Midlife Motorcycle Madness $25.00 J&P Cycles Gift Card Contest

Midlife Motorcycle Madness has teamed up with J&P Cycles to bring it's readers a $25.00 Gift Card Contest.

Caption this photo and get a chance to win a $25.00 Gift Card from J&P Cycles:

Contest time frame: June 1-8, 2011

Prizes: J&P Cycles will provide a $25 gift card for the winner.

Contest Rules and Regulations:

Contestants enter to win by leaving a comment captioning the provided photo and then stating what they will buy to upgrade their bike with using the $25.00 gift card. You may make the comment as short or as long as needed. All entries will be judged by me on humor, wittiness and creativity. After the contest ends I will read and judge all entries and post the winner. The winner can email me their contact information to provide to J&P Cycles. J&P Cycles will issue the $25.00 Gift Card to the Winner.

Remember, it is a two part entry comment, the photo caption and what the $25.00 gift card will be used for.

Be sure & support our sponsor by shopping at J&P Cycles:

J&P Cycles

Harley Parts

Ride on & Good Luck!
Torch

Chuck Norris 03 Kawasaki 636 ZX6-R?

Chuck Norris 03 Kawasaki 636 ZX6-R?

My son ran across this add on Craigslist & I really enjoyed reading it. So, I have reprinted here, unedited except for the #'s etc.  for your reading pleasure:

Chuck Norris 03 Kawasaki 636 ZX6-R - $4800 (dallas)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Date: 2010-03-15, 4:58PM CDT
Reply to: sale-y49mk-XXXXX@craigslist.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
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OK, let me start off by saying this Kawasaki ZX6-R is only available for purchase by the manliest of men (or women). My friend, if it was possible for a bike to sprout chest hair and a five o'clock shadow, this Kawi would look like Tom Selleck. It is just that sexy.

It was never intended to drive to the Galleria mall so you can pick up that adorable shirt at Abercrombie & Fitch that you had your eye on. It wasn't meant to transport you to yoga class or Bath & Body Works. No, that's what your vespa is for. If that's the kind of “bike” you're looking for, then just do us all a favor and stop reading right now. I mean it. Just stop.

This sex-machine was engineered by 3rd degree ninja super-warriors in the highest mountains of Japan to serve the needs of the man that cheats death on a daily basis. They didn't even consider superfluous, nancy-boy amenities like navigation systems (real men don't get lost), heated leather seats (a realman doesn't let anything warm his butt), or On Star (real men don't even know what the hell On Star is).

No, this brute comes with the things us testosterone-fueled super action junkies need. It has a 636cc engine to outrun the cops. It's got specialblood/gore resistant upholstery. It even has a first-aid kit in the back. You know what the first aid kit has in it? A pint of whiskey, a stitch-your-own-wound kit, and a hunk of leather to bite down on when you're operating on yourself. The Kawi also has 5 gears so if you're being chased by Taliban-terrorists, you can outrun them with a gun strapped to your back and shoot them at high-speed intervals. It's saved my bacon more than once.

It has room for you and the hottie you picked up on the way to the gym to blast your pecs and hammer your glutes. I also just put in a brand new stator to replace the malfunctioning one from The Man(ufacturers) that sucked.


My price on this bad boy is an incredibly low $4,800 but I'll entertain reasonable offers. And by reasonable, I mean don't walk up and tell me


you'll give me $2,000 for it. That's liable to earn you a Burmese-roundhouse-sphincter-kick with a follow up three fingered eye-jab. Would it hurt?


Hell yeah. Let's just say you won't be the prettiest guy at the Coldplay concert anymore.

There's only 17,000 miles on this two-wheeled hellcat from Planet Kickass. It is in pristine condition, not a scratch on this monster. Trust me, it will outlive you and the offspring that will carry yourname. It will live on as a monument to your machismo.

Now, go look in the mirror and tell me what you see. If it's a rugged, no holds barred, super brute he-man macho Chuck Norris stunt double, then contact me. I might be out hang-gliding or BASE jumping or just chilling with my homes, but I'll get back to you. And when I do, we'll talk about a


price over a nice glass of Schmidt while we listen to Led Zeppelin.

To sweeten the deal a little, I'm throwing in this pair of MC Hammer pants for the man with rippling quads that can't fit into regular pants. Yeah,


you heard me. FREE MC Hammer pants.

Rock on.

shoot me a text if you fit the description of someone who can handle sex on wheels,


214 772 XXXX


ace

•Location: dallas


•it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests
 
 
 
Here is the link: http://dallas.craigslist.org/dal/mcy/1645662880.html
 
I emailed ace and he never replied. I got several laughs while reading this and Twittered the link but I thought I would repost it here for your reading pleasure.
 
Ride on,
Torch

Embarrassing Moments in Riding

Embarrassing Moments in Riding

I have had many embarrassing moments as a motorcycle rider when I hoped and prayed no one was watching. I’ve only been riding for a year and a half or so now and at times I still feel like a bull in a china store on two wheels, with a blindfold on. Here for your entertainment and pleasure, in no particular order is a list of some the stupider things I’ve done. Kids, please don’t try these at home.

I have managed to walk in the house with my helmet still on, looking like an astronaut walking on the moon, a couple of times, not on purpose. Duh!

I’ve leaned over forgetting my helmet was on with the extra clearance needed, and banged it on things, so much for keeping it in pristine condition. Is klutziness inherited or communicable?

I’ve knocked my helmet off the bike onto the cement scuffing it up. Permanent marks don’t you know and I’m still looking for decals to cover them up.

Almost looking like a cheap fake bake, I have gotten sunburned on my face, ears and hands from not wearing sunscreen on a long bike ride. I now carry a bottle in my saddlebag, thank you.

