ATGATT

Photo of a photo my Grandma Matt took in their yard at Bass Lake,
near to the campground I took those kids around. STICK1 and me near
the end of a 4-week, 4k+ mile ride and a year before this story took place.

I was 19 and knew nothing while living moment-to-moment believing I wouldn’t live past 22. The Viet Nam War may have played a part in that belief even though by then I’d escaped the draft by luck of the lottery. I was coming out of my dark days and trying to figure what the long play of God’s plan was for me since my dream of playing Division II basketball, possibly at Humboldt State, had crumbled like a sand castle built too close to the surf.

I worked weekends during the school year and full-time over the summer as a pier coolie at Paradise Cove to pay for community college plus gas and upkeep on my Honda CB500. I lived in my friend’s family trailer up in the park from the cove and on any given weekend Doug and I would have breakfast at 5:30 a.m. at the Sandcastle Restaurant before working our 10-hour shift on the pier running personal fishing boats up and down the pier, launching them and the fiberglass rentals via the hoist at the end of the pier opposite the Baywatch hut. The uniform of the day was deck shoes, swimsuit, Hawaiian Coconut Tanning Oil, and maybe a tank-top.

The trailer park, pier, and restaurant were run by a guy everyone called The Commodore. I don’t think he owned the place but you wouldn’t have known it by him. Bob ran the bait and rental shop out on the pier and was our boss. Doug, Rob, and I were the three-man team running the hoist and taking care of the outboards and fiberglass boats during weekends. Chuck was the head of maintenance for the whole shebang and was a known alcoholic, a man of dubious mental stability.

Living moment-to-moment left me vulnerable to swings in my temperament and I was far from what I’ve become – patient and even tempered, even if a bit stern and surely.

During a particular day of the summer of ’73 Chuck had come down from his yard up on the bluff to repair a metal railing on the ramp that led to the loading area and launch dock. Lit as he was on this early afternoon, he pulled his arch-welder out. I was tasked to assist him and held the two railing pieces together that need to be welded. I felt a charge run through me when he flipped the power to ‘on’. I let go and looked at the idiot happy he didn’t try to arch the railing. He pulled over a dry (ish) pier plank and told me to stand on it to insulate myself. Flip – buzz – and I let go again. I told him he’d kill somebody and left him to himself. I was not too happy with the man.

That evening after the pier shut down the younger crowd gathered around one of the picnic tables between the restaurant and the set for The Rockford Files. And by younger I mean little teens I needed to be careful around, me being an adult teen. I had my bike with me in the parking lot which was posted not to allow motorcycles (much different than today). It was after hours, okay? Chuck turned up reeling and stinking drunk with a handgun stuck in his waistband. He ordered me out of the lot all belligerent like and posing for the kids. My recollection is that he chest-bumped me while he kept a hand on the butt of his gun. I probably could have taken him down gun and all but some reason prevailed and I left.

I was in a rage when I got on the bike; no gloves, no helmet, no goggles or jacket. I raced up the entrance road to the PCH and headed north leaving reason behind with my friend. By the time I hit Zuma Beach I was zoned. The last I’d looked at the speedo I was near 90 mph. A second or two later my eyelids flipped up to my brows and reason took over again.

Since then and to this day I’ve not ridden without my helmet and gear with the exception of second-gear rides around a campground with a kid on the back wearing my helmet. How close was I to self-fulfilling a prophecy of dying before 22? Close enough.

The point is this, or rather, points are these:

Œ  All The Gear All The Time (ATGATT)

Œ  Check your mood and emotional well-being before turning over the engine

Œ  Know the roads and your capabilities at the start of the ride, don’t learn them during the ride. You will improve and live and live to improve.

Œ  Be vigilant

Ride and ride safe – let’s keep the iron side up, shall we?

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

---------

PS – just now I am recalling a time that puts a lie to the notion that since that day I hadn’t ridden without a helmet with the one exception. It was during my second life as a rider and I had just checked into McGrath State Beach campground with a day pass to visit friends camping there. I road from the kiosk to their camp space with my helmet on the passenger backrest of my Honda VT1100. My friend reminded me that the helmet law applied to state park roads as well.

