BECAUSE YOU ASKED

I

I just got home from the first winter ride I’ve done in years,

and what a revelation! Only about fifty miles, ten down Rt 66

and I-40 to pay my gas bill, then up and around toward Pampa.

I was reminded of Ole Bartender Dan in Maggie Valley all those

years ago, said his wife was named Harlie, and she was parked

out front. He scowled, “What is it with all you bikers in your new

leather ridin’ through my town, scowling at everybody and everything

you pass?” Said, “The only time I smile is when I’m ridin’.” 

I said, “It’s probably because they know you live here." So he bought 

me a beer and we got to be friends. The next day, he hauled me and 

the bike to Waynesboro to get my flat fixed. He didn’t ask for money 

so I gave him a copy of my book,

“Motorcycle Sam.”

II

It’s January second, and eighty-nine degrees because the whole world has gone crazy.

So I thought of Dan, smiled, wrestled my leather on, and took off. The Texas speed 

limit is seventy-five so that’s what I do, the semis aim for eighty, so you gotta stay out 

of their way. In McLean, the little gas lady looked at me worried, said “You owe for 

two months, You want to pay for both right now?” 

“Yeah, you’re the only reason I come this way, it takes at least an hour to get ready 

and ride over here, seems like a lot of trouble to do just one thing.” She nodded, 

said, “But it’s eighty-one dollars!” I handed her my debit card… she shook her head, 

“There’s a three percent surcharge if you use a card.”

III

I took the back road home because the sky was so clean and blue, not a cloud or a

chemtrail in sight. On days like this, if you look hard at that stunning sky, you can 

see all the way through to the black on the other side. The smooth gray ribbon stretched 

through the next forty miles lined with every shade of brown God could come up with, 

so the scattered Angus look like spots of India ink on parchment. Except for the occasional 

gate or dirt road, every mile was lined on both sides with five taught strands of barbed wire 

like musical staffs.

Sometimes, if you are lucky, you might see a small herd of Antelope, or down by the

only creek, a field with hundreds of white tailed deer. Kites and hawks watch from the poles

and fence posts, but in all those smooth, empty miles I was alone. One car, and two F150s

to justify the Texas fixation with seventy-five miles per hour on these winding back roads

with no shoulders. You get the same feeling as you do along Alligator Alley in Florida,

neither one a place you want to lay it down. I’m an evidently delusional seventy-six year 

old nut-case, but I don’t care what anybody says, nothing beats the wind in your face.

IV

I just remembered September, and the last time I rode this way. Every season has it’s hazards, 

Summer heat, Winter cold, Spring rain, early Autumn grasshoppers. These Llano Estacado 

bullets will take you out! They wear helmets better than yours, except these cowboys out here 

don’t wear helmets to show that brain damage ain’t all that bad. Leather will not save you, it’s 

like getting shot with a bullet proof vest on, if they don’t break a rib or shin, they will still leave 

you with a polka-dot set of bruises. Starlings wait in parking lots to feast on the smorgasbord 

laid out on people’s radiators.

Back home in Gouge Eye, my next door neighbor, the widow Shirley was swinging on her 

porch, so I pulled over for some good conversation and the sweet warm hug I needed to put 

an exclamation point on the day.

Reviews

[Lorry]

Sad to hear that hipsters have invaded the biking world too Vol, with their pristine leathers that must be the next step of their evolutionary success.
No matter how much i go for peace and love i still hate these waste of oxygen morons, who used to be happy paying thousands of dollars just to look like an 18th century cobbler, yo sit in coffee shops carrying books they've never read because they think some writers are cool, or clacking away on keyboards, retrofitted on their mac book air to sound like an old fashioned keyboard, because the looks of contempt it gets them is somehow mistaken for adulation and I've already wasted enough time on these pointless people so I'll just carry on silently waiting for a 80mph semi kissing them face on.
I remember Billy Connolly ended up in hospital when he came off his Harley trike and he was so impressed with the ambulance crew saving the life of his jacket by cutting it off him along the stitching before attending to his wounds.
It does seem a bit strange to be impressed by that,but he did live that jacket.
He had a big purple Harley trike that you can see him on if you can get hold of Billy Connolys route 66 documentary. Its well worth a watch just for all the arm...colourful individuals he met along the way.
It does sound a more entertaining way of paying for your gas than my, click on their app to get fiscally molested by their charges and it would bring a tear to a glass eye to see a monthly bill of mine, and thats with me having solar panels and underfloor hearing too!
And try reporting that kinda molestation to the cops and they'll laugh you out the precinct!
We don't get many grasshoppers here but the mighty midge is enough of a pain in the wherever they feed on ya. If you ever make it out this way, check to make sure you can get a bottle of Avon skin so soft as its the only thing that'll stop them. Its a moisturiser because they can't sell it as a midge repellent because our lawmakers are slightly inbred and majority retarded. It works 100% and all the locals will agree with you.
Now im wondering if it will mess with hipsters, but I guess drowning them in it or poisoning their mochalattecinos with it would be frowned on by the courts! 😀

[Vol]