I’ve been caught in the rain and my clear riding glasses smeared with road grime when I tried to wipe them off with my gloves so bad I could not see out them any more. I finished riding home looking over the top of the glasses. I learned my lesson and will no longer attempt to wipe them once it starts to rain; it’s hard to ride by sense of smell and sound.

I rode off from work half cocked once without strapping my half helmet on and had to pull over off the access road, remove my gloves and fasten it on. Boy did I feel like an idiot. Maybe I am?

I’ve driven off haphazardly several times forgetting to put my eye protection on. My windshield does not block everything from hitting my face, that’s for sure.

I found out that new leather boots are not waterproof and need to be sprayed down with something to waterproof them. Then I found out that you have to reapply the water proofer periodically ever few months or the boots will loose their waterproofness.

One time I neglected to buckle my saddlebag just closing the lid and wound up loosing a good pair of clear riding glasses on my way to a bike night. That’s just brilliant, huh?

Not long after getting the bike I almost dropped it the first or second time I pulled out of my driveway on my way to practice riding at a nearby parking lot. I ended up with a black and blue bruised up and soar leg from that one. OK, so Evil Knievel I’m not.

I completely lost one whole saddlebag while riding home once when I was exiting the freeway. I felt like a two inch tall moron in leather pulling over to walk back and get it. At least I can still use the damaged bag, go figure.

I stalled the engine once like a teenager learning how to drive a standard transmission, after coming to a stop to make a left hand turn into my neighborhood. I think I was too distracted by the cager coming up fast on my six.

One really freezing cold day I got stuck in traffic on the freeway while on the way home from work and the motor was not warmed up enough with the enrichment lever (choke) turned off and it stalled while I was in the fast lane when I came to a stop and I had to pull over to the left shoulder to restart the bike, and I call myself a commuter, geesh.

On at least two occasions I have gone to put the kickstand down and my foot lost grip and slipped leaving my leg above my ankle with a nice scrape down it. I must confess that I may not have been wearing the proper riding foot gear at the time which may have contributed to my pain. What does ATGAT stand for again?

Believe it or not, plastic melts on hot engine. I found that out one day when I left the end cover of my battery tender connector loose and it laid a little too close to the rear cylinder head. It also makes a strange burning odor when this happens.

Several times I’ve had to make the biker “Ya, I’m Cool” move putting my left foot up on the floorboard, while checking to make sure the bikes in first gear. Yes, I’m so cool I’m downright cold.

I have accidently taken off from stops in second or third gear, having forgotten to down shift when coming to the stop. That’s a real impressive look taking off lugging the poor little V-Twin down slowly gaining speed like a trolling motor pulling a forty foot yacht. What was I thinking, or, maybe not?

Every now and then I still hit neutral instead of first or second up-shifting or downshifting. Some times I hit it several times in a row for effect. Yes, that was me revving up the engine and not going any where fast.

One cold but blindingly bright day I put down the internal smoke colored visor inside of my full face helmet as I drove off from work. It immediately fogged up so I could not see, and I was in traffic. Feeling like Stevie Wonder on two wheels, I attempted to put it up but could not feel the lever with my winter riding gloves on, so I opened the face shield and popped it back up. Then when the regular shield started fogging I tried to open the shield and could not open it. When I got home I found that I had accidently locked the visor down tight like a chastity belt when I attempted to put the inner visor up. At least I had not permanently broken something.

Once, like a football player in his first ballet class, I was turning into my neighborhood and had not slowed down enough, so I swung way too wide, and headed for the right curb like a bird spotting a new clean car. Target fixation had kicked in but I managed to lean her so far enough over I scraped the left floorboard with a jolt. I still managed to slightly scrape the right curb with the other floorboard and I almost dropped her. I’m sure the people in the neighborhood watching were probably wondering what the heck I was doing. Just think of all the sparks if it would have been darker.

I hope you got some laughs on my behalf, and maybe, just maybe, picked up a tip or two so as not to replicate any of my stupid antics. Please feel free to share some of your own; it’s a lot easier now that I got rid of that other comment program.

Ride on,
Torch

To Wave or Not to Wave?

To Wave or Not to Wave?

To Wave or Not to Wave? The debate rages on. This question has been showing up on blogs, forums and magazines for a long time and has been popping up again here and there lately. This is the funniest read on waving I have personally run across and shamelessly stolen from the b.a.r.f. website. I searched for the original by the author and could not locate it. Seriously, take your time and read it through. It is well worth your time reading:

To Wave or Not to Wave

By Shalom Auslander

I love motorcycles, and I love riding. Like many of you, what first drew me to bikes was not just the experience of riding, but the feeling that I'd become part of a special community—a brotherhood, really. Nothing calms me more than a long ride down the interstate, waving to the members of my beloved clan. Except when I pass Harley guys. I hate Harley guys. Hate, hate, hate. When they pass me on the highway, you know what I do? I don't wave. With their little tassle handlebars and the studded luggage and the half-helmets—God, they drive me crazy.

You know who else I hate? BMW guys. Oh, I do hate those guys. I don't wave at them, either. They think they're so great, sitting all upright, with their 180-degree German engines. God, I hate them. They're almost as bad as those old bastards on their touring motorcycles. You know what I call those bikes? "Two-wheeled couches!" Get it? Because they're so big. They drive around like they've got all day. Appreciate the scenery somewhere else, Grampa, and while you're at it, I'm not waving to you.

Ducati guys—I don't wave at them either. Why don't they spend a little more money on their bikes? "You can have it in any color you want, as long as it's red." Aren't you cool! Like they even know what a desmo-whatever engine is, anyway. Try finding the battery, you Italian-wannabe racers! I never, ever wave at those guys.

Suzuki guys aren't much better, which is why I never wave at them, either. They always have those stupid helmets sitting on top of their stupid heads, and God forbid they should wear any safety gear. They make me so mad. Sometimes they'll speed by and look over at me and you know what I do? I don't wave. I just keep on going. Please, don't get me started on Kawasaki guys. Ninjas? What are you, twelve years old? Team Green my ass. I never wave at Kawasaki guys.

