Thursday, February 4, 2010

“These are the times...”

Thomas Paine was as much of a visionary as he was a revolutionary in the fight for American independence. I cannot help but feel he envisioned me personally, when on December 23, 1776, he wrote, “These are the times that try men’s souls.” He wasn’t kidding. Though it is a balmy 32º (Fahrenheit -- please see note below) on a day of brilliant sunshine — with expectations of hitting a pleasant 39º high — the weather dopes on network TV from Philadelphia are claiming we can get up to a foot of snow tomorrow night, going into Saturday morning. It is hard to rejoice in this kind of prognostication considering the state and municipal response to these storms will be to dump tons of salt, gravel, and cinders on the pavement. This will be the fourth storm we’ve had in three months and the street outside this house is beginning to resemble a dirt road. It is curb-to-curb rubble, with extra debris deposited in intersections, blind curves, and just before hidden stop signs. It is amazing that the stuff they put down to make ice less slippery, is as slippery as the ice itself when left on a dry road.

Important author’s note: All temperature measurements on this blog are cited in “Fahrenheit,” because this is the United States and that’s how we do things. If you don’t like it, you can kiss my ass. This incredibly accurate and easy to understand unit of measurement was named after Franz “Liebkind” O’Fahrenheit, an Irish physicist who allegedly established it after he came off a six-day drunk. I am told by reliable sources that Fahrenheit remains the preferred method of measuring temperature in the most progressive countries, such as the US and Belize. For those less fortunate who live in Fahrenheit-free countries (where tiny coffee cups and women who braid the hair on their nipples are the norm), I have provided a convenient metric conversion link here. Fahrenheit died a year before Paine was born. Otherwise, they might have been great friends.

American "Fahrenheit" coffee cup on the left... Celsius coffee cup on the right. Photo by Leslie Marsh.

The accumulation of gravel and cinders on the roads around here makes it worth your life to lean into a curve, attempt a hard stop, or just to put your feet down without going into a serious slide. Last week, three days of drenching rain and temperatures in the high 60’s washed away the salt, raising hopes of some early season riding... But then it snowed again, dropping three-quarters of an inch of precipitation followed by two inches of granite quarry slag and salt mine run-off. The major roads have been bleached white by the salt on them. Speeding vehicles are pursued by clouds of salt dust, which have to be bad for the beautiful black engine casings on my signature 1995 BMW K75, and worse for my lungs, which are already tanned from years of healthful cigar smoking. Last year, Dick Bregstein and I rode deep into January, spitting in the eye of the elements. Some salt crud managed to cling to the chrome crash bars on my bike during those rides.

“I’ll deal with that later,” I said to myself. Two weeks later, the salt had already pitted the chrome. Now I didn’t really give a shit as I had plans to powder coat these bars anyway. (They look great in flat black, a natural chrome replacement color for any motorcycle, and one that eliminates hours of polishing stuff.) But damage to the engine casings would make me sick.

Now to some riders, like Rick Slark (author of Keep The Rubber Side Down) and Domingo Chang (author of REDLEGS RIDES), there is nothing more exhilarating than riding off into a country-side buried under two feet of snow. Their blogs routinely illustrate hellish rides against an uninterrupted white background. Another friend of mine, world-class rider Doug Raymond, once attempted to ride through a Rocky Mountain pass in the middle of a blizzard. I salute these fearless BMW jockeys and admire their spirit. But for me, riding in snow or on roads choked with grit and salt is strictly shit for the birds. And the way things are shaping up now, I won’t be riding until the middle of March. Coincidently, I have scheduled my first group ride of the new season for the third week in March. This is assuming things warm up and local public works departments, plus PennDOT, go after the overtime and sweep this grit/shit off the pavement.

It should be noted that the fiercely independent and notoriously green state of Vermont no longer coats their roads with salt in the winter time. Rising concern over salt damage to the environment gave state leaders and ever-present “Friends of the Muted Shrew” (of which there are 2.5 left, both shrews and their friends) sufficient drive to seek an alternative. They now liberally sprinkle cinnamon over the pavement whenever it snows. This does nothing for traction, but it makes the whole place smell like fresh apple pie in the winter.