When I got home that evening I pulled into the garage to park the bike. I didn’t get the kickstand down all the way and it slid under the bike as I leaned it over and the doggone thing threw me into the workbench where I knocked my helmet against the table leg. You don’t even have to be moving to need a helmet while on a bike. At least I don’t. And, I guess, we all need reminders for important things.

Une Sortie, Déjeuner Pour Trois - New Year's Day 2020

Une Sortie, Déjeuner Pour Trois

New Year’s Day 2020

Tradition held on by its finger tips for New Year’s Day in 2019 and a group ride was held with a destination well south of my usual ride and we lunched at the Coyote Bar and Grill in Carlsbad as opposed to Duke’s in Malibu.

Tradition lost out altogether this year and no group ride was planned that I could see and I didn’t do anything much to help with that. It appears I’m more comfortable riding sweep or in the middle of the pack and writing about it. I hadn’t ridden in a while so I planned a solo (une) ride out (sortie) to Duke’s. I geared up for a chilly ride but not so cold that I had to power up my new electric socks. I decided to head up Highway 5 and over Rte. 126 to Fillmore so I could pick up Rte. 23 and ride south to the Pacific Coast Highway.

It was a fine crisp and sunny day for a ride but I was a bit melancholy for my friends and especially Tim who has been off the bike for so long I can’t remember when last we rode together. His body just has not responded as we’d like to the corrective surgeries. His pain is my pain. Tim has been the ride planner I’ve most relied on and I’m the poorer for his absence. My frequent prayers are for him to return to good health.

Once the technical part of the ride started on the 23 my thoughts were consumed with keeping a good tight line through the canyon roads and along the twisties, and there are plenty of both sandwiched around the brief portion where the Highway 101 and the 23 are merged. I had Pandora playing through my headset and there was a lot of good riding tunes from the CCR radio channel. The Pacific Ocean gleamed like a lover’s eye when he spots his inamorata. (as in Tim for Bev, Jed for Sue, Kevin for Jeannie, Aaron for Lupe, Keith for Karen, Shawn for Danielle…) Funny thing about those parenthesized riding couples I know, the gleams are two-way all the way and here’s a little prayer for them and other readers: May God bring you ever closer, may you find new facets to love in each other, and may you have good health and peace.

The morning ride down to Duke’s was wide open with the majority of people on the road being other enthusiasts; bicyclists, walkers, and motorists of all kinds. We shared the lanes nicely, thank you very much. Heading down the PCH and past former haunts (I worked on the Paradise Cove pier for a year and a half) gave me crystal clear views of waves on beaches backed by cliffs. I was restored and refreshed for my new year.

I have to confess that I had been holding on to some hope that I would find a friend at Duke’s, a fellow rider or two that had the same notion as I did though I had some grave reservations about crashing anyone’s party. The parking lot attendant waved me on by and over to the motorcycle parking area where I saw three bikes already leaning into their stands. The first thing I really saw was Walter’s head, Walter being the grumpy old puppet and curmudgeon supreme created by Jeff Dunham. I was so struck by the humor of this sight that I nearly dropped my Cross Country right there. I believe it goes like this - Tim had won Walter in a raffle during a Ride for Guides charity event and gifted him to Jed and I think there were performance tickets involved and now Walter accompanies Jed.

In any case, I struck gold and parked StickII next to Sue’s nearly identical Cross Country. There is a conduciveness to joy with many of the riders I run with and Jed and Sue exemplify that trait. I found them sitting at a table outside by the glass wall overlooking the waves. Jed was sitting with his back to me and it took a few seconds for him to turn around when he saw the look on Sue’s face when she saw me walking toward them.

There is a moment at times like this when someone first sees you that almost defies description, the pure joy on the other's face at seeing you pierces your heart with a very special arrow from Eros. He has special bolts for each; the lover, the family member, and the good friend. All my reservations about crashing a party were melted away and we moved to a table for two with three chairs whereupon another couple moved to Jed and Sue’s table on the water and we then took their seats at a table for four with three chairs. The poor wait staff handled the confusion with good humor and alacrity.

