Improv Ride

My friend Webster told me this morning about two words, improvisation and impromptu.

Improvisation is the ‘act or art of improvising’ or ‘something, as a musical or dramatic composition, improvised’. Not so helpful so to improvising which ‘is to compose, recite, play, or sing extemporaneously or to make, invent, or arrange offhand’. Yes, that’s what I’m talking about.

Impromptu is so closely related that he simply says “a musical composition suggesting improvisation.

Improv, ‘of or relating to improvisation’, needs only an ‘e’ at the end for another very cool word, improve.

Let me say this about those words; my impromptu ride this morning has been full of improvisation and has improved my mood and giving me a desire to write.

KSU was before seven this morning with the only two known objectives in place; to ride through Malibu Canyon and then find a remote office to write. I made up the route as I rode and wasn’t sure if I would head north or south once I hit PCH and I was happy with that as I pushed off.

I wanted to avoid the San Fernando Valley freeways during the morning commute as much as I could so I headed up La Tuna Canyon, out of the Crescenta Valley and into the other valley. I let two radar busters out ahead of me on the canyon road and out to the valley streets that I used to ride out to CSUN for class in the mid- seventies and then when I drove in a company car with my partner Steve Worth back in the early eighties. Traffic was okay all the way through but I needed to put down my face-shield to hold off the mist even with the hit of blue skies here and there off to the north. I had the added benefit of keeping the early commuter’s morning nicotine infusion at a minimum, they smoked as they drove and drank their coffees for the morning caffeine hit. Those, and our own personal, ‘ines’ will be the death of us one day or, at least hasten them on.

I rode past the 101 West onramp at Balboa Avenue watching the traffic crawl west as I went under the freeway. Randy Newman was calling me to Venture Boulevard so I took that northwards to avoid the stop and go on the 101 for the stop and go of the traffic signals on the boulevard. I fueled up at Zelzah and Ventura, I love saying that name, even typing it is fun. Go ahead, say it. “Zelzah”.

I fired up my CCR station on Pandora and listened to The Beatles’ “Here Comes the Sun” as I pulled back on to Ventura Boulevard but got tired of the boulevard in Tarzana and I jumped on the freeway to lurch and crawl along while being amazed at the number of people escaping the megalopolis early on a Thursday morning. The traffic had just cleared as we reached the saddle of the pass heading down to my off ramp at Las Virgenes Road.

Riding in the midst of a caravan of cars isn’t the same as riding with a group of biker friends. Clapton’s “Layla” saved the run through Malibu Canyon. There is nothing like a great blues guitar riff for finding a rhythm for the road.

PCH is my favorite road. I love seeing Pt. Dume poking into the Pacific as I turn onto PCH to head north past many of my old haunts from Paradise Cove days. I made my traditional stop at the Mugu Lagoon (see my current FB cover photo). I let the earlier promised sun warm my back as I looked over the brilliant green wetlands dotted with equally brilliant white egrets. The strip of buff sand demarked a cobalt ocean dotted here with a fishing boat, there with a white-sailed yacht.

From the overlook, over the wetlands
toward the point

Just like my front deck, the overlook
needs a little TLC

My breakfast was consumed and my rough draft nearly done, time to head for home. As I write this I only know that I’ll head home via the rural 118 and stop for some impromptu strawberries. I suppose that since I foresee the strawberries they can no longer be considered improvisation. Oh well, I can still improvise some mischief when I get home, there will be strawberries.

 Y’all keep the iron side up and do something extemporaneous today. Improvise, adapt, overcome.

jerry

PS – The strawberries are excellent and well appreciated.

Heavenly Transport

Naked Voices - Spring 2015

Voices raised in harmonies and tones, beats and reverberations, rang out through the hall. Naked Voices blended in ways that bespoke and confirmed my belief that God deposits a bit of His creativity in each of us. These young musicians, Brothas From Otha Mothas, Vocal Motion, and Intervals have touched upon the Mother Load and worked their craft to refine the ore and graced us in the purity of their performance. Thank you.

Sundaes on Sunday, how can I have said no to that? The after dessert fair the concert was kicked off by Brothas From Otha Mothas (BFOM, all male a cappella) with a rendition of Come Sail Away by STYX written by Dennis DeYoung. I saw waves breaking, heard gulls crying out, and was transported pleasantly away to carry on. Thank you BFOM.