My bike, one of the most perfect motorcycles ever built (artistically and tastefully tweaked into a two-wheeled signature masterpiece), sits on the center-stand in the garage, connected to an “Accumate” battery tender and life support system. Putting my ear to the gas tank, I can detect a barely audible hum coursing through its steel muscles. It is the quiet resolve of this Teutonic machine to again range free and unshackled on a multiple state rampage. Brian Curry, well known among the Mac Pac and BMW circles as a K75 Guru, switched out the connecting plugs on both the battery tender and the pigtail to the battery. I believed he used something akin to a John Deere connection, which appears to be tighter and very effective. Disconnected from the tender, the pigtail has a tight-fitting cap and disappears against the black background of the frame when not in use.

Under normal circumstances, I would be doing whatever I could to get my machine into Tom Cutter’s shop for its annual service. However, the unanticipated loss of 80 percent of my income since (last December) has cast a pall over motorcycle expenditures. The typical service I would be seeking this year includes changing all fluids (engine oil, transmission, coolant, and brake fluid) plus lubing the rear shaft splines. Tom Cutter — of the Rubber Chicken Racing Garage — services motorcycles like Edison invented light bulbs. Cutter restoration bikes are highly prized and valued at the top of the rare motorcycle food chain. He has been recently honored by the International Council of BMW Clubs as a “Friend of the Marque,” which is one of the highest forms of recognition bestowed by the group. It is not uncommon for bike owners to list “Cutter serviced” as an added feature of a machine they are looking to sell.

I may attempt to do some of this work myself, but publicly admitting this drives up the cost of the repairs when I eventually show up at Cutter’s with a disassembled motorcycle in a bag. Anticipating the day when I might be forced to service my own bike, I invested in a set of tools, in an official toolbox with many little drawers, purchased from my riding buddy Clyde Jacobs.

“What are you going to use these for?” asked Clyde, as he pushed the red toolbox into the garage on a dolly.

“It is important to have all of the tools you need whether you are attempting a routine service job or a major modification,” I replied.

Clyde looked at me as if a public toilet someplace had begun to recite Shakespeare.

“Do you know where the oil filter is on a K75?” he asked, in the kind of snide manner assumed by a paleontologist polling a third grader to see if he knows the brontosaurus is pointy at both ends.

“The oil filter is strategically placed in the middle of the K75’s lubrication system, where it can most effectively screen out contaminants,” was my answer. Followed by a robust, “So fuck you.”

“That’s what I thought,” said Clyde, concealing a smirk of encouragement by beaming it around the garage. “If I come back here in a month, I bet this tool box will be on the back porch, doing double duty as a cigar humidor, or in the exact same place I left it.”

Some comments are best answered by a gesture and I flipped Clyde the bird in a defiant challenge. He had his back to me, however, and lost out on a great opportunity for a comeback. His reflexes aren’t what they used to be and it pains me to take advantage of a friend in this manner.

Most BMW riders keep their garages and workbenches looking like operating rooms where rich people go for plastic surgery. The garage here is a total shit house. Two of the bays are reserved for Leslie’s Subaru, the canoe, and her art stuff. That is because this her house, which I presently infest like a huge parasite. (Leslie is as merciful and compassionate as she is endearing.) The motorcycle bay is home to my bike, a trailer, and all the gardening stuff. It is scientifically arranged in such a manner to closely resemble a flea market that has endured a natural gas explosion.

My shit is all over the place.

The garage looks like a flea market that has endured a natural gas explosion. Photo by Leslie Marsh


There really is no excuse for it... But in the event the gentle reader will accept one, let me say my joints seldom surge with enthusiasm for reorganizing this space. I had thought about holding one of my famous “garage night events,” in which I graciously sucker my riding buddies into giving me a hand with stuff like this, but recent setbacks would cause me to insist they also bring the beer, pizza, and cigars. There are limits to what even I can get away with. Besides, I am reserving their favor for more important things, like picking my fat ass out of the trench when I slip on the last fucking handful of gravel left on the road when I take my first group ride on March 20th, 2010. I have asked my beautiful, 25-year-old-daughter to give me a hand. She is delighted to do so and has a free Saturday morning on March 13th, 2027.

