so bikers.

I have been reading your story and the bits and pieces of it that I can find on the internet because I’ve wanted to write something for my friends, my family, and the greater riding community so that they will know why we ride the RTTF and to help myself to have a deeper understanding of the event and the man we are riding for, you. We ride, we give, because you count and because your sacrifice has incurred a debt that cannot be fully repaid. I give to help you establish yourself as a new man with new capabilities. I'll ride to show I care, I’m giving to help even just a little.

I confess that I have not served our country in the military and though from time to time I’ve regretted that, or at least considered what it would have been like, I am just as glad that Uncle Sam did not invite me to Southeast Asia. This is probably a part of why I am having such a hard time understanding the depth of your sacrifice, both on the field of battle, and now at home as you continue to work through your loss. You are an incredible man. Thank you for your service – I am sorry that it requires such a drastic sacrifice.

Though my reading about how you were injured and what you’ve gone through in your recovery has been sobering to me, I have come across some things that give me hope. Hope for you, hope for our future. I believe that beyond the persons counted as casualties it is the mothers and spouses of those men and women that feel it most keenly and I’ve seen that your mother and wife are exceptional women who, while they’ve suffered that loss alongside of you, they have also had your back all the way. I thank your mother and your wife for all they’ve suffered and for all they do with you and for you.

The Getschers at home

There is one picture that has stood out for me that gives me hope for you, rather several pictures. They all have two things in common, you and your daughter on your lap. Invariably, she can be seen with the most genuine of smiles and completely at ease with you. You, the man you are right now, is the dad she knows and loves and it is obvious to me that she thinks the world of you. I loved reading how the two of you sprawl out on the floor and play together – it speaks volumes about who you are to each other. Knowing that you have the space to do that and that your home is set up in a way so that you can move about is a comfort to me. It seems that it’s the least we could have done for you. I am thankful for your daughter and what she means to you and your family.

I hope that you find a way to define your new normal and that it gives you a sense of worth and fulfillment. I pray that your new normal gives plenty of room for the extraordinary and that the extraordinary becomes the baseline for your new normal.

Thank you for being a man of honor and sacrifice, a man of dedication and determination and a man who cares for his friends, family, and country. I appreciate you for being a person who takes a stand for the oppressed.

God bless you.

jerry white

This is the link to the Southern California Victory Riders’ donation page for those who want to participate with us in spirit as we ride or who want to join the team for the day of the event: 

Southern California Victory Riders' Donation Page

The Beat Goes On - A 2016 Amazing Motorcycle Adventure Ghost Post

The Quintet from left: Sue and her Oboe d'amore, Jed and his Heckelphone,
Tim and his Cor Anglais (English Horn), Jeannie and her Shehnai,
and Bev and her Hautbois Baryton (baritone oboe)
@ the Dee Wright Observatory

The beat goes on in the Comet Man’s Opus and the quintet, shed of the bit-players are cruising on to Boise, Idaho as I write this, my first ghost post. The Northwest Victory Meeting awaits them with a time of biker fellowship and a full orchestra of instruments both amazing and mundane, all making beautiful music with scheduled renditions of the classics and jazzy riffs of an unplanned nature.

Our heroes for the story have made their way from San Jose (they knew the way there) to Fort Bragg, CA to Coos Bay, OR, and to Bend, OR for a layover day of no riding to tune up for the Boise concert; a meeting up of old friends and the making of still new friends.

Not even a third of the way through the trip and already they have amplified the opus with shopping, drinking, and eating; sights and sounds to tuck away in the memory banks. They’ve seen Trees of Mystery, bays, rivers, and roads to inspire the best of road songs. The quintet has had roadside repairs and puppies, winery repairs to go with a toast or two; wineries and fruit of the vine. Did I mention the Comet Man is a sommelier par excellence?  

@ Naked Winery gift shop

I have perused photos showing them all, including the shot of Paul Bunion and his nearly anatomically correct blue ox, Babe - team members fondly observed those amazing things. Food and wine, wineries and casks of promise…the good stuff. True to their word my friends have taken me with them and rather unceremoniously added me to photos, some best left to the imagination. I love them for this and have been laughing on and off each day. Heaven knows why they put me in a women’s tank top… 

Our Shehnai player’s ride? A 2009 Kingpin, rumored to have been formerly owned by Stephen Thrasher. ‘Twas her bike hoisted on a forklift in a wine cellar (Handley Cellars Winery) for wiring repairs by McGyuver Jed, aka our Hecklephone player. Jeannie rides a very nice line on the twisties and keeps time to the ride like a pro. My day up to San Jose with the group was my first real chance to ride with her and I know it would have been a great pleasure riding with her for the rest of the Amazing Motorcycle Adventrue. She fits very well with the others of the quintet and offers a fine counterpoint along with her distinct harmonies.