Vocal Motion (VOMO – all female a cappella) followed up with a RAP/Hip Hop medley out of which I did not recognize any of the songs. You’ll just have to forgive me on this one because I just might have been the oldest person in the audience this past Sunday night, certainly in the top two percent – finally, I’m in the top of something. Nevertheless, while they sang never gonna get us I might have a gotten a little glimpse of them. The group was in constant motion and their sound was an eruption from the soul, I was delighted to see, hear, and feel their performance. Thank you VOMO.

I have a little observation tempered by my long career in the phone factory. Telephone men like their acronyms and I noticed that a cappella groups do as well. It must be a communications thing. What?

InterVals, the co-ed group of seven between the first two openers and the host group sent us a long with a rendition of _____. When I stalked their YouTube channel I noticed they sported several more voices on other occasions. I won’t hesitate to tell you that I closed my eyes and felt carried along like a raft on a stream, I love that easy-going way that rivers have while moving through the country. Thank you InterVals.

Naked Voices, sixteen co-ed voices deep, hosted Happy Sundae as the last concert of the year and honored their outgoing seniors, my nephew Trevor among them. With a full ten-song set plus an encore to pay tribute to, my post will run longer than my personal word limit but since it’s my blog and my limits I can stretch them when I want. The group is full-bodied, like a good Merlot.

You’re the One I Love, lead solo _____; you can’t close the door on this performance, it made me want to give a standing O. The energy bundled in the execution of the piece was barely contained, contagious, and was a fine kick off for the set.

Rather Be by Clean Bandit, solo ______; there was no place I’d rather have been, I loved the life NV gave this rendition. There was something satisfying listening to a love song while being with my core five, wife, three kids, and me. There will be times when we’ll be a thousand miles from comfort, make sure to have someone in your heart to love and you’ll be where you want to be.

Being a child of the sixties, The Beatles Medley hit me where I lived back then and evoked memories of crazy sing-alongs, then and now. Leading with Paperback Writer sucked me right in because it’s no secret now, I want to write something worthy of putting out in paperback. Hey Jude with my nephew Trevor on solo was awesome. We are thankful to Naked Voices and all that you’ve meant to him.

This Love by Maroon 5, solo performed by _____ was par excellence, sung with feeling and honesty. Loved it.

Fix You by Coldplay, senior solo sung by Trevor; one of the purest things that I’ve seen or heard Trevor do and he’s as honest a person as I know. I know he touched the audience as a whole but it felt like he was singing to each of us from the depths and so, from this song my hope for us all is to have someone sing to us “Lights will guide you home and ignite your bones and I will try to fix you.”

Treasure by Bruno Mars, solo performed by _____. Full of life, your energy was contagious. Contagious in a good way but brings me to another observation. A cappella crowds are a rowdy bunch and very demonstrative in their delivery of appreciation, love it over and over again.

I’ll break here for a couple of personal notes; most often the beat box guys/gals are standing alone and I just wanted to run on stage and hug them so they wouldn’t feel apart from the scene. And, we heard that otters hold hands while they sleep so they won’t drift apart. With all the love songs and songs about love and this being a senior night with summer staring us in the face allow me to say this about drifting; I have seen in print and am grateful to have it in my life – the best of friends though separated by time and distance never drift apart and when reunited take up where they left off. May it be so for all of us and our best of friends.

Woods by Bon Iver, solo by _____, amazing tones with harmonics especial. Time was slowed down and I was amazed at the end of the concert that time had barely passed.

_______ by _______, solo by Sheila, an organizational maven who sings like in instrument played by angels. Happy trails Sheila, you’re wonderful.

Love the Way You Lie (Part II) by Rihanna, solo by _____; a wonderful rendering of a disturbing song. Always be a hero but I suggest we do it without lying, my personal bias.

The Michael Jackson montage was electric with energy and the joy of performance, the perfect way to the end the official set. Great choreography, the wolves were especially captivating.

The encore wrapped things up nicely, “where there is love, I’ll be there.” Can’t go wrong with that. May there always be an encore.

While I try not to engage in wishful thinking too often, with the possible exception of the lottery, I do attempt to participate in hope and prayer and mine for you all is that nothing comes along to keep you from singing, that life gives you plenty to sing about, and that there is always someone in your life to cause you to raise your voice in song.

         

In His Grip,

jerry

Keep the iron side up.