Perhaps I am looking at this the wrong way.

Maybe what I need are four more weeks of global warming, during which the snow falls fast and furiously, in atmospheric conditions that cause sparrows to freeze in flight, and also during which the authorities drop enough ground stone for ancient Roman road-builders to make a highway from Naples to the rings of Saturn, to isolate me from the distraction of riding, and to concentrate on organizing the garage and writing something that earns me millions of fucking dollars, and the attention of women who will stand alongside my ride routes, just waiting to lift their shirts for my consideration.

For Nikos:
Twisted Roads Reader Nikos posed a question a while back, regarding oil that appeared to be leaking out of a vintage BMW “R” bike’s rear drive. I put that to the boys of the Airhead’s group at a recent Mac Pac breakfast.

They claim that it is most likely the lubricating oil from the bike’s final drive, seeping out through a weep hole that is there for that purpose. According to Todd Byrum and Joe Dille, there is rubber membrane or seal in the rear drive that keeps the oil in there from coming into contact with the braking mechanism. They suspect the rubber seal has given up the ghost. Now as I recall, this motorcycle is close to 20 years old, and nothing rubber lasts forever (though child support seems to).

Joe Dille says the ruptured seal could be indicative of a bigger problem involving a bearing. It is my understanding that this sometimes occurs in these older machines if they are not properly maintained. If I recall, you bought it as the second or third owner. If it is a bearing, it isn’t likely to be an inexpensive investment. The job should be done by a qualified BMW wrench. Your contacts with local BMW groups in Britain should be able to give you some good recommendations.

Coming Up...
On Monday: This blog will feature a long overdue “Dispatches From The Front” section, during which I will air my dirty laundry (letters from readers), honor readers who have sent me stuff (Bob Skoot, Ricky Matz, and Tena Abbey), and detail some future rides, which some of you might try to attend. Unlike Michael Beattie from Key West, I love surprizes.

Twisted Roads will feature new blog posts every Monday and Thursday! Set Your RSS Feed Now!


©Copyright Jack Riepe 2010
AKA The Lindbergh Baby (Mac Pac)
AKA Vindak8r (Motorcycle Views)
AKA The Chamberlain — PS (With A Shrug)

47 comments:

Electra Glide In Blue said...

Jack,
You're right.. your shit is all over the garage, no wonder you have a spider problem. Good thing they are in hibernation bout now. Spring is just around the corner. You need to plan a "garbage sale". My RSS is set to record your every move.....

Cantwell said...

Pussy! It's just a little snow. Get out and ride. You now have much more snow that we do and I suspect that I'll be riding much earlier than you. I'm planning on making President's Day an annual ride. You'll have to trailer Fire Balls up out of the snow to the Adirondacks and give her a spin.

Charlie6 said...

Truly Jack, these are the times to try men's souls. I'll stop there as whining won't solve anything.

Thanks for the plug and lumping me with hardy riders you know, I just have a warped sense of what's fun, that's all. To your readers, two feet of snow will stop me....the Ural gets high-centered. : )

Your local friends may snicker but really, basic services are highly doable by damn near anyone. Then again, I've read some of your stories about wrenching on your own motorcycle....with all the time I have on my hands these days, I'd gladly come over and help you service that K-75, if only I was closer.

Please pass along my congrats to Mr Cutter, he truly is one of the Gurus of the Beemer community.

I now have to go deal with my oldest son, who seems destined to routinely have to use the phrase "you want fries with that?" in his future and only possible work environment! : (

irondad said...

Nature has this wonderful system of checks and balances. It keeps the world right and mostly safe for the inhabitants. You know the stuff I mean.

Things like passing out when we drink too much which cuts down our chances of killing ourselves with alcohol poisoning.

Another example might be snow in Pennsylvania. Really cold temperatures kill off a lot of mosquitoes that might otherwise spread malaria and whatnot.