Lorry,
It was 89 here !!! Lisa works at home Depot in Amarillo, just 60 miles west, and it war almost 20 degrees cooler. Our Interstate Highway 40 runs right along the line where Canada air goes to war with Gulf of America air. One time when we drove over her on Christmas Eve, we arrived with 76 degree air, but it got down to 2 degrees and snow that night... Happens all the time... perhaps you've heard of "Tornado Alley?" I have an underground bunker tornado bunker just outside my back door... full all kinds of s**t I should have thrown away instead.
Vol

[Lorry]

Is that the North Atlantic drift that hits New York around late November/early December Vol? If it is i know what you mean because I was in New York one year when it hit and although it was cold to begin with I couldn't believe how painful it was to breathe in. I also couldn't believe how quickly New York dealt with it, clearing roads with trucks at 50 plus mph. Over here the drivers would be pulled over and drug tested for that!
But yes, places that have decent weather who then feel the temp plunging have it a lot worse because its such a shock to the system.
We don't get even overly hot summers here and our record temperature in Scotland is i don't know what but I do know its never broke a hundred...and the year it almost did the roads melted!
Do you remember the film with John Candy about the Jamaican bobsleigh team called cool running? The Jamaicans coming out of the airport when it was snowing, only to go back in and change into all their clothes was hilarious...but completely understandable and sensible too. We have Jamaicans here too and I cant understand why. Maybe some of them get sick of all that sun and rum! 😀

[Vol]

Lorry,
I just discovered season 14 of "Death i9n Paradise." The new detective is of the same mold as his predecessors, and more appropriately, Black, but who prefers cold soggy London to an Island in the sun... I just checked and the record high temp in Inverness is 85... I don't know how anyone survives the two-way, one lane roads I see in most UK TV shows... Is it that everyone drives at ten miles per hour? Even downtown NYC has got to be safer. Oh, and historically most of those kinds of road service are managed and controlled by Mafia Dons. Unlike the government, it doesn't pay to do s****y work. Jamaicans in Scotland, have it worse, I think, than Brits do in Jamaica... If I were a free man, I'd pack a tent and fishing equipment, and set myself up on a Caribbean beach... PERMANENTLY.
Vol

[Lorry]

Its strange you mentioned driving because up until you did, mention those roads you cant overtake on, I hadn't even thought that most of the roads here in rural inverness-shire don't even have speed signs. Okay, only because their mostly so bendy and twisty that going more than 20 would be deemed insane, but you do get the odd mental patient trying to pretend he's a boy racer and going at stupid mph. We call those types of people organ donors! 😀
But fear ye not because just over the border in Berwick there is a road that leads into Northumberland national Park that will make you have a trouser accident. Its so steep so fast it feels like you're falling off a cliff!
But back here you only notice the difference when you need to use another route, usually caused by rockfall or landslide. Where as Americans drill roads through tunnels, we scenic morons say "you cant do that, which i found out a couple of years ago when I had to take a 60 mile detour to get to work, which is usually only five minutes away. So in summation Vol, I say go for it. Take over Greenland and drill for oil... you can always use sealpups to wipe up any oil spills! 😀
Ps... seriously we need more tunnels in mountains. Just think of all that fuel our cars won't be using if we could actually go A to B without visiting X, Y and Z first! 😀

[Vol]

The best part of riding a motor is "the scenic route." Of those I've taken, The Blue Ridge Parkway in Virginia and North Carolina...If you ever get back over here, Or, do what I just did and checked out Northumberland national Park on Google Earth... Kimberly and I got caught in a major thunderstorm up there... when the hail came, I pulled off under a tree, shouted, "Lightening is gonna kill us if we stay here!" She hollered back, "let's die moving!" I loved that girl! There were several tunnels, but without shoulders, and well, American speed demons will show another way to die. Finally pulled off and onto the covered porch of a closed ranger station.. I waited there while Kimberly went into the ladies room, fond a corner and assumed the fetal position... When it was over we resumed the party. Later, we checked the TV in our room in Asheville, the news said the hail downtown was three inches deep. Why would anybody choose a car and miss all that adventure?
Vol

[ETERNITY]

That was so beautiful, Vol. I could feel every turn, almost laying it down around each one. The scenery is extra special on a Harley, me sitting 'queen' on that King-Queen seat, leaning back on the sissy bar, looking for the next truck stop to sit at the counter and have a red eye. You are such a great story master.

[Vol]

Eternity, thank you...
I'm not a Harley guy... thank God... Everyone I've ever known is an analy retentive clean freak. You can eat off the floor of their garage, every yard tool they have is hanging on a wall, and outlined in black tape... They are exceedingly organized and if they also have a car, it's probably a Corvette... folks with the same syndrome... My students whose dads rode them were never good enough, never could live up to dad's expectations... a lot of unhappiness... I know there is no medical or psychological study or name for their disorder, It's like TDS...
Ha, I bet you weren't expecting that...I just saw it so often and it really gets to me that those kids were hurting so much...
Vol

[ETERNITY]

Frank Chitwood had a bad crash on his Harley. His face was a lot of metal but he got back on his bike so he wouldn't have fear of it. We were together two years. No, he was a mechanic in a factory. We hunted and fished and got all kinds of dirty in the foothills of Virginia. My dad showed up and I went back home. Frank and I lost track. He drove an old black 1963 Chevy. The one that got away, I guess. You always drag up these old memories for me, sheesh Thanks (;