Thursday, August 4, 2011

Message In A Bottle From A Neighbor Up North...

The following account was sent to me by Stuart Seaton, a regular columnist for Motorcycle Mojo Magazine in Canada, where men are lumberjacks and the moose subscribe to online dating services. Stuart is one of the few BMW riders I know who recently participated in an event which required the Royal Canadian Mounties to subdue what amounted to a few old friends passing laxatives around a campfire. I thought his account so extraordinary, that I made it my "Thursday" Blog episode. This makes Stuart a winner of a copy of "Politically Correct Cigar Smoking For Social Terrorists," a book that is becoming quite rare at reasonable prices. Got a great story to share? Send it to Twisted Roads, and see if you too can win a prize. Mark the subject line of your entry, "Great Story," and sent it to jack.riepe@gmail.com


Dear Mr. Riepe:

I hope the BMW rally was kind to you and you survived in living colour. I would have made it to the rally this year, as it was really quite close; but my other commitments were just a bitch, especially when you plan like I do, which is much the same as a dog... Yell "Squirrel," and I'm off in another direction. This drives my wife insane.

We made it back from Atlanticade, which was quite a caper. It's the first time that our group ever had the Mounties pay us a visit: eight of them no less, plus a twenty-year-old security guard who had obviously chosen the wrong career path.

It was close to 11 pm and we were sitting around the fire pits of the gorgeous Fairmont Algonquin Hotel of St. Andrews. Our group was essentially the core sponsors of the rally, which usually dumps about $5 to $8 million (Canadian) into the local economy every year. The average age was about 103, so it wasn’t what I'd call a tawdry affair. The loudest noise may have come from some squeaky hearing aids. However, the hotel’s security guard, who I’m sure had been reared by some religious cult to think that motorcyclists are the Lord's bane, demanded that we leave, mumbling something about a local ordinance, which he could neither recite nor produce.

Above) These are exactly the kind of police who would strike terror in the hearts of BMW "R" Bike-Riding Extremists... It is no coincidence that many BMW "R" bike riders wear these same pants, either out on the road or just relaxing in the garage. Photo from Wikipedia.

Well, getting folks who are quite comfortable and are enjoying the evening to snap to the order of the hotel’s adolescent commando is much like moving Stonehenge three metres east. The general response was, “Fuck off and bring us some more wood… Please.” Even though we offered typical Canadian politeness, the little bastard came back with enough Mounties to perform the R.C.M.P. Battle Charge.

Then things got cute.

My brother, 72, offered a beer to one of the coppers. Alan (one L please), 82, recited a Robert Service poem about the Royal Mounted Police and the shooting of Dan Mcgrew (which was very dramatic). All of the girls wanted to see the ordinance. (One was a golf writer from N.Y.) That's when things generally degraded into a slow motion, good natured brawl. Everyone eventually toddled off, and then I’m pretty sure the Mounties then beat the shit out of the security guard and the hotel manager, just on principle.

That was one day before I hit the deer.

I rather enjoy deer, from a distance. I’ve clobbered my fair share, but never before on a bike. My wife was riding her 650 GS and like a good person, was behind me by about three miles. I was noodling along at about 50 mph when this monster reached out and touched me. I was riding my Teutonic Pig, an 07’ 1200 GS Adventure, which at the time was wearing full knobs — which I didn’t think would offer me the kind of braking power they did. (I must send Metzler a thank you note.) I nailed every bit of brake that I had, with the anti-locks kicking in, and I was able to move about three inches to the left, which I’m sure saved my bacon. The upper crash bar impacted with the doe’s hind leg, and according to my wife, sent it into quite the speed wobble. The bike took a major shudder, but everything remained upright. I coasted over to the side of the road, trying to get my heart rate down to below 4000 rpm. I was actually more worried about my wife. Where there’s one deer, there’s usually three. So I was watching the rear views hoping that no more furry things charged out of the ditch.

Above) Stuart Seaton, columnist for Motorcycle Mojo Magazine (Canada), and deer sushi chef.

Total damage: zip, zero, nada, with the exception that my right side was covered in deer snot. Well, I think it was snot. I wasn’t really taking a running account out of what orifice was spewing what. It was a good plastering though. By the time I hit the border it had hardened into some sort of science project and is now ensconced within the fabric of my Motorrad pants. It’s probably liquid deer pheromone that will forever attract coyotes, wolves and other unwanted beasts. I noticed that it made my old Labrador positively curious, which I thought interesting as she’s so old that she barks in sign language.

All in all, t’was a fun trip. Hope yours was as fun (minus deer snot and cops).

Cheers!
Stu

©Copyright Stuart Seaton 2011

27 comments:

Cantwell said...

Well written account of a true Canadian encounter with the Mounties AND giant woods rats. Can't beat that with a cruller.

Cheers,
Michael

ADK said...