I ride a Honda, and I'll only wave at Honda guys, but even then, I'll never wave at a guy in full leathers. Never, never, never. Yeah, like you're going to get your knee down on the New York Thruway. Nice crotch, by the way. Guys in full leathers will never get a wave from me, and by the way, neither will the guys in two-piece leathers. And I'll tell you who else I'm not waving at—those guys with the helmets with the loud paintjobs. Four pounds of paint on a two pound helmet–like I'm going to wave back to that! I'll also never wave at someone with a mirrored visor. Or helmet stickers. Or racing gloves. Or hiking boots.

To me, motorcycling is a like a family, a close-knit brotherhood of people who ride Hondas, wear jeans and a leather jacket (not Vanson) with regular gloves and a solid-color helmet with a clear visor, no stickers, no racing gloves and regular boots (not Timberlands). And isn't that what really makes riding so special?

I hope you got a chuckle out of that, I sure did. Here is what I think he is saying. If we don’t wave because of every little thing about someone we don’t like; we will never wave at anyone. As for me, I will wave or acknowledge everyone on two wheels I see in time, as long as it is safe to do so.

Ride on,

Torch

Kick Stand Down Blues

Kick Stand Down Blues

By Torch 2010

(To the tune of Born Under a Bad Sign)

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

Three inches of snow & ice on the drive

Keeps my baby all locked up inside

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

I've installed all the chrome an’ polished it bright

I’ll be dreamin’ ‘bout her tonight

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

Done all the maintenance an’ Mods I could

Installed fuel stabilizer in the tank just for good

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

Rubbed her down with a nice coat of wax

She’s so much sexier than a Cadillac

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

I’ve read all the Forums and all of the Blogs

She’s just waitin’ for me to blow out the cogs

Got the Kick Stand Down Blues

Ain’t been able to ride since late Fall

If it wasn’t for Spring an’ Summer time

I’d get no ridin’ time in at all

But, Just as sure as the Rapture Day

Ha, Spring is on it’s way…

Ride on,
Torch

HOGWASH Review

HOGWASH Review

No, HOGWASH is not some expensive Corinthian Leather scented soap to clean your bike with. HOGWASH is a book by the multi-talented, “Only Wanna Do What’s Right”, Bryan Duncan. It is also beautifully illustrated by David Eden. Obviously, Bryan now suffers from Midlife Motorcycle Madness, and has decided to write a light hearted book about his experiences and gleanings. In HOGWASH, Bryan takes a humorous look at the biker scene. It is a short 95 page, easy to read book that anyone who has ridden on two wheels should read and leave out on the coffee table, (just move those motorcycle parts over a little).

Bryan leaves no sacred stone unturned and pokes fun at all aspects of biker life and motorcycle riding in general. Subjects touched upon include; “Stuff You Won’t Find at the Harley Dealer”, “Signs Yer Too Fat for a FATBOY”, and “Why Bikers Have Tattoos”. All the short quips will keep you chuckling through the whole book.

He goes on to discus subjects like, “How to Recognize a Biker Church” and “How a Biker Makes Sense of the Bible”. Bryan touches on the humorous side of religion with no preaching, just food for thought. Jesus rides a Road King? Laughter truly is good medicine for the heart.

From the back cover of the book:


ONE BIKER’S SARCASTIC OBSERVATIONS OF MOTORCYCLE MADNESS


What happens when you buy this book!:


• It’ll improve your looks
• You’ll feel younger
• Chicks will dig you
• Yer personality will blossom
• You’ll become more prosperous
• Hair will grow on yer bald spots


With promises like that how could you refuse to read it? I can vouch that my looks have already improved since reading it! (A smile truly will increase your face value). Next, I need to get one of Jack Riepe's Twisted Roads Tees.


HOGWASH is a very funny and entertaining book. Moose’s (David Eden’s) illustrations are all real cute and entertaining in there own right. Bryan Duncan’s HOGWASH is like chicken soup for the bikers’ soul. I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and everyone who rides can relate to the humor. HOGWASH is a great book and it will last for many smiles.

Torch gives Bryan Duncan’s HOGWASH an M.M.M Rating of 10 on a scale of 1-10. So, “Have Yourself Committed” and order your copy of HOGWASH today and remember, “Ride Smilin’… It Makes People Nervous”.


Ride on,
Torch

Twas the Night Before Christmas

Twas the Night Before Christmas

For Bikers

Author Unknown

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the pad,

There was nada happenin', now thats pretty bad.

The woodstove was hung up in that stocking routine,

In hopes that the Fat Boy would soon make the scene.

With our stomachs packed with tacos and beer,

My girl and I crashed on the couch for some cheer.

When out in the yard there arose such a racket,

I ran for the door and pulled on my jacket.

I saw a large bro' on a '56 Pan

Wearin' black leathers, a cap, and boots (cool biker, man).

He hauled up the bars on that bikeful of sacks,

And that Pan hit the roof like it was running on tracks.

I couldn't help gawking, the old guy had class.

But I had to go in -- I was freezing my ass.

Down through the stovepipe he fell with a crash,

And out of the stove he came dragging his stash.

With a smile and some glee he passed out the loot,

A new jacket for her and some parts for my scoot.

He patted her fanny and shook my right hand,

Spun on his heel and up the stovepipe he ran.

From up on the roof came a great deal of thunder,

As that massive V-twin ripped the silence asunder.

With beard in the wind, he roared off in the night,

Shouting, "Have a cool Yule, and to all a good ride!"

 
Ride on,
Torch

Turns out I’m Just a Poser

Turns out I’m Just a Poser....


