Motorcycle Show

Current mood: other

Saturday was the International Motorcycle Show in San Mateo.
Impressions:
I sat on one of the Husquvarna’s and my feet were dangling about 1 foot from the ground. Now, I’m average height for a woman, and a bit short for a guy. But I’m not 1 foot short in the inseam! Who are these bikes designed for exactly? I saw about four people over the course of the day who might have been able to ride that bike. As Paul pointed out. “Husky has gone out of business twice during the time that we’ve been standing here climbing on their bikes.”

Cage of Death: SO COOL! What fun! I’m glad other people risk serious injury for my amusement.

Overheard at one of these crappy “American Iron” accessory shops, full of chrome, flaming do-rags, and halter tops, from an 11ish year old boy: “This belt that I saw at Hot Topic for $30 is only $19 here!” I hope all the patrons of that booth were duly embarrassed.

The Mille gets uglier every year: the tail now looks like a trivet. So sad. The Spider Man Aprilia was fucking fruity.

I really dig the Multistrada 620. So cute. Now if only it was made by Honda, I might consider it.
On the other hand, Suzuki’s “Adventure-Tourer,” or whatever they’re calling these things, the V-Strom 650, is a gigantic pig of a machine. What happened there?

It’s cool seeing the Baja, etc. setups at the Honda booth. I want a Ruckus. To put in my pocket, and carry around. It is too cute. It is $2000. The “Big Ruckus,” new this year, is an ugly turd, and it costs $5300.

The DRZ looks good, and not much different, and has deeper blue plastics. I miss mine. The Super Motard version was not shown, since we don’t get it in California. Boo. It looks like it’s gonna be neat.

The Monster Challenge was somewhat disappointing, except for one cute little café-racer style setup and paintjob. There was a very cute (and CA street registered!) Triumph flat tracker custom dealy in the Triumph booth, though.

The Husaberg had an electric start, and there was a battery in it. It was also very close to the door. We wondered how much gas was in it, and was it enough to get away with it?

Little kids falling off of dirtbikes is one of the most adorable things ever.

Dinner was at a crappy Mexican place where the food had no flavor. The company was good, but I don’t think there’s any reason for crappy Mexican food to exist in California.
Then I went to work at New Wave City, and Sunday I spent fucking off.

jumping ship?

Current mood: oddly patriotic

Anyone who's talking about leaving the country because of this election needs to fuck off.
Your country needs you now more than ever.
I can't see anything to be gained by all the thinkers leaving the country. Yeah, maybe if all the liberals or democrats or whoever you call yourselves, leave, we'll have a great nation of, umm, what exactly? I have never seen any benefit from running away.
48/51 or whatever the latest poll number is, means that we are very close.

I rarely spew patriotic rhetoric, or at least not what's commonly recognized as patriotic these days, but I feel very strongly about making this country better, not worse. The concepts underlying our government are good ones, and democracy is a great responsibility. It's your responsibility to make it better, not turn your tail and run. Go cry for a while, then complain, then rebel, riot, write letters, run for office, do what you can. Do not complain about the way things are if you are willing to even consider abandoning them.

ugh, I hate the president, but you're a bunch of whiny retards too.

Comments:

MonkeyDude

Agreed.

I've never even protested in a march before, but now I'm ready to pick up a gun and revolt. I'm ready to do whatever it takes to get our nation back from those fuckers.

Posted by MonkeyDude on Thursday, November 04, 2004 at 10:18 AM

I want to cry

<>"Network projections showed Republicans would hold at least 54 of the 100 Senate seats, three more than they now have, and widen their slim majority of the 435-member House in the new 109th Congress, set to convene on Jan. 3.

That will make it easier for Bush to push his conservative agenda through Congress, potentially making his tax cuts permanent and appointing more federal judges including possibly some U.S. Supreme Court (news - web sites) justices.

"With a bigger majority, we can do even more exciting things," said House Majority leader Tom DeLay, a Republican from Texas. "



What the fuck are these people thinking?
Nevermind National Security, or the incredibly bad face we've made for the rest of the world to look at.
The rollback of civil rights is alarming and disgusting, not "exciting," and there's more on the way.
And new judges...

By the theory that when people find out they might not able to get something, they run out to horde it (like the stupid flu shot), it follows that we should all run out and get as many abortions as we can, while we still can. That means you boys too.

Nonsense. I can't make any sense.

My horoscope today

<>Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
The population density of Wyoming is very low, but that doesn't mean the people there aren't also out to kill you.

Pajaro Dunes and Cannibalism

Current mood: numb

today's horoscope:
Leo: (July 23—Aug. 22)
You'll feel a lot better with warm clothes on your back and food in your stomach, proving that cannibalism has a couple things going for it.


Not a lot to report here, except PAJARO DUNES SUCKS. I rode two hours down to spend the weekend with my family, only to be told when I got there that they don't allow motorcycles. Ridiculous policy. I don't want to start what will turn into a three page missive about this, but suffice to say PAJARO DUNES CAN SUCK MY FAT ASS. (also, gates don't keep motorcycles out, you stupid old hag.)

2 hours back, wasted my Friday night with that bullshit. Saturday rocked. Drank all day, crawling bars and restaurants near my house. I got pretty well tossed.

Picked up the handlebars, and they won't work for me. Anyone want some ProTapers?

Sunday ate at one of my favorite restaurants and traipsed around the City. I don't often putter around in SF anymore. It was a nice way to spend a weekend.

Then got a few beers and watched the debates I taped on Friday. Was that a debate? I'm not sure. The beer was tasty though.

My brother's in town this weekend for my cousin's wedding. Very cool, I get to see my whole family on Sunday for brunch, before the wedding.
AND, he has finally set a date for his own wedding, which means I'm starting to consider a road trip. But I don't know how much rain I'd get riding to Seattle in April... maybe it wouldn't be so great.


Hungry. (OK, not "numb." But I like the little guy with the fork in his eye.)

fouled plugs

Current mood: stressed

So I had these two beautiful motorycles.
I loved them, they loved me, they even looked good together.

Then I decided to get off of one without slowing it down first. Crash!
Finally ordered the elusive parts to fix it on Friday. (believe me, it was harder than it sounds)
Sunday I just couldn't stand it, and pulled the runner apart and made it unhappy.
Now I have no bike. Which, admittedly, I deserved.
Carburetors are not my friends. I know, but I suspect that I would hate a fuel injector ten times more, since I could not see the mess and understand the not-working bits.
Despite frustrations I had a wonderful time yesterday.
Saturday I got to go see James race sidecars at Sears Point. Very cool. James is nifty, and now a Hot Racer Boy.
Friday I drank, but did not get "tanked."

SOMEONE I know has just picked up a brand new KTM 950. I have no idea who, though. I really hate when people text message my cellphone. Please stop; I have no clue who sends the message. Usually it's just Jack, but I think it must have been someone else this time. Anyway, whoever you are, can I crash your bike? Pretty please? I ain't got one of my own just now.
Being a passenger is fun.
China sucks.
Bitchslaps on the house tonight.

Comments:
John Foley (ape)

It's about time you started riding bitch again.

Posted by John Foley on Tuesday, October 05, 2004 at 9:08 AM

Pauly Unsaturated

Posted by Pauly Unsaturated on Tuesday, October 05, 2004 at 2:23 PM

bling is on the way!

Current mood: ProTaperiffic

Finally ordered the bars for my SV.
Fucking Renthal has all these teaser bars listed on their website which you can't actually buy. After several times trying to order parts which I found there, then finding out that, no, that one is ALSO not available, I've completely abandoned Renthal. Fuck 'em. This is like my vendors in China. They will tell you how great their products are, and how much they are excited to work on stuff and get the business, but as soon as you send them a development, they just tell you they don't feel like doing it. That's if they respond at all. Hello! Renthal apparently learned their business in China. I even emailed them and told them I wanted to figure out how to buy their product and they didn't respond. "Please tell me how to stick money into your business!"

Anyway, I secretely wanted the ProTapers for no apparent reason, and with ONE phone call to Hippie Mark, I can have them. They are on their way now in black, and I'll have them next week. Hack off the ends, visit my SV, and hope for the best. We'll see then if I need longer cables.
All I need now is a footpeg. and a charge on the battery. Woot!

OH!
And, I'm going to go get tanked tonight at Cat Club. Who's in with me?
Tomorrow I'm gonna try to make the races to watch James monkey the sidehack (Go James!), and then I have to work tomorrow night for New Wave City. Yippee-fucking-doo, it's the eighties! The kids love it.
Sunday, I punish my carburetor.

Comments:
John Foley (ape)

current mood: buy me a Goddamned drink.

Posted by John Foley on Saturday, October 02, 2004 at 12:39 PM




Charles:

2 more poops.

why do people give each other fat poops?

do not hack the bars till we mount and measure please

Posted by Charles on Saturday, October 02, 2004 at 7:06 PM

band-blocking goodness

<>Yippee!!!!!!!!
1.) Go to account settings
2.) Select "Block Friend Requests From Bands."
3.) Celebrate

Cycle Gear

<>can suck my fat ass.
I'm tired of being told "no."