A couple of yrs ago I was skipping along on the VFR, on a cold and sleety evening, at about 60mph. I saw something odd out of the corner of my left eye in the drainage ditch. A brown something or other about 2ft high. A millisecond later this thing reared up to its full 4 1/2 foot height, and ran full tilt into my left knee. Unbelievably the bike barely moved. A glance in the rearview showed a deer cartwheeling in the middle of the road, and a moment after that all the fires of hell lit off in my leg. I didn't dare stop the bike, my thought being that if the knee was badly damaged, I'd never get started again and be stranded 80 mles from home. I literally screamed, cried and sweated the rest of the ride back.

2 hrs later, (Yes, Dear Reader, it was a slooooow ride home), I stripped off my riding gear and inspected the damage. Through a pair of armoured riding pants, a pair of Levi's and a pair of long underwear, I'd managed to get my very first tattoo - a perfect rendition of a deers nose imprinted on the outside of my knee. That thing hurt like a MFK'r for about 2 weeks.

I wear 2ft long spikes on the L side now - I figure I'm taking the next little bastard w/ me.

BMW-Dick said...

Dear Jack:
This is your best column yet! No waving dick...no Harley riders...no topless women...just a real life motorcycle adventure with deer shit and a pounding heart. I loved it.

Charlie6 said...

I like the man's writing style!

Re his commenting on his GS as being a "teutonic pig".....so true and yet such attractive steeds.

dom


Redleg's Rides

Colorado Motorcycle Travel Examiner

bobskoot said...

Jack;

as Dom mentioned, I like Stuarts relaxed writing style. Honest m/c content from a rider who rode to the rally

bob
Riding the Wet Coast

Brady said...

Good read. Is this what you need to do to get a copy of your book? I raced a Harley in front of some cops last week and came out unscathed, is that good enough?

Brady
Behind Bars - Motorcycles and Life
http://www.behindbarsmotorcycle.com/

Dan M. said...

Ahhhh...deer snot...or something.

I like my teutonic pig. Mine's the regular 1150GS, the Adventure GS for short people ("who have no reason to live..."

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Mike:

What were you guys expecting? Any old shit on the pages of Twisted Roads? It's not often I reach out to a guest author... But when I do, I try and find one who isn't celebrating his first day at the keyboard.

Stu Seaton Seaton's piece had all the qualifying aspects of a great motorcycle story:
a) Women (even if the reference was to a golf-playing sort)
b) A rousing altercation with the cops, even if they appear to be characters in a bad musical.
c) Guys talking about "old" times, which considering their average age, might have been the Civil War.
d) Total disdain for authority, the authorities being a douche of a hotel manager and a security guard, who should have had his pants pulled down and his ass painted blue and white.
e) A deer, subject to the rolling meat packing process.

What more could anyone ask for?

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear ADK (Chris Wolfe):

Forgive me if I regard this tale with a bit of skepticism. For one thing, I lived in the Adirondacks for 18 years and hunted deer through most of them. You had to hire a private investigaor, bait with corn, and show "stag" movies to even find the odd track up there.

Now, if you want to change the story to read a 2.5 foot tall shape reared up on the shoulder, before materializing into a grouse, which then attacked your piss-yellow motorcycle, then I can start to believe it.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Bregstein:

Do I detect a note of deep regret that you have not been the target of a Twisted Roads piece lately? That is easily remedied... Let me speak with Peter Frechie. I think we've got something in the can. Your can, to be exact.

Glad you liked the guest editor's piece today.

Fondest regards,
Jack/Reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Charlie 6 (Dom):

Twisted Roads is committed to publishing the very best in motorcycle adventure, and this story certainly qualifed as a great candidate. Then again, Stuart Seaton is a well-known name and has been at this for years.

I'm delighted you liked the story. Mention us to your friends.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

ADK said...

Honestly, I suspend anything even remotely approaching belief everytime I read this blog, and this is the thanks I get.

It's not my fault if you can't track a trail of piss down your pants leg.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Bobskoot:

You were in my prayers this morning... I closed my eyes and said, "Dear Lord, please allow me to share more of my life with others... Specifically, I'd like to share 48 hours of this arthritis pain in both knees and both hips with my friend Bob Leong, who stopped riding for two weeks when he developed a mild case of plantar fasciitis..."

How are you feeling today?

For the first time in months (it seems) the temperatures outside are a mild mid-80's, and I am going to ride my bike tomorrow. I know the first two hours will be sheer agony. But there can be no triumph without a little pain.

Hopefully, next summer will see a riding season that is trailer-free.

I'll keep you posted.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Brady:

Did the cops shoot at you? Did you continue your ride under a hail of lead? Did you stop when some sweet thing lifted up her shirt for you? The right answers to these questions will get you a book.

I envy your life on the road.