Ride for Guides - 2015

The sky was lead-gray and the crisp chill of the mid-morning air worked its way under my helmet as I wove and worked my way down the mountainside to reach a noble destination… Okay, so I live in a hillside community of Southern California and it was overcast and fifty-five degrees when I left the house to go on a charity ride. The weight of this new handle is mak’n me stretch.

Bev, Bike, and Guide Dog,
a collection of nobility
(photo courtesy of Tim Robertson)

I had been looking forward to this ride for weeks and riding down the hill on a cool day with excellent weather prospects heightened my anticipation of a new experience. I’ve only been on one other charity ride, a simple affair where we paid our entry fee, gathered, and road to a destination for lunch. The “Ride for Guides 2015” was on another level as I hope to show you here.

I arrived at the meet-point for our small group of Victory riders a little early to find Shawn Fausto airing up the tires of his Cross Country. He greeted me while I was topping off my tank and told me to join Danielle and him in McDonald’s for coffee while we waited for the others. We watched as they rode in and fueled up; Ken on his white VCC, Jed and Tim on their Visions, and Bev on her Vegas. Our Victory group was joined by three new friends who met up with Bev on a weekend ride to Morro Bay to celebrate International Women Riders’ Day; Lorrie and Kathy on their classy Harleys and Dottie on a very cool Goldwing Trike.

We jumped up to the Route 66 Classic Grill in Canyon Country to register for the poker run, my first, and buy raffle tickets for silent auction items and get our pins and bandanas. We found bikes of every description, make, and model. 511 riders had registered on over 380 bikes making this the biggest ride event that I’ve been involved with. Bikes were all over the place scooting here and there and we were encouraged to head off in small groups so as not to overload the route. A few out-of-the-box thinkers went the reverse direction which led to us seeing each other going the other way.

The route took us through Bouquet Canyon with a midpoint stop at Big Oaks Lodge for live music and guide dog puppy petting and our second card draw. I had a straight going, a weak hand to pit against 500 others - oh well. Ken Mann would later win the $50 third-place prize with four Aces and a Nine, beat out by 5 6's. The next stop was Vincent Hill Station for a third card that only kept me in the hunt for the straight. We lost our new friends leaving this location and I felt responsible since they were behind me at that point. I’ll need to improve my skills at keep tabs on the group if I hope to be a decent sweeper. It turned out okay as we all ended up at the lunch table together to hear the tribute delivered by an amazing young lady, more on that in a bit.

Jed led us on an alternate route to the fourth stop at Guide Dogs of America in Sylmar. We went through the Angeles National Forest and down into Sunland, only a few hundred yards from the first house my wife and I had. We had picked up three other riders who started following us on the alternate route, however they were unable to keep up with us but with me in the sweep position it shouldn’t have been too difficult to stay with us. The Goldwing rider was the last to lose us who later said we were flying, I didn’t feel it was the case but then we ride Victories.

We had a stark reminder that vigilance was especially critical with so many riders on the road and not knowing the patterns or capabilities of the others. Shortly before coming out of Bouquet Canyon we came upon a rider who had gone off the roadway, presumably across the oncoming lane into the rock and dirt shoulder. The rider was up but appeared shaken with friends working to get his bike upright, it was a mess with the handlebars bent down, the headlight smashed leaving the glass on the tarmac, and what looked to me to be bent forks. I was amazed that he was standing and the sight sobered us up as we speculated as to how he came to be in the condition we found him. We need to remember to amp it down a notch with such a collection of riders out on a notable cause.

Pin and Bandanna

Back at the Route 66 Classic Grill for lunch, the awarding of prizes, and some good music we were first treated by our host for the festivities delivering a heartfelt thanks to us. Lorri Bernson stood at the microphone as a reminder that sight impaired folks are pretty normal. To look at her I would not have said she was blind; no dark glasses, no red-tipped white cane, and delivering the speech while scanning the crowd. She gave a profound thanks, telling us that her guide dog Carter allows her to know that she is safe and to act with confidence in that fact. The impact of what she told us was visceral to me and made me thankful that by riding that day I had played a small part in the next person living a more confident life with their four-legged caretaker.

Lorrie gave us the numbers for the day as mentioned above and numbers to go along with her own story of the great changes a guide dog makes in the life of the blind. It takes approximately $42K to put a guide dog team together, human and dog. There is no government funding, Guide Dogs of American rely strictly on donations from companies, organizations, and private individuals, and events like our poker run. If you are looking for something worthwhile for giving, keep them in mind.