The snow also keeps other dangerous pests off the roads and in their garages. Whatever those pests might be.

If you say what I think you might, just be sure to clarify if it's in Farenheight or Centigrade. It will help me visualize it better if I can picture big cup or little cup.

Isn't this so much more fun than philosophical ruminations?

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Jeff, Micharl, Dom, and Dan:

I can't believe none of you guys clicked on the metric converter link.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Chris Luhman said...

Jack,

I see that you have a severe case of PMS (parked motorcycle syndrome). Now that you have some tools, take the wheels off that stroller and make some training wheels for your BMW. You have to get some use out of your new Gerbing coat. Riding in the snow is great fun!

-Chris
Everyday Riding

PS: RSS reader is set!

Charlie6 said...

Silly us, we assumed (with all that implies) that a link to a temperature converter would be just that.....

Interesting methodology to sell tires by Pirelli.....

Electra Glide In Blue said...

Jack,
Thanks for pointing out the link, it was worth the look. With only SAE tools in my box I didn't think I needed any metric conversion, I was wrong.
Thank you for warming up my winter.

Binomially speaking, Ihor said...

Good to hear that posts won't be so far between. A correction is required however, the brontosaurus name has been retired as inapplicable. The sauropod is in fact now known as an apatosaurus due to corrections (fact sheet - http://www.enchantedlearning.com/subjects/dinosaurs/facts/Apatosaurus/)
As I am on mandatory furlough on Lincoln's Birthday, perhaps I can offer to assist in a garage re-organization. We can enjoy an exotic lunch and put the space into better order.

cpa3485 said...

Somehow Jack, in spite of the economic depression, I suspect that you will land on your feet instead of your ass. Sometimes things happen for a reason we cannot see.
Just si you know, I did not click on the link for metric conversions. My canadian Subaru has taught me well ovr the past few months since we bought it. It speaks kilometers and centigrade. One day as my wife and I were riding in the Subaru, we noticed the trip odometer. We noticed we had gone a very long way on the last tank of gas, that is until we realized........
Tonight I am thinking I may try and braid my nipple hair.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear EGIB (Jeff):

If you think the garage is bad, you should see my desk. Leslie is thinking about having a flush handle installed on it to facilitate clean-up.

I'm feeling a burst of enegy coming on, due to arrive on Lincoln's Birthday. You'll be amazed at what the garage looks like then.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Mike:

True, the snow down here would hardly ever make the 6 o'clock news up there. But the newscasters love to have something other than the daily murders to report in Philly.

There will be no President's day riding down here.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Charlie6 (Dom):

A screw driver becomes a lethal weapon in my hand. Some day you will get to meet Brian Curry. When yo do, ask him what happed on the occasion when I tried to measure and top off the bike's transmission fluid.

He will tell you straight that I have no business in a garage.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear IronDad:

Some of us, like Conchscooter, are destined to be the philosophers. I am resigned to going through life, writing the kind of dry material that has to simply be judged on the validity of its practical content.

What can I tell you?

Please note that Leslie took the pictures of the garage and the coffee cups. She used a $2.5 million camera that reversed the polarity of the lighting in the garage, and which altered the molecular structure of the cups. The camera has 1,842 settings and will take ne picture for each setting in under 2 seconds.

I didn't erven have to get off my fat ass.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Chris:

I have added a link to your blog in my "Destinations" column on the right. I didn't realize that you are a dedicated "Rounder," going through life on a Ural. (We all have our crosses to bear.)

Welcome to the Twisted Roads family of rider/writers.

While it is highly unlikely that the snow predicted for today will let me ride anyplace, the wheels on the stroller are like aspirin in comparison to my ass. I'd have to use the tire from my Suburban for training wheels.

Nice to hear from you...

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Ihor:

The picture of the garage has been staged in some respects. It will actually take us less than two hours. It's tough for me to move the heavier items, and I am limited in some other respects.

It would be great to see you and we could bum around Lancaster (Strasburg) if you have never been up that way. I know a great English Pub in the vicinity that you will love. Great fireplace too. Lovely variety of Scottish ales.