Comments:
Pauly Unsaturated

I'm only allowed 2 props. 2 props isn't even close to "mAd PrOpS". This shit ain't even close to where it needs to be in terms of accurately expressing my "prop" needs.


Cycle Gear Rulez!! Although they didn't have valve shims for my RD at the SF store...

Posted by Pauly Unsaturated on Thursday, September 30, 2004 at 9:22 PM




B.

I agree. Cycle gear is sooooooo weak, in fact all motorcycle stores are weak. They are always staffed with complete jerks, who won't help you and act like you've never seen a bike before. Not to mention the fact that you had the nerve to ask for help, now that I'm thinking about it, screw scuderia west too.

Posted by B. on Wednesday, October 06, 2004 at 11:27 PM

since I missed out on that whole "LOL" craze (Myspace Blogs)

Current mood: "awesome!"

Oh good. Now you can give "props" to people in their blogs.
What the hell does that mean? Is it a shorthand for making actual comment? Cuz I love anything that will keep me from actually having to think too hard. oh, yeah!

I also see that I can tell you my mood and what I'm doing. So I can choose from "touched," "predatory," "numb," "contemplative," "indescribable," etc.
Ugh. Wait, no, this is "awesome!" More ways to be EMO!

I'm feeling awesome. Always. But you gotta say it like Doc. "Awesome!"

I also get all this crap:
.
®
¤

and so on.
I'm so glad.

:love:
:clueless:

why can't I make the stupid happy faces work?
Boo.

Comments:

Rebecca

woo!
I rock!
mad props to me, yo!

Posted by Rebecca on Thursday, September 30, 2004 at 8:55 AM

Rebecca

damn, I guess you can't give yourself props.
:(

Posted by Rebecca on Thursday, September 30, 2004 at 8:55 AM





John Foley (ape)

Well, thinking too hard does give you wrinkles. So you lucked out!
No props for you.

Posted by John Foley on Thursday, September 30, 2004 at 10:21 AM




Charles: poops? I will give you poops!
Posted by Charles on Saturday, October 02, 2004 at 7:06 PM

please replace me with an Atari

<>So Saturday I had friends up from the south bay to hang out in the City and do City stuff. There was a tiki art exhibit which was the catalyst for making all of this happen, and while I don’t know how interested anyone was in the actual tiki art, it worked to get my friends to come see me, so I was happy. There were a few pieces in the gallery that I really enjoyed, but we were done rather quickly. We had time to kill so we stopped at a dive bar for a drink so we could feed the meter one last time before dinner. (After trying to explain to Sara that in San Francisco, we don’t just sit on park benches in the Tenderloin to pleasantly relax and feed pigeons and take in the scenery. There’s a reason there’s a giant fence around that park.)
Now, I’ve lived in this neighborhood for ten years, but I clean up better than most of the other residents. I got the distinct feeling they had us pegged for out of towners that got lost in the slums. The first charm was that the bartendress asked us what we wanted, but told us “nothing complicated.” Yay! What a great place! We went about enjoying our drinks while all hell broke loose around us, with a drunken Irishman throwing a cellphone, smashing a bottle, and storming out. Awesome!

On to dinner, at Axum East. I’ve been to the one in the Lower Haight several times, and was pleasantly surprised. Much bigger, and the food seemed just as good. A little different ambiance, but whatever.

Decided to catch the earlier Mousetrap show instead of going to the Vertigo bar, and since I was confused about the actual time, we piled into the car and went. At some point I realized it was an hour earlier than I’d thought so we stopped for a Barrel of Monkeys flaming drink for four at the Lingba Lounge. Charles requested parlor tricks and got them, then looked perturbed.
Out to Hunter’s Point for the Mousetrap thingy. There was liquor and a burn barrel and some couches, so I was happy. The sky was beautiful and I had some of my favorite people around. It was a good time. Oh yeah, there was a life size mousetrap, like the game. Yeah. Cool, but just a fraction of the fun for me. Fun was getting up and down the hillside in my ridiculous furry platform boots with chrome heels. I totally did not break my ankles!

Where next? Sara wants to go to Noc Noc. I mention donuts at the roundabout and Charles wants to go back to do it. And the Mighty Festiva is squealing with joy as we jerk around the circle several times. Charles has not been drinking, and deserves to have his fun too. Finally we exit the circle and make our way to Noc Noc where we get nearly rockstar parking and find ourselves with a crappy floor table. We are all folded up sitting on the floor in a room full of stinky smokers and hippies. The table next to us looks more comfortable. Sara mentions that next she wants to go somewhere she can dance, and I suggest the table next to us. It hardly takes any cajoling at all, and she is ON IT! Charles gave me money to put in her waistband. The people sitting there look bemused, then get up and vacate. Yay! We got a much better table. Unfortunately, sara cannot find the money she earned.

Saturday morning we got ready to go meet Sara and Charles to ride Mt. Hamilton. Paul has never been before, this is one of my favorite rides. But, it’s raining. Just a little when I wake up. Forecast says it will clear up. Anyway, we’re all on dirtbikes, and traction is really just a bonus. But Charles will have none of it, so Paul and I decided to go without them. Then got lazy and confused and made bizarre plans based on the fact that we both thought it was Saturday. Anyway, it ended up not mattering because he couldn’t start his bike. It seems that the XR series won’t run without a sparkplug, and his was stolen while it was parked by my house. Sheesh! Very ironic, since we had just been discussing this very issue, and the fact that his sparkplug wouldn’t even work for smoking crack. Something about a carbon core, or, oh who cares, anyway, two up to Scuderia was an adventure, as I haven’t had a passenger in ages and I only have one passenger peg.

Fast forward to the afternoon, when we finally got to Mt. Hamilton. It had rained in San Jose also, but it wasn’t raining when we got there. The ride up was nice, very little traffic, but the road was a bit slippery. Water in the corners where the trees were. Very thick fog at the top, but very very pretty. This is the first time in a long time that I’ve gotten to the top and NOT seen that asshole UC cop. Guess it was too cold for him to bother. Took the little telescope tour/lecture, and warmed our asses on the heaters inside, then headed down the back. I think this was one of the nicest runs I’ve ever had down the backside and Mines road. Saw a lot of wildlife—deer, quail, some other neat looking birds. Paul saw two tarantulas. Just a beautiful day for a ride. Stopped at the Junction, which for once had no other motorcycles, but was full of colorful locals inside. Headed back into the East Bay, where I of course became lost. Took me like an hour to recover and finally found my way back for a cup of tea before heading home for another week of drudgery.

I thought the whole point of computers and all that crap was so that we could spend all our time playing, while the robots and computers did all the work.
I feel so gypped.

I look better with a beard

What Famous Leader Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

Comments:

John Foley (ape)

Is that what you're calling Paul now? At least you can finally admit it, you big lesbo.

Posted by John Foley on Friday, September 17, 2004 at 10:16 AM



Rebecca

Hey, I didn't "out" you!!!!
Oh, wait, I guess it's not really necessary.

Posted by Rebecca on Friday, September 17, 2004 at 11:39 AM


John Foley (ape)

OUT? I was never IN!

Posted by John Foley on Saturday, September 18, 2004 at 1:54 PM

my friends do the darndest things!

<>So a friend of mine runs this site HotorNot, which is one of the funniest success stories I've ever heard. Best I can figure, HotorNot was a bad idea someone came up with while they were drunk, but he and James have made it into one of the most well known and successful dating websites out there. Oh, and it's oddly compelling to sit and click at for a while.

Jimy did pretty well for himself with this thing and wants to give someone a bunch of money to encourage them to vote. I think that's pretty cool. I think it'd be even cooler if he gave ME the money, but, whatever....

Go here, sign up, look at Jim and James with no clothes on, win big money, and VOTE.

http://rt3153g.VOTEorNOT.org

ps. if you win, you should buy me an ice cream cone. With sprinkles.

don't think someone else is going to fix this for you

<>OK, so this graphic is a bit on the cheeseball side. But in all seriousness, here's something I think is incredibly important. My grandfather was once a rabid Republican, but in the past ten or so years, he's veered away from that. Now he's told me that he feels this is the darkest period in American history, certainly that he remembers, and that he can even think of historically. He really looks scared.

Both parties suck, (I happen to think one sucks less than the other. And right now, that's very important to me.) and they both think that there's a dollar amount on each vote. Some voters are worth investing in, others are not. If you're reading this, you're probably in the "don't waste the campaign dollars" category. They're counting on your apathy to let them run the country for their own purposes.

So, for the sake of my grandfather, please do your goddam job. Go. Vote. It's not so hard, and you get a little sticker when you turn in your ballot.
And, who DOESN'T like a sticker?