Ran across this chart on the internet, and I came to the realization that I’m not a 1%’er, a Biker, a Chopper Rider, or a Motorcyclist, I’m Just a “Poser”.

The Urban Dictionary describes Posers as:

“A poser is someone who tries to fit into a profile they aren't. People who try to give off the impression that they are one thing when they are really another.

Also, a poser can be one who says they can do something that they can't….”

Here are the reasons why I’m just a “Poser”:

1. I don’t ride a Chopper I ride a Cruiser.

2. I don’t ride a Harley Davidson; I ride a Yamaha V-Star 1100 Classic.

3. I wear a helmet, (a half helmet anyway).

4. I occasionally wear a Dew Rag my daughter gave me as a gift, or the ones my mother-in-law picked up for me to keep my hair in line and sweat out of my eyes while I ride.

5. My cell phone is a Palm Treo running MS Windows Mobile.

6. I wear my inexpensive Timex Ironman watch on my commute to and from work.

7. I wear an oversized FMC Leather Jacket when the weather warrants it and an OSI Cool Mesh Jacket in summer.

8. I don’t carry a check book and my wallet is usually empty.

9. I tend to shy away from designer clothes, but I love my black Guinness T-Shirt.

10. I don’t currently own a biker wallet but I am looking for one that I could take the chain on and off for when I’m at work.

11. My bike is not a Garage Queen, but only gets ridden at least five days a week and is usually parked out in the elements all day at work.

12. I have to ride to work in dress slacks and other times I like my black Wranglers.

13. I wear oversized Street & Steel Leather Chaps when the weather warrants.

14. I wear my Harley, or my Bates boots to ride in.

15. I work on my own bike.

16. I wear Oakley Sunglasses my sister-in-law gave me for Christmas many years ago or some inexpensive clear motorcycle glasses at night.

17. I have a Guardian Angel Bell hanging off the bottom of my motorcycle that my daughter gave me.

18. I enjoy reading about motorcycling.

19. I like motorcycle racing.

20. I publish a blog about motorcycles and motorcycling.

21. I tweet about motorcycling, Torch762.

22. I don’t belong to a Motorcycle Club.

23. I like other folks that ride other brands and classes of two wheeled transportation.

24. I have not been riding since birth.


So, despite that I ride more days than not, and even in the rain, (they think I’m crazy at work), I am just a “Poser” after all. I think I’ll keep on riding, enjoying the experience, and just be myself.


Ride on,
Torch

Riding a motorcycle is like the love of a great woman....

“Riding a motorcycle is like the love of a great woman, sometimes it’s hard to hold on, but all the excitement is darn well worth it!” – Torch ©2009.

Interpret it how you want to.

Ride on,
Torch

A Few Things I’ve learned about Motorcycling

Image by GmanViz via Flickr

I have compiled a list of a few things I’ve learned while commuting back and forth to work and taking several longer trips in the short amount of time I have been riding. Not in any particular order;

Gasoline fueled V-Twin motorcycles will not run without gas.

Even light sprinkles of rain sting bare skin at 80 mph.

If you don’t know where your horn button is you might hit your high beam switch instead.

On a 40 degree day the wind chill at 80 mph makes it feel like 23 degrees.

Metal storm grates are slick as ice when they are wet.

If you forget to turn your fuel cut off back on your bike will stall about two blocks from your house.

Non-waterproof shoes, your socks, and feet will be completely soaked after riding in the rain even with a rain suit on.

Yes, motorcycles do make you invisible.

It is not safe to talk on a cell phone while riding, (no Bluetooth).

Even if a cage drivers does see you they do not consider you a large enough threat and will still pull into your lane running you off the road.

Most cage drivers do not look before changing lanes.

The loudest decibel horn cannot be heard inside a closed cage with the radio on.

You cannot trust gas station nozzle pumps to stop in time.

At night in a hard rain with clear ridding glasses on you cannot see the lines on the freeway.

When passing or being passed by large trucks in the rain you cannot see anything for a few seconds.

Goggles are better than glasses on a windy day.

If you do not secure your saddlebag lid down you will loose things while riding.

If you think there is a chance of rain and put on your rain suit it will not rain.

If you think there is a chance of rain and do not put your rain suit on it will rain.

In winter without proper gloves your hands will get cold and stiff even on a short ride.

Animals will run out in front of you at the most inopportune time.

You will not notice that your mirrors are not aimed properly until you are already underway.

Unless you have ABS your brakes can and will lock up when pushed hard enough.

It is a lot harder to stabilize a motorcycle at a stop riding two up.

You can get sunburned just as easily riding a motorcycle as not.

People give you strange looks when you are wearing leathers.

It is hard to get things out of your front pockets wearing chaps.

No matter how long you sit at some stop lights on a bike they just won’t turn green.

The more chrome you have the longer it takes to clean your bike.

No matter how fast you are riding there is always another motorcycle going faster.

Not everyone on two wheels waves back.

Even other motorcyclists think you are crazy when you ride all the time.

Parts of your motorcycle will vibrate loose and sometimes you may loose parts of your bike while riding.

Different parts of your body can get tired and sore on long rides.

A leg cramp while riding a bike is a pain in the rear.

Aside from shaving your head there is no sure cure for helmet hair.

Don't ask me how I know....

Ride on,
Torch

Tips for Riding in Dallas, Texas

Image via Wikipedia

Tips for Riding in Dallas, Texas

First you must learn to pronounce the city name. It is DAL-LUS, or DAA-LIS depending on if you live inside or outside LBJ Freeway.

Next, if your Mapsco is more than a few weeks old, throw it out and buy a new one. If in Denton County and your Mapsco is one-day-old, then it is already obsolete. Forget the traffic rules you learned elsewhere. (Frisco has screwed everything up.)

Dallas has its own version of traffic rules... "Hold on and pray." There is no such thing as a dangerous high-speed chase in Dallas. We all drive like that.