Our lunch was filled with wide-ranging talks about close calls with fires, blessed holidays, trips we’d like to make, friends we want to see more of (couldn’t think of anyone we want to see less of), and how in retirement both Jed and I thought we would ride more and not less. I turned over 50,000 miles on the way up Highway 1 at Trancas Canyon Road. When I got this beauty 10 years ago I thought I’d have had about half again as many miles by now. Ah well.

So my solo New Year’s Day ride turned into Lunch for Three (Déjeuner Pour Trois) and I couldn’t have been more happy with it. Well okay, maybe if two or three or six or ten of you others could have been there then I would have been happier.

The Irish have one of the best blessings ever and this is my 2020 wish for you all:

May the road rise up to meet you.

May the wind be always at your back.

May the sun shine warm upon your face;

the rains fall soft upon your fields

and until we meet again,

may God hold you in the palm of His hand

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

Postscript notes: of my 200 miles, the sweetest were riding sweep behind Jed and Sue up the Pacific Coast Highway…

STICKII turns 50,000 miles

From Highway 23

The law was out too....

Heading south and solo

An Evening With A Dangerous Man

Book, notebook, pen, and keyboard - tools

Wednesday, August 7, 2019 I decided to ride STICKII (my Victory Cross Country motorcycle) over to Vroman’s Book Store and thus, my reasoning for posting this write-up on my motorcycle centric blog. Deal with it. I think Elvis would have said the same while the corner of Joe’s mouth would have twitched.

The occasion was a visit with my favorite author, Robert Crais, as he presented his latest book, A Dangerous Man, a Joe Pike and Elvis Cole story. This one is from Joe’s perspective as the primary character with a captivating heroine. I arrived early though not early enough for a front row seat. This is okay by me because with my height I tend to stay on the aisles and back a few rows so as not to block anyone’s view. I picked up my copy of the book there at Vroman’s and had it ready for Mr. Crais to sign. There are only three authors I would do that for and Sue Grafton passed away late in 2017 so I’m down to two.

I’ll confess that, like most of the folks there and especially those 25 or so who were earlier than me, it is nearly as much about the characters as it is about the writer. As a wannabe author there are many parts of Robert’s writing I try to emulate, if it’s okay to be so familiar with his name. The big bonus for me on this night was hearing him talk about his writing, his process, and how he loves what he does.

Robert led off his talk by relating his previous day where he’d spent eight hours solid doing a raft of satellite radio interviews and having his jug at the ready. No breaks – the interviews fell like well-placed dominoes, something you’d see on a weird science program for kids. It was grueling for him and required self-control at hearing many of the same inane questions all while some of the interviewers made it more about them than the author or the book. It’s one of those things he does for the loves of his life; Joe, Elvis, and their stories. It would be just fine with me if you applaud him right here.

About the time Robert finished up this part of his talk a man’s chair collapsed under him. Genuine concern on Robert’s part for the man’s wellbeing led to a humorous request for the gentleman to join the book tour. It broke the ice and we went on to listen like a bunch of folks hearing to our friend talk about the coolest thing to happen to him in ages.

After reading a couple of sections of the book Robert answered questions from the gathering. Here are a few answers in no particular order: Kim Stanley Robinson is a school mate in the best-of-friends’ category. Robert gets his military information by research. He loves all his books and has no particular favorite. Maggie will be back but sans Joe and Elvis. He does not have a favorite author, reads more non-fiction these days, and reads broadly. And finally, I won’t spoil the next book by revealing a certain character, but he/she will make an appearance. Buy it, read it yourself.

Now, about those readings by the author – though he said acting is too hard when asked why he doesn’t read for his audio books, Robert’s reading is infectious. The love he has for his characters is evident in his reading and it is contagious. I clearly heard his voice in my head as I read the book, especially the two sections he read for us. I had fully intended on completing this post before reading A Dangerous Man but with the disarray that has engulfed my writer’s life I simply could not wait to give it a read. For the first time ever I will reread a book back-to-back. It is that good, that much fun.