Forklift Hoist and Wine Cellar wiring repair ongoing

I offer here a quote from Jeannie that captures the heart of the rider on a grand adventure: “Well, tomorrow is another day of glorious riding, and I can’t wait to see everything that is on the horizon. I really wish my memory was better so I could forever have these amazing times with me but I know I will forever have the best of friends. I can never thank them enough for what they have allowed me to experience!! Y’all are absolutely the best!”

Enjoy the day wherever you are; whatever you are doing, go easy on the binders, and keep the iron side up. Peace

jerry

Post Script: When I ride I recognize other riders using a low two and three finger wave. For groups of three or more riders I add an Iron Side Up salute for the last rider whereby I raise my arm and fist at a forty-five degree angle and give a pump, a howitzer canon salute. When I offer my prayers for this quintet and my other riding friends on the road I punctuate my ‘amen’ with the Iron Side Up salute. Boom! Bless you all.  

On The Memorial Trail

Two memorial services in two days. Consecutive tear evoking emotional roller-coasters that couldn’t have been more different from one day to the next. And yet at their base level they were the same. The cast of our human dramas had changed, the names on the marquee were different, the size and scope of the production were polar opposites, and the lines for the key roles were scripted with different pens. But at the end of each day we’d bid farewell to a friend, parent, sibling, and spouse and the aches in our hearts were all too similar.

Friday, April 1, 2016 Betty M. Horst was laid to rest at the Eternal Valley Memorial Park in Newhall, California, nine short days after her passing on March 23, 2016. Betty is my sister Stacey’s mother-in-law, a relatively recent addition to our extended family with the late summer wedding for my sister and her husband and friend Glen. (I refuse to think we are in the fall season of our lives) About 30 or so gathered in the Chapel of The Oaks at the mortuary. There are a couple of 36” flat screens mounted on the wall just above the chancel, big enough for anyone seated at the back pews to see clearly as the photo montage of Betty’s life rolled throughout the service from black and white portraits through the family shots with Glen as a little boy in suspendered pants and then as a young man with black mustache while wearing Magnum style shorts and finally shots of Betty at various events.

The program for Betty’s service in front of me is a classic “In Loving Memory” style with a photo on the front and historical dates under Betty’s photo. There are a few key photos inside the heavy stock paper document with the 23^rd Psalm printed on the facing page while on the back is more historical data. There was no agenda other than to read the Psalm and talk a little about the woman we knew.

Stacey’s grief was palpable while Glen held himself in check with a key role to play in the service. This was the memorial service for a member of our parent’s generation and was all the more real to us with the struggles of our dad and my wife’s mother ongoing. As folks arrived they came to pay respects to Glen, Stacey, and Gene, Betty’s husband of 65 years. Tears flowed and hugs were exchanged while some words just couldn’t be expressed.

The itinerant pastor took the dais after the mortuary representative welcomed us and thanked us for attending. Itinerant Pastor is my best description for him. He was next in line from Eternal Valley’s call list who spent all of fifteen minutes with the family in preparation for the service. He read the Psalm and spiced his oration, largely about his own experiences, with seeds of hope for those Betty had left behind.

Glen presented his mother to us with words from an aching heart at the loss of his mom. He was eloquent without being flowery. He was honest and direct about how she lived, what her passions and prides were, and what she means to him. When he faltered he gracefully gathered himself to the task and let us come to know Betty M. Horst all the more deeply. Glen provided all we need to hold the memory of Betty close to our hearts as we pray for peace for Glen, Stacey, Gene, and the rest of the family and friends.

After the service each of the attendees made their way over to gather in the courtyard of a Mexican restaurant for appetizers and soda. Cindy, three of Stacey’s kids, Kaylynn, Brad, and Jeff, and I took a table inside and had our own family time when the courtyard setup was overrun. We made a place for Stacey to get a break from it all to join us from time to time. A little Mexican restaurant was where the celebration of life took place and that was all right with us.

On April 2, 2016 I met seven other motorcycle riders at a Shell station in La Canada to ride out to the Centerpoint Church in Murrieta, CA. We picked up a ninth rider along the way and took a businesslike trip down the freeways to join up with another 60 or so bikes in the parking lot. It was a destination ride to celebrate and memorialize our friend and fellow rider, Joe V. Ramos, who had lost his battle with cancer. Cancer sucks.