All directions start with, "Get on Beltline," which has no beginning and no end. (It REALLY DOESN'T!!!)

The morning rush hour is from 6 to 10. The evening rush hour is from 3 to 7. Friday's rush hour starts Thursday morning.

If you actually stop at a yellow light, you will be rear-ended, cussed out and possibly shot. When you are the first one on the starting line, count to five when the light turns green before going to avoid crashing with all the drivers running the red light in cross-traffic.

Construction on Central Expressway is a way of life and a permanent form of entertainment. We had sooo much fun with that; we have added George Bush Freeway and the High Five to the mix.

All unexplained sights are explained by the phrase, "Oh, we're in Fort Worth!"

If someone actually has his or her turn signal on, it is probably a factory defect. Car horns are actually "Road Rage" indicators - and remember, it's legal to be armed in Texas ...

All old ladies with blue hair in a Mercedes have the right of way. Period. And remember, it's legal to be armed in Texas ...

Inwood Road, Plano Road, NW Highway, East Grand, Garland Road, Marsh Lane, Josey Lane, 15th Street, Preston Road all mysteriously change names as you cross intersections (these are only a FEW examples). The perfect example is what is MOSTLY known as Plano Road . On the south end, it is known as Lake Highlands Drive, cross Northwest Highway and it becomes Plano Road, go about 8 miles and it is briefly Greenville Ave, Ave K, and Highway 5. It ends in Sherman ...

The North Dallas Tollway is our daily version of NASCAR. The minimum acceptable speed on the Dallas North Toll Road is 85 mph, anything less is considered downright sissy. It also ends in Sherman.

If asking directions in Irving or SE Dallas, you must have knowledge of Spanish. If in central Richardson or on Harry Hines, Mandarin Chinese will be your best bet. If you stop to ask directions on Gaston or Live Oak, you better be armed... and remember, it's legal to be armed in Texas

The wrought iron on windows near Oak Cliff and Fair Park is not ornamental!!

A trip across town east to west will take a minimum of four hours, although many north/south freeways have un-posted minimum speeds of 75.

It is possible to be driving WEST in the NORTH-bound lane of EAST NORTHWEST Highway. Don't let this confuse you.

LBJ is called "The Death Trap" for two reasons: "death" and "trap."

If it's 100 degrees, Thanksgiving must be next weekend. If it's 10 degrees and sleeting/snowing, the Fort Worth Stock Show is going on. If it has rained 6 inches in the last hour, the Byron Nelson Golf Classic is in the second round (if it's Spring) - and it is the Texas State Fair if it's Fall.
If you go to the Fair, pay the $8.00 to park INSIDE Fair Park . Parking elsewhere could cost up to $2500 for damages, towing fees, parking tickets, and possibly a gunshot wound. If some guy with a flag tries to get you to park in his yard, run over him.

Any amusement parks, stadiums, arenas, racetracks, airports, etc., are conveniently located as far away from EVERYTHING as possible so as to allow for ample parking on grassy areas.

Final Warning: Don't Mess With Texas Drivers ... remember, it's legal to Be armed in Texas

Ride on,
Torch

Note: I shamelessly stole this off an email, finding it so funny and true. Plus, the fact that I commute daily here, I just had to pass it on.

What to Do When You Can’t Ride?

Image via Wikipedia

What to Do When You Can’t Ride?

There are a lot of reasons why you may not be able to go riding on your motorcycle. A few things that may stand in your way are, work, health, financial, weather, equipment, and To-Do Lists. Of course, none of them are good reasons not to ride. Here is a short list of suggestions of things that you can do that are motorcycle related when you cannot get out on the open road:

Wash your bike

Catch up on your biker forum dejour

Perform routine maintenance on your bike

Go shopping for motorcycle equipment or paraphernalia

Read a good book about motorcycling

Read some good motorcycle blogs

Watch motorcycle shows on TV, the Internet, or DVD

Catch up on the latest motorcycle news

Perform modifications on your ride

Check in on your Twitter friends

Install accessories on your bike

Join a motorcycle organization

Read a good motorcycle magazine

Browse or buy some motorcycle art

Plan your next trip or long ride

Go shopping for more motorcycle accessories

If you are a blogger, update your blog


You get the idea. Now I’ve got to get to work on my new header….

Ride on,
Torch

Song of the Rolling Sirens

Song of the Rolling Sirens

It was a dark spring morning and a blanket of ominous clouds hovered low in the sky making the air thick with humidity. I started the V-Star and her 1063 cc’s of v-twin power roared to life as I hit the garage door opener button to close the garage. It was 6:00 am and I was hoping my neighbors did not hate me and my Cobra exhaust as I turned out of the driveway and started on my commute to work.

Passing the local Waffle house on my way to the freeway the odors of waffles, eggs, sausage, and bacon, beckoned me to stop and eat. I sighed at what was not to be as I approached the light downshifting twice to turn onto the access road to get on the on-ramp to the two lane freeway. Three quarters of the way up the on-ramp my left turn signal was on as I shifted into third. I have decided that this was the most fun part of any ride, the acceleration to get up to speed, after all, there are no laws that limit how fast you can get up to the speed limit.

In no time I’m at the end of this stretch of highway as it makes a graceful right hand turn and merges with another section this time three lanes wide. Tending to run faster than the other traffic I again apply my left turn signal and change lanes twice double checking the lane next to me each time before changing lanes. In the fast lane I pulled in right behind another motorcyclist traveling slightly faster than me possibly on a Harley-Davidson by the sound of the engine.

I sped up a little to keep up with the other motorcyclist. Traffic is usually not too bad this time of the morning as long as you do not get stuck behind a row of vehicles all traveling the same speed so that you cannot get by in the fast lane. Some people will just not change lanes even though slower traffic is supposed keep right. Just about then is when I started to hear the Song.