Y’all keep the iron side up and give; giving till it hurts isn’t a bad thing.

DV '15 - Goodbye Peggy Sue

DV ’15 – Goodbye Peggy Sue

         

It’s the same thing every time. The last leg of the trip comes, we’re gearing up to take off after the final stop, and someone says, “Hey! This is it. We have to say goodbye…”, and we scamper around the bikes giving out hugs to everyone and thanks to the leaders for such a great trip and a marvelous plan. Our goodbyes took place in the parking lot of Peggy Sue’s 50’s Diner in Yermo, California.

To get to Peggy Sue’s we started out in the lobby of the Red Rock Hotel in Las Vegas for a Starbuck’s breakfast, outline the plan for the day, and refresh the bonds required for a good tight group-ride, something we’d need for the ride along Highway 15 from Las Vegas to the Southland of California. As it turned out, nobody in our group broke the bank of the Red Rock Casino nor had any of us drained our accounts in the attempt; additional proof to me that our stay there was more about the journey getting there than being there. It is often the case for me, and I’m sure at least some of the others, that a ride like the one we’d had the day before overshadows what can be found at a hotel.

We had a nicely disciplined run from Vegas to Yermo and the nature of the road demands it. Around the lunch table at Peggy Sue’s we remarked with pleasant surprise how clear the center divider was on this day when all of us who’ve traveled the route have seen overturned cars and tipped over trucks on the shoulders and in the center dividers on many occasions. People are nutcases on this road trying to force their wills on the overcrowded lanes to top speeds in the mid-eighties and faster still. Our group stayed nice and tightly formed to discourage bad driving maneuvers by poor drivers, you know the ones I’m talking about – those a-holes that race up to the car in front of them and cut dangerously in front of the next lane to save all of a few precious seconds only to be passed by the very car they tailgated because they are such poor tactical planners. Even on a Monday, we saw plenty of that.

Jed and Sue at Peggy Sue's

Peggy Sue’s was the ideal place for our lunch stop having a table reserved for parties of nine or more which fit our nine-count perfectly; Kevin had opted to stay over in Vegas to attend a training course readily available in town. The décor of the diner is a nod to everything fun from the fifties and the wall behind us was a tribute to The Wizard of Oz. I was sitting across from Jed and Sue and got a great photo of them with Dorothy’s companions looking over their shoulders. Items on the menu are named for the fifties stars, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, Fabian French Dip, Chubby Checker…

The Turgator as coined by
Brad Parrack/Huell Howser
Photo from Tim Tarbet

Interestingly enough Peggy Sue’s has a Huell Howser cheeseburger and Huell visited us as channeled by our own Brad Parrack in a nature documentary out back in the Diner-Saur Pond and Garden with Huell, as interviewed by Jed as they discussed the Turgator in particular and other amenities found in and around the pond. The other highlight for our farewell walk was, fittingly, Sue doing a dance on the Peggy Sue Stage.

Peggy Sue's DinerSaurs
Photo from Tim Robertson

My dino shot

Vicki Peterson put a fantastic trip video together featuring Sue’s number as the finally and the Huell Howser interview as well. I’ve posted the link to the video at the bottom of this post. Tim Tarbet also posted a shorter ride video earlier in our trip and can be found on his FB page. As of the writing of this post there had been 580 views of his video. Vicki included Tim’s video with her longer video. I recommend both.

A few parting photos followed our goodbye hugs and wishes/admonitions for safe travels and then we were on the highway again. I’m sure the others can attest to this as well – riding affords me some measure of solitude in the midst of the rushing crowd. The final leg of a group ride allows me the time to zero in on each of my riding companions and consider what I know of them as well as the great amount that remains hidden. As each rider or sub-group of riders peeled off from the group I stayed with, I considered them and directed thanks and prayers for their safe travels. As with all my trips, I am left to myself to consider the whole trip as I pull up the drive. I learn about the people I’m with as well as about myself when I ride and this trip seemed even richer for it. Maybe it’s because I’m deeper into my writing and considering how best to show in words what my mind and heart are seeing in pictures and feelings.

Y’all keep the iron side up and stay tight with your mates.

Video Links:

Vicki P: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M_yq9I-bo-w “So Cal Victory - Lone Pine, Death Valley and Red Rock National Park Ride - 4/26/2015”

DV '15 - The Ride - Part II

DV ’15 – The Ride, Section II  of Lone Pine to Las Vegas

We made it to our brunch reservation at the Inn at Furnace Creek with room to spare and within minutes of the Las Vegas pair joining us; Mike on his Cross Country and Kathy on her Kingpin Trike, a very cool looking arrangement.