To all potential myspace voters: A friend of mine likes to say, 'If you don't vote, then you don't have the right to complain.' And the way things have been lately, you may not have the right to complain if you don't vote. *** Apathy is the death of democracy. *** Click here to register to vote. (It only takes a minute.)

Comments:

John Foley (ape)

You people all need to move to Russia.

Posted by John Foley on Thursday, September 16, 2004 at 8:38 AM



Charles:

http://www.whitehouse.org/initiatives/posters/hot-karl.asp

please backtrack to their home page, for many inspirational messages.

register to and vote.

or stfu

Posted by Charles on Thursday, September 16, 2004 at 8:39 AM

only YOU can prevent office fires!

<>Beautiful. My office smells like smoke.
Last year we all had to evacuate the building (and the entire four or five blocks) because their "controlled burn," wasn't.
Hah hah!
Not so funny to the people who live here.


My eyes/contacts are bothering me, so I know I'm not imagining the smoke in the air right now...

excitement?

chain goodness

<>I finally got a new chain on my DRZ. yay! it is wonderful and doesn't make all that noise. I also suspect it won't need adjustment every three miles like the old one did. I did a really good job on that old chain. It was stretched so damn much, we had to cut a link out to keep it from jumping off and doing a dance numbr on the freeway.

And had a generally wonderful weekend. Again. What did I do to deserve all this?

I finally saw the buffalo in Golden Gate Park. All these years I've lived here and never gone to see them... and, uhhh, it was a little anti-climactic. Those are some seriously ugly and lazy creatures. And the double fence means it's hard to poke, prod, or otherwise pester them.

Some macaroon took the perfectly divey-bar by my house and turned it into a hip-hop-lounge sort of place. Which I wouldn't even care about, except it was nightclub-loud with some crappy DJ mixing disco and hip-hop, or whatever the fuck they call it these days. ***NEWS FLASH: Disco sucks! It might have been sort of funny and ironic the first time someone mixed it into modern "music," but now it's just sucking and making you look like a dumbass with bad taste.*** I preferred the dirty dive bar incarnation greatly. Plus there was no liquor in my drink. Boo. Now where should I go to drink in the neighborhood?

I have not seen charles in so long, I think I am going to cry.

Ha Hah! So Funny!

<>So this morning on the way to work, my shift lever fell off. I noticed this as I had come to a stop between two cars at a light. Fortunately, my bike doesn't too much mind starting up in 2nd, so I was able to go when the light turned and pull off in the middle of the next block.

Pushed a block to park her at the Chevron, then hiked up the block where it fell off. Found it in the crosswalk (must have fallen off immediately after I'd shifted up from that light.) Watched a few cars run it over, and retrieved it. Cleaned a bunch of crud off of it (Thank you Redwood City Honda for ignoring my warantee-covered oil leak. Fuckers) and found a truck full of cheery Irish guys with tools. (Thank you "Sparky's Electric!")

Stuck it on and tightened it a bit with the wrong tools, will check again when I get home tonight.

I know, I need to wash the dirtbike and tighten bolts.
Also, my chain is so loose, I fear I may run over it. Heh.

And I never once lost my spoon!

So every year just before Burning Man, I always think “this is the last time.” And then every year, when I come back, I’m so thrilled, can’t wait to get back next year… Then when it approaches, I’m tired of it again.
This year, I really think it may be the last time. At least for a while. I don’t know for sure that the event and the art were less than in the past. I do know that my involvement, inspiration, and motivation have dwindled, and my interaction was so minimal that I’m not sure I could justify another trip next year.
Which isn’t to say I didn’t have a good time. I had a REALLY good time.

Left Wednesday after work, tossed a little bag onto the bike, met the boy (yes, there’s a BOY), and we headed up to beautiful downtown Oroville for the night, at a five-star Days Inn, or something like it. Intention was to get a few hours north for the night, and save the daylight and rushing so we could enjoy the scenic ride out and still get in to BRC in time to gather our crap and set up in the daylight.
Watched Martha Stewart brainwashing freaky little kids on the TV and learned how to make a Barbie cake. Conked out and got up late (hello? Days Inn alarm clocks are not to be trusted) Packed up and then tore everything apart looking for my bike key. (I brought a spare, but still) Gave up and then found it under my back tire. Is this a bad sign?
Breakfast was iffy, but we quickly found our way up to highway 70 Feather River Canyon, which is one of the purtiest roads I’ve ever ridden. After finally losing the cop, we enjoyed tiny spurts of fun in between trucks and unresponsive traffic switches for the bridge work. Seriously, I LOVE this road. I’d love to come back to the area for a camping weekend or somesuch. Maybe rent an Airstream at “Jackass Flats?”

Into Susanville for lunch and then went looking for our dirt road. Which was, uhhh, completely unmarked, so we passed it. Doubled back and guessed on which turn-off it was, and with some luck, I was right. Smoke Creek Desert road, or whatever it’s called, is a dirt/gravel road across the desert from 395 to about 10 miles north of Gerlach. Very little traffic, really pretty and un-developed. Gravel and some rocky bits tossed my bike around a little, but I definitely was doing better than I did last year on the same road. The XR behind me was handicapped by street tires, so I got to have the delusion that I was doing well, comparatively. Noticed a cave on the left side of the road, and meant to come back to it on the return trip for exploration.
Got to Gerlach and it was still NOT hot. At all. At the gas station, one of the Perimeter workers asked if we were going in to BRC now. “It’s really bad in there,” he told us. Um? Really bad, like what? Like it’s wall to wall hippies? There’s no running water? It’s hot? It’s cold? You fucking dumbass, it’s a goddam desert! “Bad what?” “It’s a total whiteout,” he says. I stopped myself from saying “OH, shit, I guess I’ll just go home then.” “It’s OK, I’m on a dirtbike,” has become my answer to any of this brand of stupidity (It’s raining/dusty/hot/cold/muddy/there’s traffic/there’s no parking/what-the-fuck-ever). “Well, you have to go in through the gate!” he gets all exciteable. No shit, dumbass, but now that you mention it, I COULD go in through the side if they’re all as dumb as you.
Into the city, to the airport, found my sister and parked our crap at Thunderdome. Started trekking around to get our shit to camp. (why must my sister camp on the other side of the world?) I was drinking by the end of my second trip to schlep stuff, and the tent was up before sundown. Happy happy.

And then a bunch of stuff in between. I think every time at Burning Man, at least for me, it’s a little different. Some years I’ve spent a lot of time working at thunderdome. Some times it’s all about the art and the city, some years it’s been about the people I meet and get to know. This year my focus was very narrow and very nearby. I was downright reclusive with this incredible boy, and carry a bit of guilt and a lot of joy from that. We traipsed around suffering through intense blisters and had a damn fine time. Drank a bit, gave bad advice and ate my sister’s food. There was some really cool art, and a lot that didn’t capture me at all. It was a good time, but I’m not sure it was a patently “Burning Man” experience.

I’m writing this so I’ll remember: Fuck the Temple Burn. In the past few years this has been one of the high points for me. I’ve never gone out to watch the Man burn, preferring to stay at camp away from the crowds of yahoos and tweakers. The temple has always been a more quiet, reflective burn. This year it was so very different, I nearly followed Kevy’s lead and walked out. I stayed, but the bitterness won’t go away. The crowd of people gathered was just an extension of the yahoos; there was yelling and bitching, complaining, selfish fuckups and some dumbass with laser pointers. I never heard such angry hippies! “fuck you,” “fat bitch,” and an assortment of other insults and pathetic empty threats were tossed around the group while we sat. They yelled over the singing and complained about every goddam thing around them. I won’t return for that. I’m so sorry for David Best and his team. Every time I see his/their work, I’m in awe, but the crowds that have gathered are not worthy. The burn itself was beautiful, as was the temple in its finished state, but the rest of the experience was really disgusting.

Monday morning plan was to leave ASAP to get our asses onto that dirt road for the long trip home. Note to self: do NOT use angle iron to stake a tent. Left much later than we wished, and only after fucking with my bike when it wouldn’t start. So we took 80 instead, and in order to avoid my falling asleep while riding, we rode like jackasses most of the way. Weeeeeeee! Got home in good time, tired, dirty, and, at least for me, a little euphoric.

Comments:

Charles:

glad u like the boi

sorry BM was just that, a BM

Posted by Charles on Saturday, September 11, 2004 at 3:16 PM

John Foley (ape)

heehee BM.

Posted by John Foley on Sunday, September 12, 2004 at 11:07 AM

What happened was,

<>Past few weeks have flown by. Work is omigod busy. I’ll be flying out to Vegas for work this Saturday for the Magic show, which I’ve never been to, but there’s a LOT of work to be done. The past month has been very stressful getting ready for the show. As ready as possible. I know we aren’t going to have it all together.
It sounds like fun, sure, to go to Vegas, but it’s for work, and most of the time will be steaming samples and dealing with incredibly stressed out boss-types in the sweltering heat. Then, so maybe I get a couple of hours to myself in the evening, to spend, um, in Vegas, by myself. Yawn. Good stuff? We’re staying at the Bellagio. Fancy! For a cheapskate like me. Bad stuff? Leave Saturday morning, return Monday early afternoon. Hello? Where the heck did my WEEKEND go?!?!?!? Ugh. Then it’s Wednesday night straight out of work, heading out to Burning Man. I mean, that’s great and all, but I haven’t had any time to prepare. Um. I need to do a few things first. But there’s no time.