Joe V. Ramos was taken on February 18, 2016, over 50 days before. Joe was a former California State Park Ranger and a motorcycle enthusiast. I met and rode with Joe and Karen, his wife, on one ride. That’s it, one ride. I wish it had been more. I was touched by Joe through the Facebook posts I saw scrolling through as he battled cancer and finally succumbed. The best that I can explain it is that I was moved by God’s Spirit to write a memorial post to Joe from and with our mutual friends (http://ironsideup.blogspot.com/2016/02/tribute-to-joe-ramos-dear-joe.html).

Centerpoint is a cavernous meeting hall with stackable chairs for several hundred. A 30 foot screen is mounted center stage with two 8 foot screens to either side, both are conservative estimates. The program of Joe’s service is printed on magazine quality paper with his State Parks photo on the cover and a Sunrise of 6/3/1959 and a Sunset of 2/18/2016. This is a man in the early part of my own generation, a peer, if I could be called that. A history of “Team Green” is printed on the inside cover with a photo of Karen and Joe riding off and a photo of Karen, Joe, and his two kids, Amanda and Joe. The contrast to Betty’s service shows up on the agenda. There was meaningful music to Joe and a thorough Eulogy from long-time friend Ken Roybal who Emceed the service that included special guest speakers and presentations from the California State Park Rangers that included a flag which had flown over parks where Joe had loved and served as a Park Ranger. There was a Proclamation from the California State Senate and plaques with various insignia from the State Parks and four riders’ groups; The Inland Empire Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club, The Lost Coast Victory Motorcycle Club, The Southern California Victory Riders, and the Southern San Joaquin Victory Riders Motorcycle Club. I think I mentioned that Joe loved riding and loved riding with Karen.

The service was wrapped up with an open microphone with heartfelt comments from Karen and the two kids who all did a wonderful job of sharing Joe with us. Several friends took the mic and shared stories of Joe. The open mic was followed by a video tribute, closing comments, and an excellent prayer by Kevin Shaw.

We adjourned to ride and eat, two of Joe’s favorite things. We rode in a stately group of seventy bikes or more, complete with blockers and sweeps and a lighted State Parks vehicle. It was a tightly packed and well ridden tribute to Joe and his rider’s legacy. Dale Moews had the honor of riding Joe’s Anti-Freeze Green Victory Cross Country. Dale was as profoundly affected by Joe’s life and death as anyone I met throughout the day. Peace Dale.

We gathered at Ken Roybal’s place in Lake Mathews in the Perris area at the end of our 65 mile ride. We had food and the fellowship of riders and family, two distinctions that blur during our times together.

What draws us to memorial services? I can think of four things and many times our attendance is a combination of the first three. We attend because we are there to honor and celebrate the life now gone by, we go to be a comfort to the family and close friends of the deceased, we go to be comforted, and in the end, we go because we’ve lived a life worth remembering and are the one being celebrated.

Still, why do we have a need to memorialize and remember? I believe it is because we have a deep need to be connected to people, someone special to us. And because of that deep need, once we’ve found someone, we realize that it is difficult to let go without wrapping up our memories with other friends and family members.

As a Christian I have what I’m sure some people, even other Christians, would think of as an odd take on this. It was during that somber 65-mile ride that I considered what Jesus felt about the need to be connected. Did He have it? Yes He did. While it was paramount for Jesus to be connected to the Father, he surrounded himself with close friends, 12 disciples, his mother Mary, Mary and Martha along with their brother Lazarus for whom Jesus wept (John 11:35).

His need was so deep that Jesus took several of his closest disciples with him to pray during the darkest hours of his ministry on earth. He was disappointed when they could not remain awake with him as he faced the final hours of his earthly ministry, his betrayal at the hands of someone he loved, his trial, beating, and crucifixion. The Sacrifice that he made gives us hope as we remember those we love and have lost at their final day with us.

So, for the facts that Jesus wept for a friend, remembered them fondly as they passed on, and made the ultimate sacrifice for us, I say we should memorialize to our hearts content and remember Joe and Betty for the lives they lived, for the love they gave, and that we hold on to them in our hearts to live our lives knowing the difference they made to us.