Mr. Crais signs his books with a personal note for each person. He thanked me for my kind words which was me thanking him for all the work and all of himself that he puts into his writing. Kindness does not have to be complicated; a simple thank you in my case. Or for Joe Pike in A Dangerous Man, simply being true to himself and getting involved. Pike’s kindness runs simple and deep. “You good?”

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

Postscript notes:

The ‘Shakespeare’ is my ride-name given to me by my rocket scientist (he really is one) friend Tim who set a bar so high I routinely walk right under it. And without much fuss.

“You good?” is a simple and kind inquiry Joe Pike has used in a couple of stories. His use of it to small tot inspired me to use it with my grandkids. It works just fine for us.

I finished my reread and was ready to go for round three but my wife seems to think she should have a chance to read the book first.

Our first encounter at "An Evening with Michael Connelly and Robert Crais" from the Santa Monica Public Library, February 7, 2012

Robert at the 2018 Writer's Digest Novel Writing Conference delivering the keynote address

Laughlin...and Ritely So (2019)

photo courtesy of Little Chapel of The West, see link below

We descended on Molly Brown’s in Victorville from various locations across the Southland and beyond like family-pods of orcas on mostly grey-scale machines accented by a couple of red ones for good measure. We devoured our breakfast in a near frenzy. However, I’m pretty sure no one ate turkey sausage.

We’d ridden through temperatures from the mid-30s to the low-40s and this required hot drinks for the thawing out process as we caught up with each other. Friends we haven’t seen for too long, new friends, and friends we’ve not seen in so long they were like-new. After the preliminaries were over it soon became apparent this weekend was all about two people, Jeannie Fimbres and Kevin Shaw. And ritely so.

Riding sweep into Laughlin

 Talk centered on our Saturday destination ride. Most years, our Saturday excursions are designed to include amazing geography, twisties, and a little in the way of iconic stops like Cool Springs or Oatman. This year our destination was Las Vegas and the wildness of Vegas traffic on the very edge of the Strip. Not exciting in and of itself, but still, we were riding and in good clean formations with a few autos thrown in for good measure. We took over most of the parking lot at the Chapel of the West for Kevin and Jeanie’s wedding where a couple of classic autos joined us. I can’t begin to name names as we nearly packed out the little chapel with 30 or so people.

We toasted, and roasted, the happy couple at every opportunity during our group meals and gatherings in the suite provided this year by Karen and Keith. It was a biker’s love fest and a weekend long celebration with two people who hadn’t particularly been looking for anyone at the time, the time being last year’s Laughlin ride. Things between our friends progressed pretty fast when you consider the distance they live apart, Bakersfield and Monrovia. It was no wonder that Kevin popped the question in another state altogether.

Lunch, dinner, and evening gatherings after the ceremony were opportunities for toasting Mr. and Mrs. Shaw. We made good use of our raised glasses. A pastor I had back in the day loved saying that at a wedding, everybody gets a little more married. I saw couples sitting a little closer, holding hands a little longer, and generally being more attentive of each other. It was a good sign for Kevin and Jeanie, a good way to start out.

Little Church of the West is a wedding machine, to be sure. They did allow Kevin to invite me to do a blessing, an honor I did not, nor still do not, take lightly. I think it went well even though the clock was ticking on me and I had to edit my little prayer. I was blessed in the giving of it. Thanks Kevin and Jeanie.

Bev and Tim stood with the bride and groom while Nicole, daughter of Jeannie, escorted her down the aisle. We all gave Jeannie to be wed to Kevin, much to the chagrin of Nicole. She did well to assert her claim. One amenity they offer is a streaming service of the ceremony and a place to link to and see it all again. It was reported at the start of the ceremony there were 24 people in remote attendance, several of whom we hoped were couple’s kids from far away places. For you convenience, here is the link to the seven-plus minute video:

Kevin and Jeanie's Wedding video

Weather had been a concern throughout the weekend. Aaron and Lupe braved snow, rain, and winds to join us the day of arriving just as we trooped into the chapel. Nearly everyone booked and extra night at the Aquarius to miss the projected winds and rains for Sunday. I was unable to do so with a meeting Sunday night I couldn’t miss and that weighed heavy on my heart. I can be a morose sun of gun under normal circumstances – the added gravity to the upcoming meeting subdued me a bit for the Saturday night festivities. Sorry folks.