But the past few weeks have been GOOD. I’ve seen 90percent of my most favoritest people in the world. Had the best birthday I’ve had in years (totally beat the crappy Chinese food year) and got to see my grandma last weekend. She’s pretty much my favorite person ever. Went for an incredible weekend camping trip to Big Sur, with a refreshing lack of planning and crap-worrying, and just a little bit of “hey, where’s that dirt road go?” exploring. And, AND, with fancy schmancy BLUE DRINKS. We were the swankiest drunks in the campsite. Nevermind we had no lantern, campfire, or, um, breakfast (raccoons do the darndest things!) It was perfect.

The finger has closed up, no longer bleeding, oozing, or turning weird colors. I lost motion in it, and now trying to get it back, but I don’t know whether it’s going to be permanent or not. Doctor prescribed physical therapy, and if I can’t get better motion by the time I get back from Black Rock, I’ll take him up on it. But it does seem to be getting better, so it may not be necessary. I complain about it a lot less now, which seems a good indicator. And I’m able to do things finally which I’d been avoiding for the past month or so since the accident. But it’s still really sore, and the scar is still designing itself. The bike is seeing progress, but slowly. I’m still on my original schedule: heal the finger, buy new gloves, and THEN fix the bike. I got new gloves last week.

And, yeah, I’ll admit it, I’m AWOL partially because I, uhhh, met someone. And then chased him down until he thought he was chasing me. (or is it the other way around? hmmm) So shoot me. It happens sometimes.

Comments:

John Foley (ape)

Pfft. Can't be that important, since you both still claim to be single.

Posted by John Foley on Thursday, August 26, 2004 at 10:50 PM

Golden Delicious

Did'ja ask him if he's the Devil? Even if you're sure he isn't, ya still gotta ask, ya know. Them types is a sneaky sort, they is.

Posted by Golden Delicious on Friday, August 27, 2004 at 9:09 PM

Hard Up

<>I REALLY REALLY need to go for a ride.
It was bad enough that I was constantly daydreaming about riding.
Last night, I actually dreamt about Tunitas Creek Road. Like, omigod, I REALLY need to be there. Oh! Zayante! Pescadero! And Old Santa Cruz! God, I’m so sad.
I don't know how much longer I can wait. The finger isn’t healed, but maybe it’s “good enough.” I'll just take a bunch of advil first.

I’m thinking soon, very soon, a bit of mellow riding through the fun stuff. Anyone? I’ll be slow; for some of you, it’s your one chance to keep up... (Is that sarcasm or an actual delusion of grandeur?)

prescription barkbusters

<>So at Charles’ behest, I went to the doctor this morning, and, much as I’d expected, he didn’t have a lot to say. “keep it clean” He did tell me not to use Neosporin, but admitted that everyone would have a different opinion about that. He put this ridiculous aluminum and foam splint on it, which I of course had to remove to get on the bike, but may be handy later. I’m wearing it right now and it makes typing a bitch. He then referred me to a hand specialist, because my doctor’s that kind of guy. He’s always waaaaaaay overcautious. Generally, this amounts to lots of free blood work, since anything in the whole world can be a symptom of diabetes. But today, I won a trip to a reconstructive hand specialist. Just to make sure. Uhhhh, sure, whatever, do I have time for this? I think my hand is fine, and he admitted that he did too.
Fortunately, he seemed a little distracted and did not ask how I’d managed to scrape myself. I hate lying, and probably would have fessed up to the stupid accident. It’s embarrassing, for one thing, since I still can’t believe I got bitten by a stupid pothole. What kind of newbie-biker crap is that? I’m running something like 75K now, how the hell did that happen? Plus, I do not need to hear any more lectures about the dangers of motorcycling. Seriously, I would have been more injured had I hit that pothole on a bicycle.
In fact, all I can think about is riding. I’m JONESING so bad for a day, or three, on the bike, in the twisties, in the dirt, I don’t fucking care WHERE. It’s uncomfortable to ride right now, and I’ll admit I’ve lost a little of my riding joy. So I don’t ride for fun, but sitting at home is killing me. I can’t do anything. What did I do before motorcycles? I used to sew. Shit, that takes two hands. Every little thing is a pain in the ass now, and I just pine for my bike and a nice little road trip. I guess what I’m really missing is the feeling of wanting and being freely able to go out and ride. All. Day. Which I suppose I COULD do, since I’m able to ride to work and all, but, something’s not right.

Good news: I’m finally going to get the DRZ tires and wheels sorted this weekend, and that can only make riding better. I’m working on Saturday (someone’s got to pay for shiney new SV parts) and seeing my favorite people on Sunday. Life is good. Right?

I’ve settled pretty much on the idea that the SV needs Pro-tapers and *BARKBUSTERS*. That’s right, if it can’t be my beautiful shiney clean baby, it can be an angry little machine. Grrrrr. No, they don’t serve any purpose. I’m a girl, I don’t have to make sense. Now, does anybody know how I can best accomplish this? There seem to be a million diferent models on the Pro-Tapers website...

Comments:

INKandMETAL

My bike has one black wheel and one red one. Scratches just add character. Be proud.

power to the people.

Posted by Ink and Metal on Friday, July 23, 2004 at 3:09 PM

Charles:

i need rim locks, we gotta switch sets of rims,

OH, wait, there are rim locks on BOTH sets of rims.

oh well

:P

Posted by Charles on Saturday, July 24, 2004 at 6:58 PM

My mother, the NINJA

<>So far, for this pothole, I've gotten an offer of shower assistance, an offer for porn collaboration, two visits from James, a card from SFMC, all kinds of advice about how to treat the wound (most of it violently conflicting), half of Rob's attention for an hour, a set of Held gloves (borrowed, as long as I want them), and an evening with a cute boy.

I'm finally in less pain. (not ready to give up complaining, though!)

Actually started looking at ebay for parts. I need to take photos of the damage this weekend so I can actually have a clear picture of what exactly I need. (It’s nothing like what Kevy did to her bike. I’m not nearly that cool.)

Anyone have an idea of what's needed to convert to ProTaper bars on the SV? I think it will take a few changes... but I don't know what.


But tonight I’m going home to hang out with my mom and sister all weekend. My mom is going to flip out (yes Charles, like a NINJA!) when she sees this scrape and me gimping around not being able to use my hand. Not sure whether I should say something to my parents before we leave (and cause a ruckus) or wait until we’ve left town and she notices it on her own. Maybe I should act surprised at it when she sees it… “holy shit! How’d THAT get there?!?!” “Why’s my bike all fucked up? Mom, were you riding my bike again? I knew I shouldn’t have left it at your house!”


Also,

PARENTAL

ADVISORY

REBECCA CONTAINS EXPLICIT LYRICS

Username:

From Go-Quiz.com



Comments:


Charles: i'm home. go see a doctor. we will fix the bike.Posted by Charles on Monday, July 19, 2004 at 7:01 AM



B.

I hope it's my advice that you took on the treatment of that finger.

Posted by B. on Wednesday, July 28, 2004 at 7:12 AM

suffering for CalTrans' sins

<>So it’s been three days and the finger still hurts like a motherfucker. I don’t really think it’s getting any better. I fully expected it to take a very long time to heal, but I’d figured the searing pain part would subside in a day or two, and I thought the swelling would go down. Wrong, wrong.

Last night was a new low, and I took a nap after my friend called to say he’d be by later. Of course he didn’t show up at all, what are friends for? I woke up after midnight crying. I don’t think I’ve ever woken up crying before. I don’t know what I was dreaming about. But I’d left my contacts in.
I wish Charles wasn’t overseas; he would take care of me. He would find a way to make sure I didn’t feel so shitty right now.

So the swelling doesn’t seem to be getting any better, so I found my wire cutters and destroyed my ring. Damn, I liked that ring. I hope this helps.

So far only one other person has seen it (besides the guy who picked me up off of the side of the road) and he said it looked like it was doing well. But may have been lying to make me feel better.
People in the office keep laughing at me. I look funny, walking around the office holding my hand over my head. I keep threatening to punch them with my one good hand if they don’t knock it off.

I’m spending the weekend with my mom, and I’d been hoping that the finger would start to improve before I had to let her know. I don’t like to make my parents worry. But I’m not sure that’s going to happen. I haven’t gone to the doctor because it’s a wild pain in the ass. It would take half a day just to have someone else tell me it’s ugly, keep it clean, elevated, ice it… and then I have to pay someone for that privilege? If I do have to see a doctor, I’m going to tell them I fell off of a bicycle. Bicycles are dangerous! I want to hear that stupid doctor tell me maybe I ought to consider giving up bicycling.