We'll chat on the phone today.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear CPA3485:

I have the amazing ability to land in shit when confronted with death-defying odds. My only doubt at this point is an economy that could be at the narrow end of a ten-year trend. In which case, discretionary spending is going to be a fond memory. And what is motorcycling other than discretionary spending on a large scale.

I'm delighted you didn't need to use my metric converter.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

bobskoot said...

Jackie:

I should have known you were up to your old tricks. I did see the metric converter link but passed on it - 'till now.

Excellent video filmed in Centrigrade. any idea when the Fahrenheit version will be released ?

bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Bobscoot:

Isn't Centigrade the capital of Bulgaria?

You can always rely on Twisted Roads for the kind of information that makes your day bearable. Thank you for reading my tripe and for applying it in your daily life.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Nikos said...

I, I mean we, that is Mrs Nikos, her pile of junk and I, are proud to be featured so promiscuosly on your blog.
Matters took a turn for the worse last weekend when Mrs N declared her admiration to the drab green colour scheme of the R65: I had been planning a deep gloss black and silver pinstripe paint job so at least it would look a motorcycle of distinction rather than an ex Belgium Police force oil spewer...

I'm so glad that you did not use the term centigrade - so tacky - Rankine is absolutely good too...

Kindest best wishes, N

Cantwell said...

Dear Jack,

I didn't click on the link because I work in the world of the 'two party' system. In the past 30 years the world of limnology has embraced the use of the centigrade temperature like you embrace a elliptical machine. Researchers are(were) all over the board about the standard....thank goodness because I would have clicked on your link.

Truly,
Michael

motonomad said...

Jack,

Let me know if your strategy of shamelessly sucking up to Cutter results in having Fireballs serviced for free.

And here's a thought: Rather than attempting to organize that garage bay, why not just store Fireballs in your Suburban? That way, when you move into it yourself, you'll have company.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Nikos:

I am planning to visit Centigrade sometime next year. I hear Bulgaria is the next hot vacation spot.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Cantwell (Michael):

This is the sixth time in as many communications that you have implied that I am either fat or have reached a point where I should be regarded as real estate. the ime is coming when you will be pilloried as basly as Bregstein in this blog.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear MotoNomad (Peter):

Tom Cutter is a giant among men; a god among the godless; and a legend — towering over those who stand in the back of the crowd, content to predict my demise.

I have made no secret of the fact that the Suburban could serve as my future address. Look at it this way, there will be no snow to shovel. (Not that I shovel it here anyway.)

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

A week away, Ihor said...

You, I, and Ray went to Strasbourg(sp)some time ago, arriving 10 minutes before the RR museum was set to close.
You might also care to make an inventory of other tasks that need attention. I'll bring any necessary tools and sufficient expertise.
I'm sure putting the garage in order will be no trouble, when is trash day?

I'll bring lunch, mwaaahahaha!!

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Ihor:

Did you read the initial post thoroughly? I have all the tools in my new red toolbox, with many drawers. Actually, I have no other tasks that need doing.

Your idea of lunch is two saltimes held together by a raw squid sucker, carefully carved from the tentacle. We could go take a look at something else.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Appetizingly, Ihor said...

I was actually thinking of kishka, but I didn't want to derail your dietary regimen. The Polish deli is a Disneyland of deli-delights. Or I'll just bring Boost. I would be remiss in not haranguing you about girth at every opportunity.

And Ihor said...

I was thinking of wood working tools, not related to mechanical matters.

Of course I read the post thoroughly, always do, in order to submit corrections and critiques.

Cantwell said...

Jack,
I simply stated that you dislike elliptical machines. I think I saw a trophy mount of one in your house in Wilmington. As I recall it was a bit twisted and it rattled because it was full of buckshot. You reminisced about how you had stalked it, tried to mount it and when it started to get the best of you, you shot it with both barrels of your Beretta 686 12ga. By the way, I abhor elliptical machines as well.

Sincerely,
Michael, aka the douche-bag who was accused of calling you fat too many times.

Chris Luhman said...