Furnace Creek Inn Pool and View
Courtesy of Tim Robertson

We had time to explore the Inn which was built by the Pacific Coast Borax Company in 1927 and has been grown and seriously upgraded since, several times over. Views of the pool and the valley are very nice and spa amenities are tempting. We had time to catch up on communications and jot down a few notes before enjoying our breakfast buffet and freshly made to order omelettes at adjoining tables, catching up with Mike and Kathy and just generally chatting up food and riding, two or our favorite things to talk about.

Photo of an old Furnace Creek Inn photo from
Brad Parrack

Dante's View adventurers
as posted by Kevin Shaw

Caravanning out SR 190 we heeled over to a 13-mile side road to Dante’s View with posted road signs that warned of progressively more strict vehicular constraints until the last half mile no trailers were allowed. It was a technically challenging little ride up to a spot that overlooks Badwater with the lowest elevation in the United States at 282 below sea level while we were standing at 5475 feet in elevation. The view was stunning. Brad pointed down to the road leading through the mineral-hued dry lake bed and said that he wanted to be down there. I looked across the valley and tried to find my old helicopter access only MW repeater site on Mormon Peak but I’ve never been able to find it without binoculars. Several of our riders spread out along a short walking trail to another view point…we are an adventurous bunch.

Dante's View
Courtesy of Tim Robertson

A chill wind blew as we descended from Dante’s View. Only when we reached the floor of Greenwater Valley did the winds die down and allow the sun to warm us. That was how it was all day; up in elevation and the edge of chill and down to the valleys and the edge of warm.

I can’t tell you exactly how we got to Pahrump NV; we got turned around and I last track completely of the route – an advantage to being in the middle of the pack and without the mantle of “Ride Leader” draped over my shoulders. Since the second half of my book takes place in Pahrump I refreshed my recollections as we rode through town and then down the Highway 95 to our next destination, Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area.

A view of Red Rock Canyon landscape from
Tim Tarbet

Bev on her Vegas cruising
Red Rock Canyon
Photo from Tim Robertson

Red Rock Canyon is managed by the BLM and I had no idea that such a place exists within fifteen miles of Las Vegas. The appearance of the canyon was startling with the red-orange spectrum of rocks and crags jutting out of the beige and olive-green landscape. It’s as if God Himself dripped the color off His pallet while painting the rest of the world on His paint-by-numbers set and decided to leave it because why not surprise people whenever you can? During the 13 mile, one-way loop, we could have stopped every few hundred yards for a different view but limited them as best we could. Our late afternoon timeframe gave softer light in which to enjoy the show; my two favorite times of day in the desert are the morning and evening hours when the low sun softens the harsh desert landscape and in Death Valley it can be so harsh as to seem as though we were riding on Mars. I can see myself going back and taking the better part of a day doing the loop, hiking around and perhaps bringing out a 4X4 to drive into the Red Rock Canyon proper.

My room view with Red Rock
Canyon in the distance

Our evening check-in at the Red Rock Resort in Las Vegas gave us just enough time to hike through the massive casino, check-in, trudge to our rooms, shower, catch up with folks, and make it to The Yard House for a very nice dinner that launched a couple of folks back to the casino to play, others to hang out, and me to my room to jot a few notes and reflect on what was a very full and amazing day with extraordinary people.

Y’all be keep the iron side up, something amazing is just around the corner…I’d love to hear about it when it happens.

DV 15 - The Ride Part 1

DV ’15 – The Ride, Section I of Lone Pine to Las Vegas

         

To read this post’s title one would think that we simply got on our bikes one Sunday morning in Lone Pine and rode to Las Vegas to partake in all the things that happen in Vegas that stay in Vegas – a destination ride like the one we’d made the previous day in getting to Lone Pine. Lone Pine was the place we wanted to be and we took mostly long straight highways to get there and made stops for food, rest, and a meet-up in a cool old mining town – destinations. I don’t discount the destination ride; I make plenty of solo destination rides and they are almost always superior to driving them. As reported, we rode along some fantastic roads with views of stormy Eastern Sierra Mountains that just cannot be as fully appreciated in a cage.