What sucks? Nevermind that I’m in constant pain, it’s really the inconveniences that suck. I can’t do things like dishes and laundry very well. Nevermind lifting weights, that’s not happening for a long time. Showering with one hand. Trying to open those fucking childproof containers. Grocery shopping. Trying to untangle the blankets. Work has slowed down to a snail’s pace, and just in time for the boss to load a bunch of work on me. The absolute worst thing is putting my glove on to get on the bike. (Need to borrow a larger pair of riding gloves from someone!)

I haven’t even begun to think about the bike or gear yet. I need to replace a bunch of crap but I’m waiting for the finger to stop hurting. Then I’ll send these gloves back to Alpinestars and tell them what I think of their crap. Tell Joe I tested those frame sliders, they worked pretty well (should have gotten “tank sliders” too though. :( Dammit) Go back to my pothole and pee on it. Collect some blood and send it to CALTRANS, along with the before and after pictures (thanks, motherfuckers). Find the dirtbike bars I always thought would be cute on the SV anyway, and figure out what conversions need to be made. (barkbusters! Yay!)

Eat ice cream in my underwear.

Comments:
INKandMETAL

I'm not trying to get on you about the doctor thing. If you'd like a larger pair of gloves I'd be willing to ship you mine. I'd drive them over but I don't trust my car for a trip that long. They're the older (cooler) style Alpinestars SP3, you probably saw them when we rode. I'm pretty sure they're size large and just a little warn in. The thumb is starting to wear through a bit where the nail is, and they have a bit of road rash. Other than that though they're still good gloves. I'm going to upgrade to the fancy kevlar covered ones, I hear they make you faster...
Just let me know if you'd like 'em and I'll get them in the mail to you

Posted by Ink and Metal on Wednesday, July 14, 2004 at 11:54 AM

MonkeyDude

Let me know if you need any help showering... :-o

Serioulsy, if u need anything, drop me an email or something...

Posted by MonkeyDude on Wednesday, July 14, 2004 at 3:42 PM

I always say, it's not really yours until you've crashed it. :(

<>What the fuck.
I can't really wrap my head around what just happened. But I do know it REALLY REALLY sucks.
Went to the South Bay to do the oil change and clean up the SV. It served me so well touring up to Seattle and all; I thought I’d be nice and take care of it. Changed oil, replaced the bent shift rod, cleaned and lubed chain, I EVEN POLISHED THE FUCKING THING!!!!!
Came out to leave, and "man, that is such a purty bike!" I do that a lot.

Now it’s taken several steps toward being a little street rat. I can’t have anything nice. But THIS I don’t understand.

Coffee in Mountain View, then up Page Mill and over 35. I’m not going too fast, just a more scenic route home. 92 is totally backed up, stop and go. At the bottom of the hill there is a stoplight, where you can go straight or make a left turn. I always go straight, then hop on 280 with the big round onramp. But I thought you could also turn left and go that way. For shits, I decided to check it out. BAD IDEA. It’s all luck, what puts you in the wrong place? A stupid sense of finding out where that road goes…
Wait at the light, there’s a guy on a sport touring bike pulled up just behind me, I’d passed him earlier, a nice responsible rider. I get a green arrow, make the turn, straighten up, and I’ll be on my way. Hey look, a little pothole thingy in the pavement.
A little pothole that makes my bars shake violently. I thought, "the bike is tossing, but it will come out fine" Then, "I’m fucking crashing!" I can’t believe it. I don’t understand it. It wasn’t a giant pothole, I wasn’t moving all that fast, and I was going in a straight line.
I fall hard on my left hand and slide a ways; the bike falls on its left and slides even farther. I watch it slide away throwing dollar signs out behind it. Then I see the guy on the sport tourer coming up and braking and swerving, maybe a little too much, and thinking he's going to hit me. This made me feel guilty and I was very relieved he didn’t. I get up, and I’m really pissed. This makes no sense to me, and the bike, the bike was pristine. Not anymore.
I walk toward the bike and all I can think about is how it’s gonna be all fucked up, and it was so nice just a few hours ago. And all my good riding gear is trashed, which I just bought a few months ago, and all because of this fucking pothole.
The guy had pulled over and I was at the SV same time he was. He wants to know if I’m ok, I just want the bike up. We get it up and out and I start feeling sick, and I know my finger’s fucked, but not sure how badly.
A lady in a car stopped to help, but I sent her away, since there wasn’t much to do. I started calling James immediately to try to get help, since everyone else is in Europe, but was too out of it to remember that James was at Thunderhill racing… An ambulance was suggested, but unnecessary. I felt sick for a while and sat on the side of the road to gather my wits after sending the other biker on his way.
I told the guy I wouldn’t try to ride it away. My finger, I wasn’t sure if it was badly damaged. The SV handlebar has bent to an extreme angle, and left a funny scar on the tank (I’m not laughing yet. I loved my pretty blue bike) The mirror and stalk have broken off, there’s road rash on stuff, and the end of the shift lever is nowhere to be found (the only part I wasn’t able to recover.) The passenger peg is now very stubbornly stuck in the up position, as is the real footpeg.
I have a tow service. Do I tow it home? And leave it at a shop? $$$! And then how do I get myself to work? That’s a crappy option. Tow it to San Jose? What an operation, and then I have to tell my parents. The whole tow truck return to San Jose would be very dramatic looking, and more than they need. I always like to wait a few days to tell them, so I’m already OK, and they don’t have to panic.
I was starting to think that my finger WASN’T broken. Does the bike run? Why yes! Can I shift it, well, not really. The lever is missing the foot part at the end. I figured I’d try riding it to the end of the street to see, and decided that I could actually do it. My finger had become movable again, and the guy had given me his one sad little Band-Aid to put on it. Helpful? Mostly in spirit, but it was nice to keep the nastiest roadrashed bit out of contact with my gloves.
Got my sad little SV down to San Jose, riding with my hand up in the air the whole way to try to keep swelling down. Got to the house, and fortunately the parents were at church. I figured I had 40 minutes to get out before they came in and I had to do some explaining. I pushed the SV as close as possible to the wall so they won’t see the roadrash. They MAY notice the lack of mirror, and then look, but I’m hoping for the best. Anyway, I’ll tell them in a couple of days…
Called a friend for paramedic advice, mostly because, well, I’ve just crashed and want to hear a friendly voice. Also any tips on what’s the right way to clean this up. No luck, so I ran hot water, scratched away some of the dirt, doused it with bactine, took some ibuprofen, and put a gauze bandage deal over it. I’m missing a bunch of skin. I think it will take a while to heal, but be ok? I hope.
Couple glasses of water to calm down, and out the door. With any luck, they won’t be home or see me leaving.
Damn, I still haven’t been able to get my street tires on the DRZ, and so much for preserving these knobbies. The extra wheel set concept sounds good, but for me it doesn’t really work. Fuckit. And I’m on the road, heading home, hand in the air. This is really hard to do on the freeway for and hour. It’s like those people who accidentally leave their blinker on but I’m using a hand signal and left IT on. All the bikers coming back from Laguna Seca think I’m waving at them. Whatever. I’m fussy and sad. I just lost $1000 to a fucking pothole.

What MUST be replaced:
My riding gear. Fuck, this is the worst part. That really costs a lot, and it was mostly new.
The handlebars.
The shit lever.
The mirror
Then the really ought to replaces:
Footpegs and brackets,
Frame slider? Maybe
Need to see Joe about fork straightness once I’ve replaced the handlebar.
The tank is a new shape, with a cross-hatched scar from the bar end. The tail and signals and holeshot flyscreen have roadrash.
Fucking goddam piece of shit pothole.
I still don’t understand this. I’ve ridden over millions of potholes. I don’t get it. I know my dirtbike would not have lost its temper for a pothole. Fucking streetbikes.

Comments:

Rebecca:

hah!
Make that "shift lever."
"must replace... shift lever"
freudian slip


ouch.

Posted by Rebecca on Monday, July 12, 2004 at 10:55 AM



MonkeyDude

Hey, sweetie. I hope you're healing up ok. Horrible to find you on here this way... but hopefully you're doing alright. You might want to try and get that ring off your finger, if you haven't already. It could really do damage to your finger by leaving it on... you can get it cut off at a jewlers and they can repair the cut fairly easily, if I remember correctly. The rest of the stuff is just that, "stuff," and it can be replaced... glad to hear you're ok for the most part.

Posted by MonkeyDude on Tuesday, July 13, 2004 at 5:15 PM



Marisa

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
CRAP!
I'm so sorry!!

:(:(:(
Let me know if there's anything I can do.