I put my kickstand up at 4:43 a.m. Sunday morning to beat the winds and did but ended up in the low-30s for most of the first half of the ride home. I didn’t see 50 degrees until hitting the 57 freeway on the 210. The ride got very interesting in the Cajon pass where it started to rain and the winds gusted up. It was a comical scene when I pulled over in a Cal Trans lot to put on my rain gear. I looked like a dog chasing its tail trying to get my second arm in the sleeve. I skipped the rain pants and let my new chaps do the work and get more broken in. Back on the 15, I headed into wind, rain, and low clouds with a fogged up shield. I had to crack it open just to see and then, only after reaching in and wiping a little strip. It was entertaining and kept me awake for the rest of the ride.

For Kevin and Jeannie, a biker’s poem (feel free to claim it for yourself):

May the roads you travel be trouble free,
clear of pitfalls, obstacles, and debris.
May love fuel your engines, and your tank never run dry,
so remember to show it often; or at least always try.
May kindness and compassion be the lubricant for any friction that comes along,
let forgiveness and understanding help to keep your love strong.
May you hold on tight, as you round each corner, and pave new roads together,
your love will steer you straight and true, through any kind of weather.
May you be mindful of the speed of life and the need for shifting gears,
knowing when to take things slow, as you enjoy the coming years.
For time will take its toll on your soft and youthful skin,
but always remember, beneath that leather, there’s a gentleness within.
May your love endure beyond the setting sun, as your future unfolds ahead,
So say “I Love You” each time you saddle up, and each time you go to bed.

John Meissner

Keep the iron side up my friends.

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

In case you’d like to look at the photos:

 https://photos.littlechurchlv.com/FEBRUARY-2019/Shaw-2919/

New Year’s Day - 2019

It was a dark and chilled morning when I woke up on New Year’s Day, 2019. The muted rumble of Ollie’s breathing and the soft contended respiration of my wife begged me to stay tucked away in bed. It wasn’t until the icy waters of the shower streamed down my back that I allowed my excitement for the day ahead rise to the surface. It was a ride day! I’d be seeing friends, making friends, and rolling over unfamiliar roads. What better way to start a new year?

It was near freezing at my hillside home though there was no rime on the birdbath this year. I quietly geared up in my little office/closet, no mean feat since I was putting on stuff I’ve never ridden in before, namely the chaps I received the day before. A scene ran through my mind. In many stories, movies, and the like, there is a scene where the heroes prepare themselves for conflict and/or adventure. The scene for me was from Cat Ballou where Lee Marvin’s character, Kid Shelleen, is getting ready to face his nemeses, a twin brother. He sobers up, bathes, shaves, and Jackson Two assists him in dressing for the fight. For your viewing pleasure, the scene:

I could have used a Jackson Two to help with those chaps the first time I put them on. While I’ve made lite of the ritual here, make no mistake, it’s a critical part of every ride for each of us. We need to consider the weather and dress right, check out our bike for the ride ahead, and have our route firmly in mind, at least to the point we join up with the day’s leader. Our routine is how we show respect for the ride and those we ride with and it’s a part of our vigilance. It sets our minds properly.

I waddled out to the garage, put my new thermal glove liners on, and backed down the driveway to head out to the first meet point of three. We added Mauricio, a friend of Shawn’s, to the group for the first time. It was less than a mile down the 210 freeway and I knew he was a good fit, like your hands into a favorite set of gloves. The other new-to-me riders would prove the same. It is one of the special things I’ve found in riding with friends who ‘get it’. It’s more about the ride than the bike though the bike can certainly affect the ride. It’s more about the people than posing and there were no posers on this ride. With nineteen riders and nearly a third of them new to me, I scarcely had time to really talk to them all. However, thank you, each of you, for being riders.