However, our Sunday ride, while it did include a destination with a specific arrival time, was anything but a simple destination – it was about the road experienced in 360^os with all of our senses tuned to the pathways, the riders around us, and the vistas that we became a part of. In this post, I’ll take us up to the brunch stop but not inside.

Sue - ready to ride
courtesy of Tim Robertson

We mounted up and left Lone Pine after a quick breakfast at the Alabama Hills Café, if we are allowed to consider half a freshly made cinnamon roll breakfast. Since our one deadline was a reservation at The Inn at Furnace Creek for the brunch buffet, the roll was enough (and tasty enough) to get us there but hungry for a big meal. I stepped back from my bike for a moment and watched the others making their pre-ride preparations; stowing gear in saddlebags, strapping on luggage, hooking up GPS and phone units, checking their pockets and zipping up jackets, and doing circle of safety walks around their bikes. Having finished hers, Sue leaned up against the block wall that she scaled the evening before and soaked up the gentle rays of the sun, collecting them for our chilly ride into Death Valley.

From the parking lot of the Dow we hopped down the 395 a short way to SR (State Route or old Sign Route) 136 and along its length riding along Owens Lake, a dry lake bed, to SR 190 which took us to and all the way through Death Valley National Park. I have traveled all of these roads over my 19 years as the Microwave Radio Network Planner for AT&T using a little Jeep Cherokee at first and then a full-sized crew-cab Silverado 4X4 pick-m-up truck. There is no comparison to driving these roads for work and riding them for sheer pleasure. Don’t worry, I stayed 19 years in this position because I was able to drive roads like this and go places few people do, in particular to Mormon Peak that at nearly 10,000 in elevation provides a vista view of Death Valley seldom seen.

Tim Tarbet's gem
of SR 190...

SR 190 quickly wound us up and into the Panamint Mountains, past Rainbow Canyon, through a pass with the Argus Mountains to the south and our right, and past the Panamint Springs Resort where we were afforded a view down the highway into the Panamint Valley, across the white strip of the Panamint Dry Lake bed and a preview of the route ahead of us up into the mountains on the other side. I have never seen a photo that represented the feeling of the ride better than the one that Tim Tarbet took from just after the resort; I could define the ride that day by his photo. There are several great shots of this view but Tim’s hit the Facebook community and spread like wildfire.

The road ahead from Kevin Shaw

Carving through the hills and down into the Panamint Valley we were as tuned as a wedding orchestra; the subtle variations of tone and tempo showing up in our spacing and slightly varied lines through the curves. Our bikes lifted sand-swirls from the grains hidden in the cracks of the asphalt and they wiggled across the road like sidewinders across the dunes. Rooster tails were tossed up behind each bike and we had to adjust our positioning to avoid pitting our rides and face shields. We changed the tune to adjust to each mountain range, pass, and long straightaway that adjoined the various wilderness areas we rode through.

The crew, ready top re-mount
at Stovepipe Wells
from Kevin Shaw

We fueled up at Stovepipe Wells, home of the Badwater Saloon, and where we had hoped to pay our entry fee there but were instead referred to the visitor center in Furnace Creek, just a few short minutes shy of our scheduled breakfast stop. SR 190 passes by sand dunes that do the desert justice. While you really couldn’t get lost in them, you can drop down on the other side of the first dune and feel the need to grab your canteen. We rode through Devil’s Cornfield and hooked around to the south at the turnoff for Grapevine and Scotty’s Castle. The cornfield is born of Arrowweed bush up-croppings standing sentry duty in the Mojave. Arrowweeds taller than a person can be found a good walk in from the roadway.

Brunch was a short-hop away with a quick stop at the visitor center for Jed to pay our entry fees. I dare say that we could have easily traversed the park as we did without paying the fees. I don’t advocate that we do that at any time as the fees go to take care of the parks that we enjoy. I’m just pointing out that DV National Park could upgrade the entrance process.

Off the soapbox now and on to completing the ride, section two post…

Please, keep the iron side up.

DV Ride '15 - Lone Pine - After Ride Comportment

    

The Dow and Beyond
unless otherwise noted, photos are
courtesy of Tim Robertson from
the group's Death Valley Facebook
Album

We made our overnight stay at the Dow Villa Motel & Historic Dow Hotel in Lone Pine, a nice place with amazing views of the Eastern Sierras. The ride in, as reported in my last post, was a windy ride with great views and exceptional riders. Lone Pine is a census designated place (CDP) in Inyo County, CA located in the Owens Valley near the Alabama Hills and is a gateway to the Eastern Sierras with views of the major peaks including Mount Whitney, the highest peak in the continental U.S. The Census Bureau calls the area ‘frontier’ and the town reflects the designation. The Dow is set up with nice rooms, easy access to the town and, for our night’s stay, boasted freshly boiled ‘man stew’ as aptly named by Sue, more on that in a bit.