Posted by Marisa on Tuesday, July 13, 2004 at 5:15 PM



Kevy

Welcome to the Crashed SV Club darlin'. I'm sorry! I can honestly say I feel your pain. It always seems totally fine till the last second before you eat pavement. Then you sit up going "What the fuck just happened?!?!?!"
It wasn't your fault.
It was the universe cocking the Fuck-with-me-gun.
At least that's what I tell myself.
I'm going to have a rather large bill myself to get my bike back.
You wanna team up and do some porn together? That'll make us $3k quick!
;)

Posted by Kevy on Tuesday, July 13, 2004 at 7:59 PM

INKandMETAL

Pot holes, rocks, they all fuck your shit up. I wrote down the parts you need, if I come across any in my search for straight wheels I'll shoot you a link or pick it up for you. Take care of that chunck of meatloaf on your finger

Posted by Ink and Metal on Wednesday, July 14, 2004 at 11:41 AM

sunrise

woot, 5:20 and I'm just getting in.

It's like I'm a kid again! I keep thinking I'm getting old.

uhhhh, hopping into bed, then hopefully do some riding this weekend... call if interested, but not before 11!

how did one so young and beautiful turn out so dirty and... used?

<>boo.
Something's up with my SV clutch. I've been in denial about it for a month or so.

Bike's only got like 14000 miles on it, so what the hell is that?

ugh.

or, yay! Now I get to learn how to rebuild a clutch!
Guess it's time to shell out for the shop manual first.

Anyway it needs to be cleaned up (damn big bugs between here and Seattle) and oil changed and a few other bits. It wasn't too long ago she was shiney and perfect. What happened to us?

But the dirtbike is still set for dirt. Got wheels and tires, but everything's in the wrong place. What's a girl to do?

It's hard being me.

Some people need live-in butlers. I need a shadow-mechanic.


Comments:

Rebecca: I got some drunk boys to poke at the bike last night. It seems to feel better. hmmmmm...

Posted by Rebecca on Friday, July 09, 2004 at 9:50 AM

Home. Let's do it again.

<>So yesterday I got up at the crack of dawn (actually, I didn't: the sun gets up too damned early. But I was on the bike by 6 am) to ride from Seattle all the way to San Francisco. Not quite Iron Butt, but close enough I probably just should have thrown in a few hundred extra miles to get the pin, or plate frame, or whatever.

A lot of people told me not to do the trip in one day. Several people told me I "couldn't" which is probably why I "did." And now I've done it and can say: never again. That sucked.

I made quick work of Washington. Washington is beautiful, and I got on a cop's radar just once (that I know of, but I'm pretty sure that if I didn't see one, I would have gotten pulled over). He was sitting in the median with his hair-dryer pointed at me, and I grabbed a bunch of brake. Somehow I got away with it.
I love all the rivers and bridges up here.

Into Portland after french toast, with the best intentions of sticking to the speed limit all the way through to at least Medford. Yeah, right! I'm an incorrigible speeder, and my speedo creeps toward 80. Another cop on the median outside of Eugene, he points at me too but I've just slowed down from one of my marathon speeding/passing sessions.
Red lights flash behind me on the other side of Eugene, and I see I'm done. Boo. But I pull over and he keeps going. Yay! I win!
That's a sign. That I should speed more, right?

Stopped once in Oregon for gas. I am getting the best gas mileage ever, I can only assume because the traffic is so smooth. People in Oregon and Washington know how to drive! Pass on the left, move to the right. As I get closer to California though, the traffic gets worse and worse. It's not that there are more cars, it's just that more of them are "hanging out" in the left lane. Where they DON'T belong. There needs to be a law against trucks passing on uphills. Omigod. I am so good, I am NOT lanesplitting at all.

It gets really damn hot and I peel off all the extra layers. It's not enough; I am near California. Up a nice little mountain, and "welcome to California" Aha! And now I start speeding for real. Down the twisty mountainside, weaving in and out of the cars. (just because you bought a car that looked fast in the ad doesn't mean it should reside in the "fast lane")
There's a cop at the bottom, but again, he has just missed my REAL speeding. heh. Two more cops within 50 or so miles. Fuckers. But somehow I am getting away with it.

It's fucking hot in California and there are too many cars. All sitting in the left lane. Now I'm weaving, and my gas mileage has dropped dramatically. There's a huge backup in the pass by Shasta, which I fortunately am able to lanesplit. Fuck those other states, there's no way I'd give up lanesplitting.
Somehow I missed the 505 and ended up going all the way out to Excremento. Whatever, I was home by 10, in time for the Simpsons. Most importantly, there was a Guinness left in the refrigerator. Yay!

So that was the first long trip by myself, first long trip on the SV. Here's what I learned:
- I LOVE Seattle. I already knew that. But I'll never live somewhere that I can't lanesplit.
- The scenic route through Oregon was nice, especially the Dunes. But the rest of the coast up there- never again. Too many flurking RV's. And that was on a Thursday morning!
- Bring extra keys for everything that takes a key.
- Things I can’t do without: electric vest, MP3 player (with earplug speakers)
- That windscreen is cute and all, but it’s never going on a long trip with me again. I’ll leave it on for around town, but I’d rather ride naked than have that fucking thing blow ALL the air directly at my head all day. I found that if I popped my head around the side, or leaned up and back, the wind noise it created dropped a lot. Kept wanting to take it off but couldn’t figure out how to get it home without breaking it.
- The “long way” scenic route is often quicker since there’s less traffic, and more speeding.
- Seattle to San Francisco needs to be two days: For one thing, it’s scenic if you do it right, and it blows if you do it wrong. Also, a ride that long and boring is just a recipe for speeding tickets. I have no idea how I made it home with my license intact, but I shouldn’t push my luck.
- I MUST go ride the Washington forests again. Mt. Rainier was beautiful, and I just got a little taste.
- I should have planned more of what I wanted to do in Portland and Seattle before I got there.
- I have a new favorite bar. It is very far away. Boo.
- I want more road tripping.

Monday: Hell and back

<>No, I'm too tired to spew the vitriol this deserves. I'll try again tomorrow.

Sunday: Seattle

<>Ben and I went to Capitol Hill, where I bought furry boots and we visited a "museum of oddities" which I'm still not sure what to think of. Some sort of paranormal nuts... umm.
Ate chocolate cake, then drove around for a scenic tour and CUPCAKES. I LOVE CUPCAKES.
Talked to my brother about the ring he has in his possession and his plans of what and when... mostly at my mother's behest. For the first time, he has a girlfriend I really like.
Went to a 4th of july fireworks watching party at his friend's house, which was tolerable, but, well, boring? The view was stunning. I really love Seattle. I'm pretty sure I'd move there if it weren't for one very important thing: no lanesplitting! I think I'm always going to live in California, if for no other reason than, why the hell should I sit and wait with all those losers in their cars?

Saturday: Seattle

<>So, uhhhh,
Saturday I just hung out with my brother and his girlfriend. He just bought a house, they have a nice quiet habit of a life.
At my demand, we looked up tiki bars and I pushed them to take me out of the house. We went over to some street for walking/shopping/whatever.
One of the bars that came up on our websearch was there, not a tiki bar, properly, but looked cool. It wasn't open, but I couldn't bear not to drink there, so we went to the pub nearby to drink until the bar opened.
So, coming back once the place was open, and this bar absolutely rocked! It's absolutely my favorite bar, and I don't get to bgo back! At least not for a while. The bartender was lots of fun, and let me order drinks by color, all of which came out very tasty. He let us borrow the rubber ducky to keep us company and had a drink with us. He even wrote up my bar tab as the colors of the drinks... PERFECT. The PERFECT bar. Despite no umbrellas.
We stayed there for several drinks and then went to another neighborhood to an actual tiki bar, which totally sucked because they didn't bring me an umbrella in my drink. The other customers had umbrelllas, so I became terribly bitter. Ben requested umbrellas, which they brought, but I still think that bar sucked.
Also, who the hell brings their baby to a tiki bar?

This journal entry is not very interesting. I'm fucking tired.

Friday: Portland to Seattle

Slept in a bit Friday morning. Wednesday and Thursday were planned in advance. I knew the route before I left on wednesday, and had times all worked out.

My plan was fairly detailed, up until Portland. Now I'm just winging it. I have half a thought to zig zag up to Astoria, then over to Mount St. Helen's, then out to Olympia "on the way' to Seattle. I'm feeling surprisingly comfortable and not tired of riding. But decided on a simpler scenic route to get me into Seatte at a reasonable hour. ther are BARS in Seattle. TIKI BARS, even.