An eighteen wheeler was in the middle lane and I was passing on the left tracking in the left hand side of my lane. As I drew closer the sound of their Song got louder. I glanced at all those wheels, each one almost half as tall as me. These Sirens are calling to me, luring me to look at them. I try to look away. Mistress, my bike, says, “Watch where we are going.” We were approaching a left hand curve on the highway.

I move lane position to the right side of my lane in preparation of the curve doing the outside, inside, outside track thing like I don’t really know how tight the curve is. This places me right next to the leviathans’ rear trailer wheels. I glance over and the Sirens Song is sweeter, louder, calling me closer as I strain to look away. “Look away, don’t stare at the beast,” I say to myself, probably out loud.

I’m slightly behind the rigs two sets of double tires now and nearing the apex of the curve. The muscles in my legs and arms tighten up and get stiff as the sirens voices start screaming louder at me as I fight to avert my eyes and turn my bike away from our deadly track. All I need to do is pull back slightly on the right handlebar and Mistress will respond leaning left and turning left out of that outer track but I find myself fighting the Sirens hypnotic Song. The Sirens Song is a screaming crescendo now pulling at Mistress and trying to make us crash against the mighty Leviathan.

My pulse has quickened and my breathing has almost stopped as I try to force her to turn left fighting against the handle bars that feel like hard taffy. She does not respond to manhandling and awaits the gentle counter steer command. The bike is at the apex of the curve now and we are sliding slowly closer into the mouth of the deadly Leviathan.

We are being drawn in, pulled by the voices of the alluring Sirens. Then, Mistress’s soothingly soft sultry voice cut through the panic brought about by the Song of the Sirens telling me, “Look away from the beast and look to where you want to go.” This was said not as an order, but in a matter of fact, common sense kind of way.

Nodding in agreement I hear her and obeyed, ignoring the Sirens command I forced my eyes to look away and into the far left track of the lane I’m traveling in. I relax my arms and gently push the left handle bar forward while pulling slightly back on the right. Mistress responds with a purr and immediately leaned left and headed into the left track out of the deadly path of the stampeding Leviathan. I blocked out the compelling Song of the Sirens and speed by the eighteen wheeled monster right as the corner ends.

Breathing once again my pulse starts to slow as I take the exit to get to work. Once at work and calmed down, I had time to reflect on what had just transpired on my normal boring commute. Call it what you want, Target Fixation or the Song of the Siren, your bike will go, maybe subconsciously, where you look. Is Target Fixation just an excuse, a Myth, or an Urban Legend? Having first hand battled it and won, I think not. So, glance at obstacles just long enough to recognize them for what they are and then look back where you want to go. If you don’t, you may succumb to the call of the Sirens, and smash into the very obstacle you are staring at, and trying desperately to avoid.

Ride on,
Torch

Look In the Direction You Are Traveling...

Even If it’s Backing Up!

No, this is not an article about Target Fixation.

So far I have helped teach four of my teenagers how to drive an automobile, and only have two more to go. I do have some hair left, but it is rapidly graying. One of the first things I try to drill in their impenetrable, all knowing heads, is to always look where you are going, especially when backing up. They always seem to have a problem with watching where they are going when backing up.

The main problem is not that they don’t initially look behind them before backing, its continuing to look while they are backing. They tend to turn back around while they are still moving backwards, instead of waiting until the vehicle has come to complete stop. And, as you know, all kinds of things can pop up behind you when backing up.

What does all of this have to do with motorcycling? Well, the same principle applies with motorcycles. You need to look in the direction you are traveling at all times, even if it is while backing up. Too bad I don’t always follow my own advice…

After commuting home from work one day I found my ’98 Ford Explorer parked fairly close to the garage door. We try to keep it parked back down the driveway so I can ride around the left side on the grass to get the bike around it and into the garage. I’m sure one of my kids did it. Anyway, I decided to be lazy and get the bike inside anyway.

I pulled around the left side into the yard and this time I pulled passed the explorer and further to the left. I was going to back into the space in front of the Explorer and down into the space in front of my ’01 Windstar, which was parked further down the driveway, and then pull into the garage. I turned the front wheel to the right, glanced behind me and started backing the V-Star 1100 back and to the right. Unfortunately, I was not looking behind me as I was rolling backwards.

In my own defense there is also a small tree to the left of the driveway I had to watch out for. Well, I was slowly rolling backwards, I thought, into the driveway when I heard and felt the crunch. I think I even heard my Mistress, (my 2003 V-Star 1100), yell, “Ouch, you moron, watch where you are going!” The bike had stopped moving and I turned around to see the left rear turn signal stalk had ran into the Explorer’s bumper and had bent the stalk forwards slightly.

After dismounting and inspecting closer the turn signal had bent at an assembly joint and the Star Turn Signal Visor was dented down. I loosened the bolt and straightened the turn signal stalk. Then I just used pliers to bend the visor back into shape as best I could. I was thankful that was all my carelessness caused. Mistress said, “Be more careful and never let it happen again”. I sighed, “Yes, Ma’am!”

What is the moral of the story? Practice what you preach, and look in the direction you are traveling at all times.

Ride on,
Torch

Attack of the U.F.M.

Attack of the U.F.M.

It all started on a sleepy autumn morning. I rode to work early, usually getting up around 4:30 – 4:40 am and left around 5:00 – 5:10 am. Needless to say I’m usually only partially awake at that time in the morning. I don my leathers and head out to the garage.

I opened the garage door and backed Mistress, my V-Star1100 Classic, out and got the rest of my gear on, gloves, face mask, clear riding glasses, and half helmet. I tucked my lunch inside my right saddlebag. It was cold enough outside that I had trouble keeping the glasses from fogging up when I breathed out my nose. I closed the garage door and proceeded to start the bike.

