I am writing this article at the end of February, before our meeting because Jerry is going on Holiday again, some place warm and snow-free!  I say we get him when he comes back! Wait, I just remembered, he does the news letter, a job none of us wants to do! Curses, foiled again by Jerry!

So Jerry said write about any thing that comes to mind, all I can think about is how much I hate snow!   So I researched snow, I found out why it is snowing in the south so much, Antarctica, yes, seems it is Summer down there and they are having the hottest Summer in recorded history! Now 37 Degrees Fahrenheit doesn't sound warm to us, but down there it’s hot enough that some of the winter hardened scientists are stripping down to tee shirts.  So then why is it cold up here?  Well as you know from Newton, the guy with all those annoying little physics laws that get in our way of having fun, like gravity, for every action there is an equal but opposite reaction.  So if its hot south of the equator, the cold has to go some where, so why not Texas, where I wish it would all go and leave us alone!  Though it is amusing watching southerners slide around in their cars, after telling us we should move down there for the warm weather.  Now you have high humidity and snow, how do you like them apples!  I do like southerners by the way.

It might be because I never bothered to learn how to ski.  Just couldn't get into it.  Snow, cold, ice, standing on waxed boards while sliding out of control down a steep mountain, then there are the trees, cliffs, avalanches, frost bite, snow boarders, broken limbs, ski jumps, and of course, the ever present danger of being kidnapped by a Yeti! Hey, it happens, I read about it every winter while standing in line at the super market check out line!  By the way, Michael Jackson is still alive, he lives in Los Vegas and does five shows a week with Elvis!   I tried snowmobiles, even worse, all of the above plus mud and getting stuck a hundred miles from civilization, no thanks.  I probably should try ice racing, at least I would be on a motorcycle when I broke my neck.

What I really need is a heated garage and more motorcycles.  Like I always say, you can never have too many bikes!  When I was young I did rebuild a few bikes in the basement and living room, most women don't like that for some reason.  Isn't the kitchen sink put in just to wash parts?  I did find out that contrary to popular folk lore, Eskimos do not have 400 words for snow.  “Inuit”, the proper term for indigenous people of the north, have a similar number of words for snow as we do, for instance, drifting snow, large wet flakes, icy snow and so on.  Although this winter I may have at least a hundred new words for snow, but I am reminded by Jerry this is a family news letter, so you will have to guess what they are!  I am just thankful that we have not had the 7 foot drifts and 50 bellow zero wind chills, (I didn't say that, we are jinxed for sure now).  Which by the way, Jerry's wind chill chart last month was entertaining; it only went up to 65mph and down to 30 degrees. I go faster then that and in colder weather, your right Jerry, I probably don't want to know the wind chill at 80mph and minus 10 degrees!

Well that’s enough rambling for this month. I am sure we will have a great March meeting.  Looking into my crystal ball  all of you will ride your bikes to the meeting, John will tell us we have over 1 million dollars in our club treasury, you will all have lots of great comments, we will have Steve McQueen as our guest speaker, and he will bring his entire Triumph collection for show-and-tell, and I hope you wont miss it, the 50/50 which will be the largest pot in our club history,  and I understand that  Fred has planned an after meeting ride to the Ace Cafe in London, so this will just plain be our best meeting ever!  Well maybe it won’t be that good, but since it hasn't happened, as I write this, who knows maybe it will be! Hey, maybe I'm Psychic, (perhaps psycho – your editor) we will see at the March meeting, I can't be that much worse than “The Psychic Hot line”.   Of course, when you read this, the meeting will have happened, so you will know how it turned out, was I right?  Well, Jerry said to write free form, and I really think I carried out his orders to the fullest, I think I deserve a hardy “Well Done”!

Wrench, Ride Repeat!

El Loco Diablo

So what were you doing on January 18^th?  If you live in Colorado I don’t suspect you were out on your motorcycle (or at least not for very long). 

Well, I was out that day celebrating my birthday on a Harley Davidson Road King but instead of dodging ice patches and feeling my fingers go waxy and numb from the cold, I was cruising under palm trees, past white sand beaches inhabited by hot looking women wearing tiny bikini’s, and all the while being cooled by ocean breezes that make riding on an 85 degree day a real pleasure.  Are you feeling jealous yet – just wait, there is more.

Ok, so where did I find these perfect conditions in the middle of January?  Florida, Texas?  No, think further south past Mexico and beyond Central America on a small (19.6 x 6 miles in size - 70 square mile)  Dutch Island off the coast of Venezuela in the Netherlands Antilles.  I was in Oranjestad, Aruba at Big Twin Harley Davidson for a tour of the Island by motorcycle.  Check their website at www.harleydavidson-aruba.com for all the details and to make reservations. 

We met up at the shop at 9 am with the other riders – Vinny Turilli and Sue Adler from New York; Rodrigo and Roberta Dornelas from Sao Paulo, Brazil; and our motorcycle mounted local tour guide from Big Twin - Rene Zaandam.  Fortunately, all our riders were competent and experienced so we did the paperwork and then wheeled out onto the road to see the sights. 

Traffic there is not crazy like some places in the world (a little crowded until we got outside Oranjestad which only took a couple minutes) but the good news is they drive on “the right side of the road” (unlike some of the other Caribbean islands suffering from British heritage and driving on the left) so other than playing the usual game of Russian Roulette at the traffic circles, it was a no-brainer for mixing it up with the locals.  What was kind of fun was that our bikes must have had the exhaust systems tuned to the perfect frequency and decibel level to trip car alarms and we managed to set off at least a dozen while cruising past parking lots downtown.