Cruised around Portland for a while looking around for anything interesting, wasn't too excited, but I did stop at a cafe for breakfast since there was a crowd and a Hawk parked out front. (which, I totally behaved and didn't tell they guy it was a girl's bike) Got onto I-5 North into Washington and rode up carefully observing the way-too low speed limit. In Washington, even I-5 is pretty. People drive way better in Oregon and Washington than they do in California. I felt a little guilty about a few slightly aggressive passes I made that day, which wouldn't have been notable in California.
Turned off at 12 to go East into the forest. And on 12, passed by possibly the most breathtaking Vista Point I've ever seen. Wow. Very very pretty. Again with the RV's, but I'm getting good at passing them now. Mt. St. Helen's is to my right, and the lake, and on the left is a national forest. Turned off at 123 to enter Mt. Rainer National Park. Stopped to take a photo of my bike at the gate, and entered the park. Really really pretty. Part of this road (Cayuse Pass) is closed in the winter, and of course that's a good sign. Up at the top the road get twisty, and there's snow on the sides. I wanted to double back and ride it again, but was a little worried about gas availability. Little waterfalls peek out from the hill next to the road and the views on the side are breathtaking. I'd like to come back here soon and run the other passes in the park.
This takes me to 410 and again, I haven't really studied the map. I know this points generally to Seattle, but I don't know how, nevermind I don't actually know where my brother lives. Again, the good sense of direction kicked in and I found my way to Capitol Hill pretty easily and parked with some other bikes. And sat for coffee. Called my brother, and arranged to meet down the street for drinks.

The ride was fucking great. To do it again, I would get a better map, to find the real backroads, and skip some of the crappy RV stuff. I fucking hate RV's. What is it about Americans that makes them want to get the biggest of everything? Are we getting away from it all but bringing it all with us? What's the fucking point? It's so obnoxious to all other travellers, and it defeats the point of travelling, to bring your own home and insulation from the world around you. The more of your own home you bring, the less of the new areas you experience.
Get a fucking clue, and pull the fuck over while you're at it.

Thursday: Weed, CA to Portland, OR

<>I was on the bike by 7am. I had this idea that my day as planned would take like 10 hours, plus time for any trouble that might come up.
Blasted into Oregon, pulled over somewhere for gas, dreading the Oregon-gas attendant wierdness. The girl bounded over and I was like "do you have to punp the gas?" she said no, she'd prefer not to touch it, but she had to hand the thing to me and push the button. Still annoying, but whatever. Apparently, they're supposed to give you a dribble rag too. What am I, some kind of fucking moron who can't pour gas without spraying it everywhere?
Pulled off of I-5 in Sutherlin, took 138 to 38 to get to the coast. These two roads are fairly scenic, riverbanks on the side, nicely paved, light traffic. And now that I'm off of I-5, I'm railing along at respectably unpublishable speeds. If it weren't for all of the RV's and logging trucks, all of the roads I took Thursday would have been nice. At approximately double the speed limit. Ahem.
Got to the coast at Reedsport. Stopped to lube my chain and read a little sign about the Dunes. And then North along 101. I thought this would be a nice ride. And it would have been, if there weren't so many goddam tourists and trucks. Ugh. Well, I'm glad I did it, but I'll never go back. The first hour or two of 101 was really goddam pretty though. This, I could see doing again, maybe cut out around Florence. The Dunes National Park area is really stunning, there are little lakes or lagoons or whatever on the side of the road, and then the dunes poke out every so often. Apparently, a good portion of the park is open to OHV, so I wished I had my DRZ for a little foray (into crashing. I have no clue how to ride sand. It's been explained to me, but, I'm a trainwreck) All the bridges and rivers/bays/whatever are really pretty. Stopped a few times for gas and met two other motorcyclists on a road trip from Santa Cruz.
Yes, everyone, I'm travelling alone. This seems to strike a lot of people as odd. But, seriously, I want to go. I hate herding cats. I am not putting my life on hold simply because I can't sucker people into doing stuff with me.
Stopped for food in Tillamook and gassed up. Then took 6 (Hello! Now I am REALLY speeding!) to 26 (boo, now I am not speeding.) into Portland. No, I had not planned or looked at a map. My plan was "go to Portland." but I managed to go directly to my hotel. Days Inn, meh.
I had refused Charles' friends company and hospitality based on the thought that I would be arriving late, like 9:30 or later, and exhausted. But I was in at 5:00! I couldn't believe it. I may have been speeding? Looked at a little map of Portland and suddenly wished I'd done some sort of research or planning of what to do once I got there. So I walked around looking and decided:
Portland is very pretty.
There's not a lot to it though.
I generally have a very good sense of direction. But Portland, for some reason I was constantly lost, and confused.
I wished I had a travel partner at that time. I guess I got bored.
Ate, had a cocktail, then I was omigod sleepy and dragged myself back to the hotel. On the way back I passed a club I thought maybe I'd come back to. Yeah, right, maybe in my younger days! Once in the hotel I flopped out. I don't even think it was 10:00.

Comments:
B.

hehehe you lubed your chain.

Traveling alone rules!

Posted by B. on Sunday, July 04, 2004 at 4:38 PM

Wednesday: Brisbane to Weed

<>Left work around 6:00, hauled up I-5.
Figured out a few things.
First, Stonyford isn't that far. We always get there so late because we stop for a real sit-down meal. Maybe next time we should skip that.
Travelling alone is fast. I have a real speeding problem. And I hate to stop. That's definitive of my personality in general anyway. But I-5 is so boring through most of California. Just as the road started to become pretty, the sun had gone down. I could see that the mountains and lake were probably very nice, when I got near Shasta, but I was on a mission. The moon was fullish, and looked fucking nice on the lake. But I was on my way. Pulled into Weed I think around 10:30. Parked behind another blue SV (newer, square frame-- sucker.) and slept very well. I could see my bike from my window, and the room was nice. Comfort Inn in Weed is an OK place.

My ass hurts just thinking about it

<>Tentative plan. No reservations made yet. (I really ought to get my shit together)

Wednesday: leave work by 6. (I’ll tell everyone I’m leaving at 5:30, and hope to be out by 6)
Ride 4.5 hours to Weed, CA. Check in, say, around 11:30?

Thursday: Up and out of Weed by 8am
Weed, CA to Roseburg, OR: 3hours. Arrive, say, 11:30
Roseburg to Reedsport: 2hours. Arrive, say, 2.
Lunch? Stop to cry and wish I actually had time to enjoy the scenery?
Reedsport to Newport: 2 hours. Arrive around 5.
Newport to Portland: 3 hours, supposedly, but that’s through Salem, on 5, through rush hour. I’ll guess 4 hours, which gets me in around 9.
So much for enjoying and hanging out in Portland! That makes Thursday’s trip a little over 12 hours, with time included for whatever small things come up (no long stops allowed!)

That’s what I get for wanting to make the sidetrip out to the coast. But it’s supposed to be so darn purty, I just can’t resist.

Oh, man, and I can’t lanesplit. On the other hand, if they’re in cruisers, how easily can they catch a lanesplitting motorcyclist? Hmmm…

Friday: out of Portland whenever, up to Seattle (not too far), prolly take the scenic route unless I’ve lost all my riding joy (very possible)

Hang out in Seattle for a few days. I have people in Seattle. I just want to find more tiki bars.

Monday morning very very early, get on the bike and go into sleep-riding mode. It’s a lot of hours down 5 to get to home. 13 hours optimistically, plus stops, holiday traffic, blah blah blah. Ugh.

I know:
No speeding in Oregon.
No lanesplitting.
Apparently, there’s no restriction on earphones in OR or WA. I’m getting more memory to load my RIO tonight.
I think the Oregon gas pump law actually was altered to exclude motorcyclists in the past year or so.

any words of wisdom? Sugestions? Do YOU know where the pirate restaraunt is? Or some tiki bars?


Comments:
INKandMETAL

Does this entry come with a free pair of glasses?

Posted by INKandMETAL on Tuesday, June 29, 2004 at 2:40 PM
<>

My ass hurts just thinking about it

<>Tentative plan. No reservations made yet. (I really ought to get my shit together)

Wednesday: leave work by 6. (I’ll tell everyone I’m leaving at 5:30, and hope to be out by 6)
Ride 4.5 hours to Weed, CA. Check in, say, around 11:30?

Thursday: Up and out of Weed by 8am
Weed, CA to Roseburg, OR: 3hours. Arrive, say, 11:30
Roseburg to Reedsport: 2hours. Arrive, say, 2.
Lunch? Stop to cry and wish I actually had time to enjoy the scenery?
Reedsport to Newport: 2 hours. Arrive around 5.
Newport to Portland: 3 hours, supposedly, but that’s through Salem, on 5, through rush hour. I’ll guess 4 hours, which gets me in around 9.
So much for enjoying and hanging out in Portland! That makes Thursday’s trip a little over 12 hours, with time included for whatever small things come up (no long stops allowed!)

That’s what I get for wanting to make the sidetrip out to the coast. But it’s supposed to be so darn purty, I just can’t resist.

Oh, man, and I can’t lanesplit. On the other hand, if they’re in cruisers, how easily can they catch a lanesplitting motorcyclist? Hmmm…

Friday: out of Portland whenever, up to Seattle (not too far), prolly take the scenic route unless I’ve lost all my riding joy (very possible)

Hang out in Seattle for a few days. I have people in Seattle. I just want to find more tiki bars.