First I turned the ignition key all the way on. I made sure the choke, (fuel enrichment knob), was turned all the way on. Then, I made sure the fuel cut off valve was turned down to the on position remembering that if I do not turn the fuel knob back on, I will not make it out of my neighborhood with out running out of fuel and stalling the bike. Don’t ask me how I know. I pressed the cut of switch to the run position and hit the start button.

Mistress’s 1100 V-Twin roared to life. With the Cobra exhaust, you can bet my neighbors know when I leave in the morning. I slid the fuel enrichment knob, (works like a choke), over to idle her down some and headed carefully out of my driveway onto the dark, damp streets.

It was a cold, dark and foggy Monday morning. I turned out of my neighbor hood and headed eastbound on Cheek Sparger Road. I straightened out from the turn and started to accelerate. Just then, I caught some movement just barely visible at the far reaches of the headlamp and riding lights off the side of the road. At first I didn’t pay to much attention to it, thinking it’s probably just a rabbit on the side of the road hopping around.

Then I noticed the anomaly is headed perpendicularly to my track on the road and will cross right in front of me. That’s when I spotted the glowing white beady eyes of this creature fixated on my Mistress and myself, reflected from the lights. As I got closer I could make out its size. It was larger than an alley cat and more like the size of a small dog. Now I could make out some large teeth and huge fangs in a pointy snout and large whiskers with foam trailing out the corners of its mouth.

Just then I realized what the Unidentified Flying Marsupial was. It was a very angry opossum running at full gallop across the road and headed straight for me. It looked like it was out for blood. For all I knew it could be rabid. I raised the angle on my right wrist and Mistress responded by slowing down some, both of us hoping to throw the attackers timing off. I just new it was going to either try to get up underneath my front tire and knock me off my bike or just jump straight up for a death grip on my throat.

My change in speed to throw off the timing ploy did not work. My next tactic was to aim my V-Star 1100 right at it. Mistress nodded in agreement. The logic in this approach was that, if I tried to hit a moving target, more than likely I would fail. The gargantuan opossum was at a full out run and just fixing to spring at me, its claws glistened in the riding lamps, when its head hit my front tire. It made a hollow thump type sound.

At this point neither one of us could adjust the momentum we had built up. The killer slid underneath the path of the bike. I could feel the rear of the bike lift up as the rear tire ran over the marsupials head. I knew it was its head because if it had been its body the back end of the motorcycle would have bounced up a lot higher.

In a flash it was over. Mistress and I had thwarted a deadly attack from a killer opossum and barely survived. I tried to glance back behind me and saw nothing on the roadway. But it was foggy and dark so I might not have been able to see it. I called my wife when I got to work and asked her if she had seen anything in the road, she leaves for work right after me, she had not. I looked closely again at the scene of the assault on my way home and saw nothing. The Attacker had made a clean get away.

Opossums are the other brown meat and tastes like chicken, I would imagine. Otherwise, they can be just another large, rodent looking, Unidentified Flying Marsupial obstacle in the road. Most of the time, you only get to see them with their little feet sticking up stiffly. Yep, they are just another obstacle you have to watch out for while riding a motorcycle in the Texas suburbs.
What is the moral of this story? Be prepared at any time, any place, and any conditions to react to changes in road conditions or obstacles in your path. Also remember, not all obstacles hold still for you. Sometimes obstacles have a mind of their own.

Ride on,
Torch

The Stench of the Ride

The Stench of the Ride

Sometimes trying to describe the nuances of riding on two wheels to the uninitiated is hard to do. Take for example smells. Being set free from the confines of a cage lets the surrounding scents in. The smell of the Waffle House on my commute to work in the morning most of the time is an aroma that will makes me want to stop and have breakfast. Riding by restaurant row in Grapevine on my way home I can sometimes pick out the smells of steaks cooking ad that gets my salivary glands all hyped up.

There are all kinds of scents that you notice when riding a motorcycle that you never have a chance to when driving an automobile. It is probably worse here in Texas where almost everyone has their windows rolled up and air conditioners running on max. Some of these smells are, like it is going to snow, smoke from a fireplace, someone grilling or smoking a brisket, imminent rain, flower or tree blossoms, piney woods, or coastal salty air. Not all scents are fun to smell though.

Then there are the bad odors, the diesels, the cars running too rich, the sewers, the dumps and landfills. Some food establishments may smell OK on the inside, but outside emit something that’s not quite pleasurable. Most fast food places are like that. Then there is the time Thomas Ramirez had his V-Star 650. We rode to lunch one day headed to one of our favorite restaurants called El Taco H. It is located right next to the Baja Grill and is like the fast food part of the Baja Grill.

We headed our way through downtown Grapevine and through some residential neighborhoods. We passed one older home with chain link fence with several dogs in the backyard. Then it hit us. The breeze must have blown just ever so slightly and we were slapped up side the head with the worst, foulest smell of dog do-do you ever smelt. I’m talking take your breath away, nauseous type of smell. It’s like when you are riding at highway speeds on a very windy day and a strong cross wind goes across your face and you cannot take a breath.

I attempted to hold my breath until we got further away. We came to the next stop sign and Thomas, catching his breath also, said, “Did you...” I cut him off with a laugh and we laughed together, shook our heads and twisted them off to go to lunch hoping to get our appetite back. Yes, not everything smells rosy when riding a motorcycle.

Ride on,
Torch

Why Motorcycles Are Better Than Women

Disclaimer: Forgive me in advance for offending someone. That is definately not my intention. I’m only posting this because of the humor involved. I, in no way, wish to offend any of our women motorcyclists or women in general. I have just barrowed bits of this from various other sites and edited it to fit motorcycling. I am sure one of our female riding bloggers will come up with a list of their own of why motorcycles are better then men.