There was a bit of strangeness to the day for me and I hope it’s rectified sometime this summer. We pulled into the De Luz School and Ecology Center, our nineteen bikes clogging up the circle driveway. I looked in my mirror and saw a car pulling and thought, ‘how’s this going to work, getting those poor folks through the drive?’ It was Tim in his car with Jeanie and it was strange not seeing him dismount from the Enterprise. We spent a little time looking at the 1927 one room schoolhouse and Tim got out his newest passion and took a couple of drone shots of the group.

Photo courtesy of Tim Robertson and his drone at De Luz School

The ride through De Luz Canyon (and maybe Rice Canyon?) was special. We wended our way through twisties to our hearts delight, rounding corners to breathtaking vistas, and down steep grades into vales of Black-oak shrouded canopies. I could ride it again and just thinking about it as I write puts a smile on my face.

Brief helmet cam video of De Luz Canyon:  

From the canyon we worked our way through Fallbrook down to the coast and our destination at the Coyote Bar and Grill in Carlsbad. Our thought was to ride along the strip by the beach and stop for a group photo, but it being a gorgeous day and Carlsbad doesn’t take reservations for such things, we got separated into several groups. It’s no easy task keeping twenty vehicles in caravan. The great thing is we all ended up at the eatery for good food and drink (Doctor Pepper for me, thank you Brad) and an excellent time of rider’s fellowship.

At the end of these rides a sense of melancholy sets in as riders bid friends goodbye and safe travels, to head off in different direction. It was no different New Year’s Day 2019.

My 2019 wish for my friends here is that we all find twisties that challenge us and we rise to the challenge. That you all find yourself in places that warm your hearts and light your fires. Here’s to a prosperous and healthy 2019.

 Y’all keep the iron side up and ride baby ride.

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

Ride Roster, mostly in order of appearance:

Mauricio Ahued

Todd

Shawn Frausto

Jed and Sue

Jerry

Aaron Falls and Lupe Delgado Falls

Steve Mclean

Keith and Karen – ride hosts

Jess

Steve Thrasher

Kevin and Jeanie

Tim and Bev

And others to be named soon: 

Dear Holly - RTTF Honoree

Photo courtesy of Carrington House, a charitable foundation

On Saturday September 8, 2018 I will take a ride with around 500 friends. We’ll be on every kind of bike imaginable and we will have ideals from all over the spectrum. On Saturday we will ride with one purpose – to honor and support US Navy Chief Petty Officer Holly Katke, HMC. We will ride for two heroes, Holly and her daughter Leia

We’ll gather at the Naval Base/Ventura County, register and have a little breakfast while we await a stirring 9/11 Commemoration Ceremony. We will meet our hero and a few White Heart Foundation alumni and dignitaries before we mount up and Ride to the Flags (RTTF) at Pepperdine University where there will be one 3’X5’ flag for each casualty of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, 2,977 flags in total. We’ll see flags from a variety of nations sprinkled in among our American flags, a flag for each person’s nationality - 90 International flags. I won’t be able to say much as I walk from one end of the display to the other, I’ll only be able to offer a quiet prayer for the people and their families, for the casualties of war, for those still in harm’s way, and for the wounded like Holly and their support groups like Leia.

Then we will listen to music, visit sponsors of the event, knock back a few beverages, and plunk down some cash on raffle items we may or may not be able to strap to our bikes for the trip home.

Holly’s story:

Chief Petty Officer Holly Katke was an Independent Duty Hospital Corpsman and earned the title of the highest enlisted medical care provider in the Navy. She is also fluent in Arabic and as a female was frequently the only person local women would talk to in Iraq. Holly was serving with a Navy Seal team when the outfit came under fire. They were at fleet station when she took a sniper round to the head, one eighth of an inch from being killed in action.

