My Holiday Message

The following passage just spontaneously wrote itself when I was writing about something else. I thought it was a good message for the holiday season so I'm re-posting it here:

I'm a WASP-born agnostic with zen leanings. I might be an honorary Catholic because my wife's family and so many of my friends have been Catholic. By that reasoning I might be an honorary Jew as well. And maybe an honorary black man. And I'm on my way to becoming an honorary east Indian and Mexican. If you hate me on sight for not being just like you, then stay the hell away from me. But I'll have a beer (or coffee) with anyone and everyone else. Most people are just people. Ignore the divisive media. United we stand.

I love motorcycling!

Today I took what will very likely be my last motorcycle ride for the year. It was also, possibly, the last ride of my life. (That last statement is truer for a leukemia patient like me than for the average rider. I'm doing well on that count but it's always touch and go.)

The day couldn't have been nicer. It was around 50 F and damp. In my cold weather gear I was snug and comfy and the big British twin LOVES damp cool weather. On days like this the Chrome Nun doesn't like to end the ride and neither do I. On my way home I kept turning down side roads and taking a longer and longer way home.

The Chrome Nun is a 2008 Triumph Bonneville T100, arguably the last truly great retro motorcycle. It's the last model year with real carbs. It also sports old-fashioned incandescent lights and mechanical gauges. It even has tall spoked wheels that require inner tubes. The only brake control and traction control are provided by the rider. The T100 version of the new Bonneville line is a 60s style motorcycle with 21st. century engineering and quality.

The Nun got her name because she's black and white and chrome all over and because in the hot months I take lots of early rides on Sundays which I refer to as "going to church." "The Chrome Nun" was a nickname that David Crosby gave to Grace Slick. Like her namesake, my motorcycle looks like a lady but is lots more fun than a lady.

Around Saint Louis, once the temps dropped below 60 F all the hogs disappeared. Below 50 F the sport bikes all disappeared. Then it was only me and a few BMW riders out risking ice patches. The BMWs were always newer models, probably equipped with heated handgrips. That means I won the prize for craziest winter rider. (The prize is really cold stiff hands.)

But in Northwest Indiana, I see very few BMWs. Instead, I'm joined on the road on cool days by hogriders. Any rider who can't wait for warm weather is a bro of mine. You'll hear me criticize hog-poseurs, fair weather riders who only ride to the bar to be seen with their fellow boys. But you'll never hear me criticize a true rider, no matter what he rides. Besides, some hogs are really @#$% cool!

On one of my last rides I went down to Cedar lake and rode all around the area. I saw a few real hogriders and a bar full of poseurs. Also, when I pulled over to check my phone for messages, I was passed by about a dozen youngsters on sport bikes. They were respectful and safe and several of them waved. They weren't in town on busy streets showing off like assholes, they were enjoying a ride in the country. That makes me feel good. 

It's noteworthy that my Bonneville gets respect from hogriders and sport bike riders alike. The two groups don't always extend the same courtesy to each other. I expect all real riders do. To me a real rider is someone who simply loves riding motorcycles, like I do. You don't have to be the fastest, loudest or most reckless in order to enjoy riding. Just seeing a nice motorcycle makes you feel good, and riding one makes you smile inside and out.

The Chrome Nun

click to enlarge