Regarding my use of ‘comportment’ in the title:

I confess to feeling a little pressured having received my motorcycle handle and nickname ‘Shakespeare’ by Tim Robertson. When I remarked that Shakespeare is a tough act to follow, Tim simply said, “I set the bar high”, just like somebody who likes sending things to outer space would. Fortunately the bar is so high that I’ll be able to walk right under it with no problems and I replied as much to Tim.

‘Comportment’ is attributed to Middle French with its first known use in 1589 and means “to behave in a manner conformable to what is right, proper, or expected” as defined by my good friend Webster. I’m quite sure the French stole the term from The Bard of Avon himself; the timing is just about right. I am equally certain that our behavior was right, under certain definitions, properly fun-loving, and about as expected by me based on my all too few previous day-rides with the group. That being said, not everything that transpired will be published as recorded in my now infamous pocket composition book – I’ll probably need the leverage at some point in time.

Comportable behaviors observed (and participated in) in Lone Pine:

Pizza Factory mustachio tribute
to Jim Liston

We ate dinner that night at the Pizza Factory and became part of their ’30 Years of Awesomeness.’ We wanted a place with a big table so we could talk and be as loud as needed to be heard. We only ran out one couple who preferred the MMA bout on TV to our selection of an NBA Playoff game. The place was better with the game on in the background and our conversations were animated with tales of the day’s ride. In tribute to our absent good friend Jim Liston we sported Pizza Factory mustachios and they were awesome.

We needed to walk off the pizza and our party stretched out along Highway 395 which acts as ‘Main Street for Lone Pine. A few of our members were intrepid enough to walk all the way to the end of town and there discovered a Carl’s Junior. Another pair shortstopped to a general store and provisioned up with a nice bottle of wine for the evening and shortly after they rejoined the main body of walkers Tim R and I checked out a real estate listing that would allow Cindy and me to have a decent place without a mortgage if we didn’t mind living in the frontier.

Our route back to the rooms took us by the pool and we were offered a view of the spa which contained seven or eight men in a bubbling bowl that would be comfortable for six. Sue exclaimed, “Man stew!” and subsequently was hoisted up the back block wall to overlook the spa for a photo and to address the men. She reported confused looks of consternation but their behavior was comportable for adventure-bikers that go into the deep frontier together.

"Man Stew!"

Sue's view of man stew,
Vicki aids and abets. I'm
the innocent bystander

Taking Notes
Photo courtesy of Kevin Shaw

Once we gathered in Tim T’s John Wayne room, complete with a bar, stools, and a seating area (that guy always goes first class), the only thing missing was a campfire. The wine aficionados shared with all who wanted and we sat around talking and sharing; about rides in the past, where we’d like to ride in the future, what our first jobs were and interesting tidbits about them, Vicki’s close encounter with the bison in Yellowstone, and a host of reminiscences that kept the campfire lively. Jed afforded Tim R a towel when we talked a bit about the gaming that would be available the next day in Vegas and Tim salivated a bit much. The room grew quiet whenever I flipped open my little notebook so I put it away in favor of the digital voice recorder in my pocket.

These are the times that I cherish most and I’ve had many and can only use the word ‘blessed’ when I think of them. This trip was full of opportunities to talk and share; the John Wayne room, little walks with one or two others, and every meal time. I’ve had many other times like this; campfires in the wilderness to the west of Lone Pine on backpack trips, after-game dinners and bus rides with teammates, actual campfires with my in-laws, parties, road trips with family and friends, times of affirmation with junior and senior high kids and their advisers, fishing with my dad or kids. And I’ve known them during times of solitude while walking along the beach or in the mountains and deserts, and during solo rides. Raucous laughter, quiet discussion, yelling, whispering, or not, there is something exciting and exquisite about getting to know someone, even if it’s yourself.

Y’all be comportable whenever possible; when not, have fun anyway and keep the iron side up.

STICKII and Bev's Vegas at the Dow in Lone Pine
from my camera roll