Fishing and Karma

7-July-2016

 Hot and muggy here today. I was kind of bored with laying around Fort Awesome so I decided to ride out for breakfast. My plan was to have breakfast and visit with some of the locals. something that I hadn't done in a long while.
 After breakfast and the locals thinned out I decided to run down to the twin bridges and get a few shots of the river.

The bridges over two rivers are about three hundred yards apart, hence the name.  One of the bridges has a parking area and boat launch under it and is kind of a neat place to take a few pictures and do some bank fishing.
 As I pulled in I noticed that there were three other vehicles there but no one around. I rolled down to the water side of the lot and a small dog appeared barking and growling. He appeared to be very serious about not liking me in any way. I hollered at him and he took off into the brush. Odd, but I've seen worse out of animals in this area. Figuring he belonged to one of the houses in the area I didn't give it too much thought.

 I snapped a couple of pictures of the still slow moving water and was about to head out to get my fishing rig when another vehicle pulled in. Again the pup showed up making all kinds of racket. And. Again he ran off into the brush. Something about this time though seemed a little odd. I couldn't put my finger on it but it was odd.
I gathered up my rod and reel and headed back down to wreak havoc on the perch. On the way I thought about the pup again. There was something just not right about him. Little guy. A Chihuahua, that looked like he had been well taken care of.  
 When I pulled in to the lot here he came again. This time it connected. He was scared. Bad scared. He was looking for someone in each vehicle that pulled in. It was very apparent. Someone had dumped this little guy.  Once this hit me I started talking to him and trying to get close enough to see if he might have a collar. He was so nervous that it took a while and all of my lunch to get him in close. Finally he let me pet him and I managed to pick him up and we made friends, sort of. I sat him down as he was a lot calmer and went to pester the perch.  Every step I made the pup made. I was sort of comical. Earlier he was going to tear me up. Now he was acting as my personal guide.
 I finally got enough muggy heat to do me for the day and headed back to the bike. There were a couple of people there loading kayaks and they told me he had been there for several days. This convinced me that my earlier thoughts had been correct. Some low life had dumped him. One of the kayakers said he'd love to have him but his apartment complex didn't allow pets. This kind of made up my mind for me. One problem, he wouldn't come near the bike. After a few minutes it came to me and I called my "cosmic" advisor, Beverly, to assist me.
 Beverly arrived in her Mustang and I handed him to her and told her to take him to my house.
 On the way we stopped at the local stores and put out the word that if anyone had actually lost this guy to see me.
 Now I have a new commander here at the fort. Lt. Col. Gasphard.  He's so far the best little pup anyone could ask for.

He's not much on the actual labor end of things but he makes a great "straw boss. He's even ridden with me and seems to like it.
 Now I can tell people that I went fishing and all I caught was a "Gasphard."

"always see the adventure"

always seek the adventure.....

Make no mistake, even with one foot on a "nanner" peel and one foot in the graveyard, old guys still have all the fun the law allows in situations like this.

simply getting "up there" in "experience and dashing good looks" is not a reason for counting them out.

you never know when one of these "old guys" will turn in their motorcycle for a wheel chair and run over you with it.

catch ya on the road

2016 Polar Bear ride.

 This years Polar Bear ride wasn't to bad. Aside from not being with my riding crew it was down right good.

  Once I managed to get past all the obstacles the ladies of the house put in front of me it was smooth riding so to speak. I made a lazy loop of about 17 miles around the area and called it good. 

45 degrees was not too bad and definitely a lot better than some weather I've been caught in in past years. Having relocated to central Texas for the winter I find that the riding seems to be pretty good
 almost all the time

.
  So this year was off to a good start.

(one should always seek the adventure.)

catch ya on the road

One of those non riding tales.

Through out my life I have been involved with family and friends that were ill in one fashion or another. You love them and so you try to make their illness or recovery as easy an experience as possible.

Some are resigned to the fact that they are sick and kind of roll with the flow. Others however refuse to give in and fight things at every turn.

Then you have my gorgeous redheaded daughter who is a combination of both with other things thrown in for good measure. Yeahhhhhh baby!!

Imagine if you will, being in your early twenties, the obvious life of the party and being told that “those tonsils have to come out.” Facing a two week period of “confinement” is a hard thing to visualize for someone that is constantly on the go.

Tuesday, Dec. 15, 2015 was the date of the surgery and all went well from all the reports I got.

She arrived at the Maximum Confinement Center that afternoon all spacey and and painfully sick from everything. The first step was getting her meds all lined out so that they would work “hand in glove” with the tested and time honored traditional folk remedies we had lined up to speed her recovery. First there was the pain medicine. (Turned out to be non effective on this poor child. Just didn't work.) Next was a way to get it down as swallowing was almost a luxury. Same with the antibiotics and anything else that she needed to get into her system. Food became all liquid. Liquid mashed potatoes was an instant hit with both patient and cook. Once all the little details for the prescribed medicines and foods were worked out we began the complex regiment of feet tickling and belly poking and general all around pestering, aimed at improving ones overall disposition. These "home" remedies began almost immediately to have the desired effect in the producing of
great smiles and wonderful giggles. You know it's powerful treatment for any condition because Readers Digest always stated "laughter's the best medicine." 

By Dec. 22, my wee child had recovered enough to go over the wall and attend the showing of the latest Star Wars movie. From this point on everything improved on a daily basis. So much in fact a Guard dog had to be employed to ensure that no unnecessary tom foolery occurred. 