The bullet stayed lodged in Holly’s brain for three months causing multiple strokes resulting in the loss of the use of her right arm, half of her vision, and much of the functionality of her right leg. Her memory is sketchy – she describes it as like ‘fifty first dates’. Holly has continued her education and achieved her Bachelorette degree and works to study environmental issues.

Through all of this, Holly is a single parent to Leia, her highest priority and Holly’s primary helper.

The funds raised by our ride will provide Holly with specialized rehab equipment and help with transportation for her and her daughter.

Five minute video on Holly: https://youtu.be/myyopWnRbXE?t=353

If you feel inclined to donate you can do so through the links below, my fundraising page or to White Heart directly. If you don’t feel so inclined, stop for a moment and pray for Holly, her daughter, and all of our wounded veterans. Thank you.

My fundraising page: https://donate.whiteheart.org/event/ride-to-the-flags-xi/e191755

Or White Heart Foundation at: http://www.whiteheart.org/

Dear Holly,

Thank you for your service and the sacrifice you’ve made for us as a country, for your fellow Seals and Sailors, and for freedom. I appreciate how you’ve battle back and continued to fight through your injuries in order to be there for your daughter and to be there for our world as a researcher.

I am honored to ride for you and make a bit of a difference to you as you live and love. I am humbled that I’ll ride with hundreds of others who feel the same way for you and other wounded veterans.

I appreciate the sacrifices that your daughter has made and continues to make for you and I love how she loves you. And if I may be so bold, I love how she taps out the beat.

And, I pray for continued healing and miracles for you and through you. I pray for your daughter so that she’ll have endurance, focus, and be a source of pride and fulfillment to you. In my heart, I know your daughter is a great source of strength to you, I pray she finds her way and achieves her dreams.

Keep the iron side up,

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

Shakespeare on Maui

Lahaina Art - if I could have rented it I would have ridden it

It was ten days ago from this writing (June 29, 2018) that I took a ride that I had every intention of reporting on within days of its completion. I’m still working on the rationale behind the delay as I usually post my write up within a couple of days of the ride, sometimes even the day of. I was on Maui, why rationalize a delay? Why delay reporting or bragging about a ride in such a cool place?

I think one factor is that it was a solo ride that I took while on a family vacation with my wife and my daughter’s family, none of whom ride. My wife was content to spend her birthday reading and crocheting while lounging on a beach overlooking the Pacific with a legion of blue tones woven into a tapestry that makes our hearts ache. The kids took the road to Hana and I grabbed the opportunity to ride. Still it was a guilt-edged ride and I didn’t feel like taking time out from the flow of the rest of our vacation to write it up.

Another factor is that it was a lot of work to ride and difficult to separate the ride from the toil of it. Truth be told, I was just too busy enjoying sunsets and shave ice.

The night before the ride I went online and reserved a Victory Vision at the Kihei EagleRider, aka Aloha Motorsports. I saw in the small print that the bike might not be there and it wasn’t. Had I made my reservation the week before when I was seriously contemplating the ride, or even 24 hours before, they would have moved the Vision from the main store in ‘Lahaina’.

Keoki, aka Ke, was the man in charge of the Kihei location and he was busy checking in returns when I arrived a few minutes before opening time, three Harleys and a street bike from one group, and two Slingshots from other motorsport adventurers. They have a range of vehicles from scooters to sport bikes, Harleys, and the apex of the bunch, the Victory Vision I had reserved. For the folks without motorcycle licenses they have the Slingshots, a wild looking street-legal dune buggy, and a Cobra. While waiting my turn I imagined doing a spin in or on several of the different rides.

Harley Electra Glide - ridden enough to be happy with my
personal choice

Keoki found the Vision at their Lahaina location and made arrangements for me to ride a blue Harley Street Glide up and swap it for the Vision to finish up my ride. I had a route in mind to go around the west node of the island with a side trip up to I’ao State Park. The swap would only add another 25 miles or so. Or so I thought. I was given the key and instructions on the Street Glide and took off having put my long-sleeved shirt in the saddlebag. I went on up to Lahaina. Only problem was, EagleRider is not in Lahaina proper as I had thought, only a Harley dealer on Front Street which I had just cruised. Aloha MotorSports is further up island in Kaanapli but with a Lahaina. Note to self and anyone else who wants to listen – have the route and destination firmly in mind unless the purpose of the ride is to wander around a strange place without a destination in mind or required.