Jack,

I was thinking you could make something like this. It'd fit right in:
http://static.flickr.com/4045/4332746095_0aaa53920b_o.jpg

Thanks for the return link!
-Chris

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Ihor:

Kishka! I had almost forgotten what it was like. Let nothing deter you in this regard.

Best Wishes,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Ihor:

Everything here is pretty much ship-shape. I need to change a few high-hat bulbs upstairs and to put a new one in the motorcycle bay garage door mechanism. My riding buddy, Clyde, does home repair and cabinent installation for a living. Leslie relies on him to keep stuff on track here.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Mike:

As you are aware, the is a full-scale gym in the basement of this house. I went downstairs yesterday and ate a pizza in front of all the equipment.

I never called you a douche, but Chris Wolfe did.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Chris Luhman:

Whatever it was you sent me, it's not showing up at this link. But thanks for the thought. This was like getting a Valentine from my former wives.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Conchscooter said...

Turn your back and there you are, 37 fresh posts (or are they long windbag replies? Everybody knows the capital of Bulgaria is Latvia, Centigrade is the headquarters of the Candian Secret Policeman). Besides if I wanted snow I'd be smart like you and live Up North. It rained for 20 minutes solid last night and today it is a chill 69 (17). Does that count, asshole? Oh and suburbans have been banned from the streets of Key West as the city has all the money it needs and is turning people away (except Quebecois as they give the town an exotic air).

Nikos said...

I think that I can speak with a certain authority about Bulgaria as my paternal grandmother's brother had a wine business there in 1914.

Centigrade is the new tropical ski resort that is being built on the Black Sea coast just north of Lower Plovdiv with EC grant aid totaling €1,250,000,000,000. Due to be finished in 2085 according to latest reports.

That is all for now so toodle pip

N

classicvelocity said...

Jack, not sure how you made out in this storm, but we only have about 7 inches here in the greater Allentown/Bethlehem/Easton area. I live on the border of two counties. One uses gravel, and the other salt. I'd rather have neither, but at least the salt washes away with any kind of rainfall. The drawback is its more corrosive nature. The gravel is treacherous until you've had at least a couple of heavy rains, and a ride before that time can be akin to sandblasting your bike with coarse media.

The Carolinas are looking good right now.

Wayne

cleondann said...

Another classic trend that is also one of the fashionable accessory now days is display humidors.

cleondann said...

For more information visit:
humidors

Phyllis said...

Dear Jack, I am enjoying reading your blog! This is the way I travel now. Keep on!I should start a blog but will have to figure out how to do it. My kids have taken me on lovely rides on their Aprilias, and my uncle (Ted Petras)flew Admiral Byrd to the 'South", so we are all traveling as best we can. I would really like to ride in an Boeing Raptor!! Kind regards! GO SAINTS!!! Phyllis

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Conch:

The recent arrival of the white death in this neighborhood has gotten me sidetracked for a few days. But I'm now and able to address certain issues you've raised. I intend to live in my truck, parked in front of your house, running a clothesline from my tailgate to your porch. I will also have an extension cord running to an outside outlet. Kindly have wireless computer service installed so I don't have to come in whenever I want to use my computer.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Nikos:

Is there any way I can muscle in on that grant?

Always delighted to hear from you.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Classic Velocity (Wayne):

I did an entire blog describing my adventures with the recent storm. We got 22 inches of snow in the drivrway, and it looks like we could get more than a foot again on Wednesday.

With daytime temperatures at freezing, it is unlikely this stuff is going to melt anytime soon. I suspect the early riding season will not kick off until the end of March here.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear cleondann:

Thank you writing in and for leaving a comment. As the author of a highly regarded cigar book, I can assure you the best humidor I ever had was a large peanut butter jar.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Phyllis:

Feel free to travel along on my blog anytime you'd like. There is only one better way to travel than on the pillion of an Aprillia... And that's in the pilot seat of a K75.

Thank you for your kind note and for reading my blog.

Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad

Anonymous said...

Oh heck, now I remember!!! I did not know I would get everybody's comments. New to computers. Thanks for understanding!!!Phyllis