Now the cool thing about this tour is that you get to ride from point-to-point between historic and scenic stops and in the process get to see most of the island. Rene our guide had it worked out perfectly so that we had just enough time to take in a little history and shoot a few photos at each stop and then we were back on the bikes to cruise some more.  And, if you are riding with your spouse or significant other, they will appreciate that there are places on the route to do some quick shopping and more than adequate and clean “pit stops” for those ever present “Bio-breaks” we all need.  And as all men know, “If momma ain’t happy – nobody happy”.

We cruised past a lot of first-class beachside resorts out to the California Lighthouse on the West end of the island and then on to the historic Alto Vista Chapel by the sea.  Since Aruba is essentially a pretty barren place (kind of reminded me of the desert in Arizona with all its huge cactus - up to 18 feet high - growing everywhere) you still have the blue Caribbean Sea all around so it’s a beautiful contrast of environments, so do bring a lot of memory for your digital camera. 

Next stop was Casibari Rock that you can climb if you are so moved but being jaded by living in the Rocky Mountains and having the Garden of the Gods in my own back yard, I was under-whelmed by this landmark.  Still, it was a good place for people watching (everybody wanted to take photos of us and our motorcycles so I felt like a rock star) and a clean pit stop, shopping, and a cold drink.  It also allowed time to contemplate that the highest elevation on Aruba is Mt. Jamanota at 617 feet above sea level with most of the island (and its system of roads) at less than 50 feet above.  Now it’s been a very long time since I have had a motorcycle at anything near sea level and let me tell you that if you are a high altitude Colorado rider you are going to be amazed at the power you have on those bikes when there is actually “some air in the air”!  Talk about throttle response!

After our rest stop we got to take a nice fast run (fast is a relative term - we were running about 45 mph most the time in neighborhoods where the locals lived) out to the extreme East End of the island for some more super photo-ops.  This took us close to the Aruba International Raceway Park where you can watch night motorcycle drag racing in a quite adequate stadium – there must be a lot of “motor-heads” there to support that kind of enterprise.

One odd thing I noticed is that although there are a lot of stray dogs on the island, they show absolutely no interest in chasing the motorcycles – is it too hot to get out of the shade or what?  I don’t know but the only animal hazard we did encounter was a large herd of goats milling around on the road in a rural area, so we just slowed down and worked our way around them. 

Leaving the East End, we checked out the babes at “Baby Beach” and then headed off to the town of San Nicolas for a drink at the famous (in Aruba anyway) Charlie’s Bar.  Now if you cruise to the Piper bar in Denver any Sunday afternoon in the summer you know what the parking lot looks like with all the bikes stacked up outside.  Well, our four Harley’s might have looked a bit pale in comparison outside Charlie’s Bar but pulling up on the sidewalk out front caused quite a stir for the tourists (more photos of us taken again – my 15 minutes of fame) so it was still a thrill. 

The bar is way cool and has more weird stuff hanging from the ceiling than I have ever seen anywhere in my life.  It looks like somebody tossed a bomb into a junk yard and then took a freeze frame photo of the debris flying through the air (just to provide you with a more graphic frame of reference). 

Anyway, it was cool inside and the local Balashi beer was icy cold so it made a great place to sit and chat with the folks we had been riding with all day.  All of our riders and guide had spent time living in the USA so language was no barrier and we all had a common perspective on the difference in having a bike on something as vast as the North American continent and little Aruba.  Our conclusion was “where ever you go, there you are” so you might as well have a motorcycle and ride no matter what!  Aruba may not be a “motorcycle destination” but certainly has everything you would want in a warm weather getaway from the states and the fact that there is some decent riding available makes it an added bonus when doing your vacation planning.

Whiskyman

"Flat Out is a fascinating read to anybody interested in what goes on behind the scenes at Bonneville Speed Week and the quest to set a land speed record on the great salt sea there.  You don’t have to be a racer to appreciate the accomplishments of these daredevils but if you are a speed freak then you will take pleasure in this true story.

This is a "can't put it down" exciting account of a battle for the ultimate land speed record on 2-wheels, written in a down to earth style to which the reader can relate!"  A center section of photos adds to the value of the book and aids the reader in understanding what an awesome accomplishment it is to go over 350 mph on two wheels.

THE VINCENT IN THE BARN: GREAT STORIES OF MOTORCYCLE ARCHAEOLOGY by Tom Cotter, Forward by David Edwards

(ISBN 978-0-7603-3535-2)

It’s every motorcyclist’s dream.  A friend or acquaintance says, “You know, there’s an old bike that’s been sitting in the garage for years”.  The hunt is on.  And rather than the usual worthless Hondazukimaha pile of hopeless oxidation, at the back of that barn you find a genuine classic, the motorcycle collectors dream. 

The Vincent  in the Barn tells forty such stories – tales of motorcycle hunting dreams come true.  From Ducati’s in basements to Vincent’s abandoned in sheds, Harleys in barns to Brit Bikes moldering behind urban garages, these are the stories that fuel every motorcyclist’s fantasies.  The only difference?  They are true!

If you have every heard about a “Barn Fresh find” or had the good fortune of the actual experience of rescuing a classic bike from some dark dingy storage space after years of collecting dust and debris, you are going to love this book.  With stories illustrated with photos from known collectors such as Jay Leno, to the legends of the motorcycle world such as the Brough Superior that belonged to T.E. Lawrence (The Lawrence of Arabia Bike), to eccentric collectors like desert rat Ron Adler who has reportedly over 10,000 motorcycles stored on his property in Rye Arizona,  it’s a fascinating read!