 

As you will notice the guard dog strategically place to prevent any further shenanigans such as the going over the wall incident.

Overall the daughter fared and recovered remarkably well and rather quickly. The ten to twelve days of forced confinement seemed to me to have flown by. Before long my wee child was eating regular food again and the time had come for her to get back into the rat race. 

I hated that she was sick and all, but I wouldn't have traded this time with her for all the green in

Ireland.

 

The wee child leaving the Maximum Confinement Center much improved and no doubt joyously happy that shes doing it under her own steam.

always seek the adventure....................

 

12-14-2015

I always end my stories of Motorcycle 'derring do' with the phrase “always seek the adventure.” Maybe this will help some folks to understand better the wildly exciting and event filled motorcycle lifestyle.

Today I was tinkering with a small project or two and realized that I needed a couple of things from the store. As none of it was all that pressing I put everything on hold and jumped on the bike for the short ride to town. Normally this is a quick ride, only seven miles, and I'm usually there way before I want to be. Today would be an exception as an unruly herd goats had other plans. I don't have goats. Haven't owned any since I was a teenager and then my dad actually owned them. I was just lucky enough to get to (try) keep up with them. So I have a certain understanding of what happened today. Goats are just prone to “go.” Destination is not a part of thing for a goat. Going is.

At about the halfway point in my ride I saw a small group of deer in the road ahead of me. Deer are everywhere down here so it wasn't anything to get all worked up over, I could see them. They just looked like they were trying to cross the road, not ambush a lowly biker. Rolling up on them I saw it was actually goats. A lot of goats! From the distance there didn't look like that many. Someones herd was lose.

The problem with goats is the way they see things. “Their in charge.” Coming to a stop the whole herd just massed up in the middle of the road and stood still. Drivers behind them finally started honking and flashing their head lights to try and get them to move. I honked my weak bike horn as well, no luck. These critters were staying put. After about five minutes I began to see this whole thing as funny, The other drivers, not so much.

After about 10 minutes of this little stand off one of the car drivers got out and tried to run em off the road. All he succeeded in doing was milling them around a bit. For whatever reason this bunch of unreconstructed goats were happy in the middle of the road. Now I know having grown up with all kinds of livestock that any of us could have just inched along and they would have moved. The car drivers evidently didn't know this and I thought the whole thing so funny I just wouldn't have missed it for anything.

Finally, one of the car drivers came running up to the others and they all listen to what he had to say as if it was a matter life and death. After they spoke one of them holler at me and said “ just sit tight, everything would be all over in a few minutes, we've called Animal Control.” I almost cracked up in his face when he told me this. Sure enough in a few minutes, with red and blue lights flashing, Animal Control arrived on the scene.

The Officer got out of his truck, checked his gig line, and proceeded over with a very pronounced manly swagger to deal with the problem. After a good five minutes of getting the herd to mill around again I could see in the Officers, a very young looking fellow, face he was lost. It finally got the better of me and I motioned the Cop over and explained that if he'd take his truck and slowly drive through the herd they would break up and it would all be over. He though about it for a second then got in his truck and pulled out. Little by little it pushed them off the road and they decided to go some place else. Goats are like that. They can tell when they aren't wanted.

After the crisis was dealt with the cop ask me how come I didn't drive into the herd and break things up? I couldn't resist and said “and miss the show these “adults” put on, up to and including calling you.” “Besides, I'm on a motorcycle.” After a couple seconds he laughed in spite of himself. My short trip to town had about an hour added to it. Got witness first hand how some folks in the city operate and I got to meet the local Constable. Not bad at all.

"always seek the adventure”

12-10-2015

Sometime back the annual Bikes, Blues and BBQ rally was held in my back yard. Since it's there and I don't have to ride halfway across the country, I usually attend and take pictures.

One of the things I look for and forward to is seeing the different styles of bikes. Old, new, crazy, ...etc. I like to find styles that I could see myself on. This year I found one such machine. If it were possible at this time I'd be on a machine such as this.

“always seek the adventure”

catch ya on the road

12-9-2015

Today was a good day for a ride, so I did.

I have been under the weather with the flu for the last couple of weeks and with the cooler temps and big case of lazy, I haven't been out. This wasn't so bad. The gummed up carburetors on my bike is another story.

Seems that sitting for a few days the “gas a nol” seems to have jellied and I couldn't get more than an idle out of the carburetor. I put fresh gas in and a heavy dose of Sea foam and began the long process of letting it eat through the gummed up jets. After an hour or so of starting and letting it idle while off and on trying to rev the engine I finally had some success. Enough that I could get it to pull itself. Cursing modern day technological advances I took off for a short ride. After three or four miles it seemed to have cleared out to the point I felt I could put on a few miles without worrying about it conking out on me. I made a short lazy loop of about twenty five miles on back roads and by the time I got back to the house it was running like it should.

I had had this problem often in Arkansas. Everyone agreed that it was due to the newer gas and where I was located. (northern Arkansas) It was widely rumored that we were getting a cull grade of gas because we were so far off the beaten path. Here in Texas where they are known for growing gas behind every bush I didn't expect this to happen, at least so quickly.

So, now it looks like I'll have to make more of an effort to buy sea foam and ride each day to keep everything moving smoothly. That itself is not a bad thing :-)

Days like today make me long for the 70's... I rode all over the seventies and don't once remember having gas issues, other that being critically low all the time, like this. 

always seek the adventure

catch ya on the road