Monday morning very very early, get on the bike and go into sleep-riding mode. It’s a lot of hours down 5 to get to home. 13 hours optimistically, plus stops, holiday traffic, blah blah blah. Ugh.

I know:
No speeding in Oregon.
No lanesplitting.
Apparently, there’s no restriction on earphones in OR or WA. I’m getting more memory to load my RIO tonight.
I think the Oregon gas pump law actually was altered to exclude motorcyclists in the past year or so.

any words of wisdom? Sugestions? Do YOU know where the pirate restaraunt is? Or some tiki bars?


Comments:
INKandMETAL

Does this entry come with a free pair of glasses?

Posted by INKandMETAL on Tuesday, June 29, 2004 at 2:40 PM
<>

San Francisco Motorcycle Club 100th

<>What a weekend. SFMC turned 100 years old and celebrated all weekend. I was there four days in a row, and now I need to recover.
Thursday night’s meeting was pretty cool. Two things: 1.) a bunch of people came from out of town, as far as New York to celebrate. 2.) they had table service during the meeting. One of my biggest problems has always been not having a beer to get me through the hour long discussions of stupid shit.
Friday they hosted the scooter club’s beer tasting party. Which I almost skipped. Fortunately, I got bored and decided to go. Beer “tasting” is just another word for getting totally fucked up. I went for the darkest they had, and I went for a lot of it. It was tasty. I had told Lionel my theory about not being able to get really drunk and hungover from beer. That you would get full before you got drunk. Apparently, he took this as a challenge. I have no clue how much I drank because after the first couple of beers, my cup never got empty.
Hilarity ensued.
I think we left at like 3 or 4 in the morning, but I don’t actually know.
Saturday I had every intention of going to the morning boxing class at my gym, then heading to the street party by 12ish. Unfortunately, I had a good bit of a hangover working, and couldn’t manage to get out of bed for that. It was a struggle, but I got to the fair around 1:30. And was hungover late into the day. It looked like we were all hungover pretty well into the day, so that was nice. A bit of community suffering is a good thing. The street fair was fun, mostly just to see people. Left to work the eighties club, and came back the next morning for the ride. NOT hungover. yay!
Ride was cool (even though I never got my fender fluff), our group got lost a bunch, but that was OK, since we weren’t in a rush, and caught some extra views. I’d never been to the Marin Headlands before, so that was a treat. Back into the city to the clubhouse and I finally got the pizza I’d been dreaming about since Thursday. Niles and I started a new motorcycle club on the spot, which is so cool I can’t even mention it here. We all made a racket with the rubber duckies left from one of the games, and scattered in the late afternoon, very very tired.

Some of the guys in the club were working their asses off all weekend, and in the weeks leading up to the event. It was a great party, the collection of bikers down from New York, Washington, and a bunch of other places was awesome. If you ride, and especially if you’re local, you should be kicking yourself for missing this… The SFMC has a wonderful collection of biker history in their clubhouse. They have open meetings on Thursday nights, and you should really stop by and check it out, if for no other reason than to peruse the walls of photos spanning the history of the country’s second oldest motorcycle cub. (PS, there’s also a "fountain!")

motorcycle stuff this weekend

<>In case anyone hasn't heard about this yet, the SF Motorcycle Club is turning 100 this year, and throwing several celebratory events this weekend for motorcyclists:

http://www.sf-mc.org/onehundredyears.html

I'll be at the street fair sometime after 11:30 or so, and I definetely plan to make the ride (don't know when)

If you want to join me, let me know...

-Rebecca

pssst, I still need fender fluff for the ride :P


Oh, and also, I'm working Saturday night at New Wave City. It will be at 550 Barneveld, which is a really nice space. If you like 80's, let me know if you want to go...

A Public Service Announcement About Jeans (My eyes! They burn!)

<>I realize that low rise jeans are in fashion. However, please note the following important guidelines:
1.) There’s low rise, and there’s ass-crack low rise. If you aren’t Kate Moss, you should probably opt for the low-ish, not the 4” rise. And if your underwear is hanging out, at least make it something worth seeing. No one wants to see your laundry-day granny panties.
1a.) Sidenote; A thong hanging out a bit is excusable. A thong pulled up high so that 5-6” are exposed, along with the witty text on the front, worn as accessory= very BAD!!!! Why!?!?!?! WHY did you do this to me?!?!?!? I can’t wipe that one out of my memory.

2.) It turns out that pants come in different sizes now. Which means, if the jeans are too tight, it’s actually possible to get a size bigger. If you are a size 10, buy a fucking 10. Don’t think that buying an 8 will make you look skinnier. You’re just horrifying everyone around you with that shelf of fat that hangs out over the squeeze point. (I’ve seen this on fat and skinny people alike, get with it people) Trust me, you will look way better in a size too big, than a size too small.

3.) About those new washes on denim these days: I’m all for it. Yay, creative, different. We’re all a bunch of snowflakes. However, there’s no reason for your jeans to make it look like you just sat in something. All that weird coloration on the ass? Ummmm, no.

Travel news! (change of dates)

<>Update:
Change of dates: to be flexible for a work training thingy that just came up, I'm pushing my trip back a week. So I'll leave 6/30 after work or 7/1 early in the morning, spend 7/2 in Portland, and proceed to Seattle 7/3. Leave Seattle at o'dark:thirty on 7/5 to be back in the City that evening.


Woot!
I got the time, I got the bike, I'm hitting the road.
I'll be riding up to Seattle for a little weekend trip.
Leaving either: after work on the 24th, or 25th in the morning.
Thinking I'll stay in Portland Friday to see what I can. (I hear there's a PIRATE restaraunt!)
Shoot up to Seattle Saturday am, hang out for a few days, return either: in one shot on Tuesday, or in two legs, leaving Monday and taking a scenic route, and another night in a hotel. I gotta be at work on Wednesday. (bastards!)

Suggestions? I don't know Portland, I'd love to know about must-see-and-do's along the way, and Seattle things I may have missed.

yay!!!!
gimmee gimmee travel goodness!

Comments:

Matthew

Yee-haw!
Made it back safely we hope?

Posted by Matthew on Tuesday, June 15, 2004 at 12:16 PM

Apparently,

I am Ash, from the "Evil Dead" trilogy.
I'm the guy with the...chainsaw.


Which Random Cult Movie Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Comments:

B.

YaY!!

ASH!!

Posted by B. on Tuesday, June 15, 2004 at 8:03 PM

Finally, the French do something useful

<>http://www.cnn.com/2004/WORLD/europe/06/10/france.suvs/index.html


Comments:

B.

Yai!! Screw over-sized cages.

Secondly, the French have done lotsa good things. Get offa the French!!

Posted by B. on Tuesday, June 15, 2004 at 8:04 PM

New York blows

Back from New York, tired, glad to be home.
New York is a pit of "coolness" which I don't care for.
More specifically, Midtown, sucks.
Last time I was there, I spent some time in the Villages, which was fairly nice.

This time I spent the entire time in Midtown:
stayed at the way-to-trendy Hudson hotel. A nice place, but it's full of hipster trash people and scene. I felt weird every time I walked through the lobby. Gauging by the last trip for work, I had figured I'd have no time to do anything but work, but I was wrong. Monday night we worked, then had dinner with just the Merchandising team, dinner was good, I came home and watched a documentary about Andre the Giant.
Wednesday after the meeting, four of us went to dinner in SoHo. It takes forever to get across town in that fucking traffic. I was scared just to be in the cab in Midtown, I can only imagine riding a motorcycle. Actually, for once, I don't even want to have my motorcycle. After dinner, returned to the Hudson and found myself with time to kill and nothing to do. And in Midtown, walked around for quite some time never finding a bar I could stand. Everything is so goddam cool and trendy there. All I want is a dive bar! Or a pub where the lights are dim so you can't see the stains on the walls. Everything is clean and everyone is wearing designer shoes and ties. Suck, big suck. I love to travel alone, and here, I felt lonely. I fucking hate New York. (at least the business trip area of it)

Finally found a "pub" where the bartender was actually Irish. After an hour of wlkaing, this was clearly the closest I was going to get to an actual pub. After a pint, went back to the Hudson and watched a documentary on Jeffrey Dahmer. Then started in on a documentary about Ed Gein. Fucking great. What a glamourous, happy life I have....
Sweet Dreams, woke up and wandered a bit before joining up with coworkers for the cab to the airport.

Next time I need to find some sort of dirty punk-rock escort service, someone to call up and just take me to someplace that doesn't reek of designer perfume, where I don't have to eavesdrop on conversations about people's pilates, botox, prada shoes, high-dollar vodkas, and low-carb beers. Let's just all get drunk, fight, and fuck. Fucking hipster trash.

Next time, I'll plan to get the fuck out of Midtown, maybe go back to the dive bar I found last time, with no taps, and a bathroom that I think was the inspiration for "The Worst Bathroom in Scotland." People were friendly there at least, and the jukebox was good. And nobody asked what brand of water you wanted.