Thanks for reading Twisted Roads.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear ADK (Chris):

I have made a number of factual alterations in your story... It will run soon.

Fondest regard,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Dan:

The innate good looks of the GS bike is rivaled only by the utter sexiness of the K75. Both are an acquired taste.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep
Twisted Roads

Allen Madding said...

Stuart-
Excellent article. I suggest the next time you have a run in with the mounties, that you break into a rousing Monty Python tune:
"I'm a lumberjack and I'm ok. I sleep all night and I work all day....". Although an all out brawl is always a good option.

reep- excellent guest writer and no harley rider digs. nice!

-Peace

Nikos said...

I wonder if the Mountie on right is a lumberjack in his spare time.

"I'm a Lumberejack and I'm alright"

Steve Williams said...

I never read all the italic stuff at the beginning much like I never read the foreward in a book. As I'm reading I'm saying to myself this is one of the best things Riepe has ever written.

After I finished I realized that it wasn't the best thing Riepe had ever written.

Great story none the less. Those mounties should have fined those troublesome geezers, coots and curmudgeons. They may look cute and slow but they're trouble.

Brady said...

Jack,

There was a barrage of gunfire, but only the guys on the Harley were killed. The Connie accelerates too fast to be tracked in the gun sights of an average human, (Seal Team Six notwithstanding.) You run a greater risk or crashing into the side of a bullet mid-flight when riding something as fast as the C1400.

There were no topless girls, however. The antics of the evening did not have the anticipated aphrodisiac effect desired. I almost wound up alone on the extra queen bed at the hotel. Plus, the hotel did NOT have HBO as promised, and I missed my late, Saturday night programming.

Brady
Behind Bars - Motorcycles and Life
http://www.behindbarsmotorcycle.com/

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Mr. Madding:

We here at Twisted Roads know a good story when we see one. Stuart Seaton is a name that opens all kinds of editorial doors in Canada... And now his name is on walls in RMCP offices all across the Great White North too.

I am thrilled to number Mr. Seaton — another BMW rider, I might add — among Twisted Roads devotees. And I love Harley Riders. BMW "R" bike riders are targeted a lot more often in this venue than the chorome and leather crowd.

Thank you for reading Twisted Roads, and for commenting, at least as often as your Harley starts.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Nikos:

The first time I saw this picture I thought the doormen at frontier hotels in Canada were armed. I think "Mounties" are cool. Have you ever seen Lee Marvin and Charles Bronson in "Death Hunt?" Lee Marvin plays one tough and savage Mountie.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Steve Williams (Scooter In The Sticks):

I am delighted to know that the editorial diversity of Twisted Roads only improves in your sophisticated opinion. We here at TW routinely throw the dice in introducing great writers to readers who demand the best in raw motorcycle adventure and romance like broken glass.

The name of Stuart Seaton is a household word in Canada, and I am thrilled to introduce him as a colleague and as a guest editor on Twisted Roads. As a GS rider, he is among those who can rocket through a curve, while shoveling coal to keep up steam pressure. He has my undying respect and admiration, even though my bike has a proper cooling system.

Fondest regards,
Your pal,
Jack

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Brady:

Your devotion to the Kawsaki marque is both touching and understandable. My first bike was also a Kawaski, and it got me laid a lot. Of course, now that I ride a BMW it's no longer necessary to get the women drunk and tell them I am Jim Morrison. (I have read about guys who have run into their own bullets, when fired from a K1300GT, running at 75% power.

Despite the searing logic that absolutely nothing you could say or do would have any influence on the HD rider who got your goat... Wouldn't it have been swell to have pulled up next to this guy, with the stealth of a stilleto at midnight, have some dolly on the back lift up her shirt at the guy, then shift it into "fourth" before disappearing in the scream of enraged pistons.

Yes, Brady, all men all think alike.

But topless women are like gold... They are where you least expect to find them. And when the exhaust clears, we find ourselves in the glaring assessment of disapproving women, who never quite erase the whole slate.

For this reason, you should always carry your laptop, complete with decent compliment of good skin flicks. It could have given you the satisfaction of break.ing the chill in the bedroom by saying, "This may take the sting out of a 24-hour hardon." Women love to hear stuff like this. Trust me.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep

Brady said...

Jack,

Unfortunately my laptop is new. I've yet to have the opportunity to get boner flicks. Though, I'm pretty set, unless the internet is slow. I'm having problems flashing people the screen while driving, it's very difficult to impress some bacon-hat with anything on a computer screen.

Brady
Behind Bars - Motorcycles and Life

Jack Riepe said...

Dear Brady:

Butr it's important that you make the effort.

Fondest regards,
Jack

BeemerGirl said...

Ya know...it's really difficult to lift up my shirt, and my riding jacket, and keep a grip on the throttle to get ahead of the action. What is a girl to do in that situation??

-Steel Cupcake