They took care of me at the store; a key swap and go was all I needed. Except that I’d lost the key and faced a $250 charge to change out the lockset on the Harley. Thankfully Keoki had already saved the day when he found the key in the lot where I’d dropped it while getting on the strange bike.

Let me digress for just a moment before taking off on the Vision for my quest for a tropic ride. This is the first time since getting back into riding ten years ago that I wasn’t wearing riding boots and jacket. It was an odd feeling and a little uneasy at times.

The Vision is a full-dress touring bike and outweighs my Cross Country by about 90lbs, dry. Not much difference really and hardly anything at all once the bike was moving and I got used to the configuration. The issue for me was that the kickstand was set up too widely splayed and the bike leaned past the ideal standing angle making it a bit of a stretch to get her standing up. On one photo-op stop I made the mistake of parking with the kickstand downslope and had to get off the bike and push it up to balance it while I swung my leg over. It was dicey and I’d wished I had packed my riding boots after all.

 

Beautiful overlook, bad parking decision

There are several differences between the Electra Glide and the Vision. Riding from Kihei through Lahaina to Kaanapali on the Harley I got the standard biker’s salute/greeting from other riders and glances from drivers and pedestrians alike. When I pulled into the lot at the second store scooter renters glanced over their shoulders to see me as I parked it. When I threw my leg over the Vision and started it up they all turned and watched as I eased out of the lot. I still got the rider’s salutes but the driver/riders in cages gave long looks as we passed each other. When I pulled into a store parking lot in Napili to get water I had two conversations about the bike and its looks and performance, both of which are superior. Nice bike!

I decided to continue on my clockwise direction which put the ocean to my left and over the oncoming lane, not my ideal choice but time was a concern by the time I’d found the store for the swap. Once you get beyond Honokowai the road narrows and gets more twisty and even more so along the way until it gets to be less than two lanes and truly twisty, ‘da bess’ for a rider. But it was work and required vigilance to the road and oncoming traffic which was thankfully pretty light on the 19^th.

The road was like a tropic version of Ireland country lanes with its rock walls right up to the tarmac. At times the tall grasses on Maui grow taller than I stand and lean over the roadway on one side with overhanging volcanic rock on the other. It was awesome and I wish I had a helmet cam video of the whole ride. The vistas as I came around corners to overlook the channel between Maui and Molokai are inspiring. Turquoise waters over white sands and coral beds blend into waters the color of denim with whitecaps whipped up by the trade winds that look like diamonds sparkling off to the distance. Nani (beautiful).

I road through little hamlets that don’t appear on the map and haven’t bothered to stake a town name to the roadside; it’s island living and where you are is where you are. I passed over one-lane bridges with streams running down from the mountainsides carving out channels in the lava. Locals gathered at the bridges and scrambled down for freshwater swimming. The vast Pacific stretched off to the Northeast as Molokai faded off behind me while the rainforest ran up the mountainside.

The more I write this the more I want to write the ride but it has to end just as did the ride, back at Kihei where I found Keoki mapping out a ride that makes me want to turn around and do it again. He has a route that gives you three distinct vistas of the island in a day and puts you in a place for lunch the locals all seek out. Next time Ki’oki…

Aloha Motorsports is ka ‘oi (the best)

Malu ko’u na ho’alohaloha (peace my friend)

Y’all keep the iron side up and ride baby ride.

Jerry ‘Shakespeare’ White

It's impossible to find a vista with a bad overlook...

Sad Postscript Note: Last night I learned that my Ride Brother Kekai was found dead in the mountains of his beloved Maui after going missing on May, 20. When I saw the CNN report I was struck in the heart. My prayers go out to Kekai's family and the Maui community for peace. Maha maika'i kakua'ana, malu.