Keep the iron side up, ride with passion, live with integrity, love like no one does it better… Peace

jerry

Tribute to Joe Ramos - Dear Joe

Dear Joe,

Photo and sentiment courtesy of
Dale Moews

Though we only rode together once and then only briefly, I’ve been moved to write to you. I can’t really explain the motivation for this except that seeing what our mutual friends are saying about you riding on has struck a chord in my heart and soul. I try not to question my muse, He knows too much and His plans are too far-reaching for my limited understanding. One thing I find difficult to understand is why particular people are taken from us and when and how they are taken. I can only hope that by my writing this and sharing it with our friends that someone out there will be touched by it and thereby helped along the road to peace as I have been touched by your friends’ genuine sentiments they’ve shared about you. You’ve left quite an impact.

          You might notice that I’m leaving much of this letter about you in the present tense. That is because that which you were in life on earth lives on in the hearts of those left behind and so they are still valid and not lost to us.

          Yes, you have made quite an impact on your friends. To them you are ‘bigger than life’, a man of quiet strength. Your friend Ken Roybal tells me that you commanded respect from all who knew you. Notice that I said commanded rather than demanded. It is the person you are which drives the respect, it was never anything you demanded. Ken attribute a big heart to you and that you ‘never threw people away’ and are willing to give people two, three, four chances. Translated, that means you are a person of great patience and hope and of great integrity. Thank you for that.

Karen and Joe on Route 66
Photo courtesy of Tim Tarbet

You are a man who loved a lot of things in life; motorcycles, cars, food, and more importantly, your kids and friends. Your friend Dale Moews went on to tell me that the thing you loved most was Karen and that even after sixteen years together you acted like you were newlyweds. I love hearing that about you; your passion for your wife and the genuine way you feel about her. That genuineness carried through to how you care for your friends and the people you’ve just met and how they feel they’ve known you for years. The way people feel comfortable with you so quickly speaks volumes about the man you are at heart. Thanks for that.

          Our friend Brad Parrack told me about how you are a kind and thoughtful man and ‘a tower of a man in deeds, thought, and stature’. He told me of a time that you showed up at a meet point for a ride only to tell the others that you needed to stay home with Karen because she was ill. These things speak well of how you built your life on a foundation of love and how you put that love into action. I believe that love is a verb and requires action, a belief that we share. Thanks.

          Shawn Frausto called me today. You and Karen made a deep impression on Shawn and Danielle. We talked a little about what you mean to him and a couple of ‘G’ words came up. You and your Karen are gracious and gregarious. Gracious in how you opened your home to them after a long hot ride for them to come visit you. You gave them water, space, and a place to be refreshed in mind and body. You are gregarious, you love being around people and they love being around you as well. Shawn told me of how you and Karen made a long ride on your own to meet up with folks to celebrate Shawn’s birthday even though you had to miss the group ride and that looms large in Shawn’s heart. I appreciate what you’ve meant to our friends.

          I noticed a photo of you in a California State Parks uniform. Very sharp. I might be mistaken about this and I imagine I’ll hear the details of it soon, maybe as a result of sharing my letter to you. I understand that you had a career in law enforcement leading up to your Parks service, service being the key word here. From all that I learned about you from our friends it does not surprise me that you were called as a public servant. Honest and honorable, gracious and gregarious, respected and respectful, loving and caring, firm, resolute yet warmhearted. You are a natural at public service because of all of those qualities. I believe that others have seen the way you conducted yourself in your career and are better public servants by your example. This gives me hope for the good guys.

          You’ve left us with quite a legacy and a tough act to follow. Because this is what friends and family do – we take all the good things we know about the ones we lose, we remember the excellent examples of how they lived, and we do our best to honor those memories in how we live and love. And that’s what we’ll do with you, remember your best and be the better for having known you.

          I’ll finish up with this as a prayer, if you don’t mind, for you, Karen and your kids, and the friends who are hurting at losing you. This is a couple of stanzas from a song I sung with a handful of guys early in the morning I started writing this letter. You were fresh on my heart and mind at the time and the tune rings true for you.

          From 10,000 Reasons:

The sun comes up, it’s a new day dawning;

It’s time to sing Your song again.

Whatever may pass, and whatever lies before me

Let me be singing when the evening comes.

You’re rich in love, and You’re slow to anger

Your name is great, and Your heart is kind.

For all Your goodness, I will keep on singing

Ten thousand reasons for my heart to find.

And on that day when my strength is failing,

The end draws near, and my time has come;

Still my soul will sing Your praise unending;

Ten thousand years and then for - - evermore!

         

Peace my friend,

jerry