Why Motorcycles Are Better Than Women


A motorcycle does not care if you are politically correct or not.
A motorcycle doesn’t complain about being tied up.
A motorcycle doesn't care when you come.
A motorcycle doesn't get jealous when you ride another motorcycle.
A motorcycle doesn't mind being parked in the ""wet spot"" that it left.
A motorcycle goes good with leather.
A motorcycle is always ready to leave on time.
A motorcycle is never late.
A motorcycle never fishes for compliments.
A motorcycle will let you have your way with it.
A motorcycle won't complain about leaving the toilet seat up.
A motorcycle won't get upset if you come home with alcohol on your breath.
A motorcycle won't make you eat some experimental meal.
A motorcycle won't make you go to church.
A motorcycle won't make you sleep on the couch.
After you have ridden a motorcycle, you're committed to nothing.
If a motorcycle leaks all over the garage, it smells kind of good.
If you change Motorcycles, you don't have to pay alimony.
If you say bad things to your Motorcycles, you don’t have to apologize before you can ride it again.
If you twist your throttle hard enough, you will always get ahead.
If your Motorcycle doesn’t look good, you can paint it or get better parts.
If your Motorcycle goes flat, you can fix it.
If your Motorcycle is misaligned, you don’t have to discuss politics to correct it.
If your Motorcycle is too loose, you can tighten it.
If your Motorcycle is too soft, you can get different shocks.
If your Motorcycle makes too much noise, you can buy a muffler.
If your Motorcycle smokes, you can do something about it.
It’s always OK to use tie downs on your Motorcycle.
Motorcycle labels come off without a fight.
Motorcycle labels don't go out of style every year.
Motorcycles always feel like going for a ride.
Motorcycles always look the same in the morning.
Motorcycles always sound pleasant.
Motorcycles are always easy to pick up.
Motorcycles are easy to dress up.
Motorcycles are easy to get on.
Motorcycles are fun to ride in a group.
Motorcycles are never overweight.
Motorcycles can’t change its mind.
Motorcycles don’t care about how many other Motorcycles you have ridden.
Motorcycles don’t care about how many other Motorcycles you have.
Motorcycles don’t care if you are late.
Motorcycles don’t demand equality.
Motorcycles don’t get cold hands/feet.
Motorcycles don’t get jealous if you come home with grease under your fingernails.
Motorcycles don’t get pregnant.
Motorcycles don’t have parents.
Motorcycles don’t insult you if you are a bad rider.
Motorcycles don’t mind if you look at other Motorcycles, or if you buy Motorcycle magazines.
Motorcycles don’t remember.
Motorcycles don’t snore.
Motorcycles don’t whine unless something is really wrong.
Motorcycles won't blow you off.
Motorcycles don't care if you have no culture or manners.
Motorcycles don't complain about insensitivity.
Motorcycles don't complain about the way you drive.
Motorcycles don't demand legality.
Motorcycles don't get bad breath.
Motorcycles don't get cramps.
Motorcycles don't go crazy once a month.
Motorcycles don't have a lawyer.
Motorcycles don't have a mother.
Motorcycles don't have morals.
Motorcycles don't live with its mother.
Motorcycles don't look you up in a month.
Motorcycles don't make you go shopping.
Motorcycles don't mind football season.
Motorcycles don't mind getting dirty.
Motorcycles don't mind if you fart or belch.
Motorcycles don't mind seeing Chuck Norris and Charles Bronson flicks.
Motorcycles don't need much closet space.
Motorcycles don't need to go to the 'powder room'.
Motorcycles don't pout or play games.
Motorcycles don't tease you or play hard to get.
Motorcycles don't tell you to mow the grass.
Motorcycles don't think baseball is stupid simply because the guys spit.
Motorcycles don't use up your toilet paper.
Motorcycles don't wear a bra.
Motorcycles don't worry about someone walking in.
Motorcycles don't worry about waking the kids.
Motorcycles go down the road easy.
Motorcycles last longer.
Motorcycles never argue with you.
Motorcycles never ask for the remote.
Motorcycles never ask if an accessory makes it look fat.
Motorcycles never change the station.
Motorcycles never complain when you don’t stop and ask for directions.
Motorcycles never complain when you take it somewhere.
Motorcycles never have a headache.
Motorcycles never say no.
Motorcycles never talk back.
Motorcycles only need their fluids changed every 2,000 miles.
Motorcycles won't run off with your credit cards.
Motorcycles’ curves never sag.
No matter how many times you ride it, the motorcycle is still worth something.
Oil stains wash out.
One gets in no trouble for storing disassembled pieces of the motorcycle in the basement.
Road rash heals.
When motorcycles get old you trade it out.
When riding, you and your Motorcycle both arrive at the same time.
When you go shopping, you know you can always pick up a motorcycle.
When your motorcycle is gone, you just get another.
With the odometer on zero, you always know that you are the first one to ride a motorcycle.
You can always talk to your motorcycle.
You can choke your motorcycle.
You can dress warmly and still ride a frigid motorcycle.
You can enjoy a motorcycle all month.
You can have more than one motorcycle.
You can kick your Motorcycle to wake it up.
You can legally rent a motorcycle.
You can ride a motorcycle all night.
You can ride a Motorcycle any time of the month.
You can ride a Motorcycle as long as you want and it won’t get sore.
You can ride a motorcycle in public.
You can ride more than one motorcycle a night and not feel guilty.
You can share a motorcycle with your friends.
You can share your Motorcycle with your friends.
You can upgrade your motorcycle at any time.
You can't catch anything but “euphoria” from a motorcycle.
You don’t have to be jealous of the guy that works on your Motorcycle.
You don’t have to convince your Motorcycle that you’re a motorcyclist and that you think that all Motorcycles are equals.
You don’t have to deal with priests or blood-tests to register your Motorcycle.
You don’t have to pay child support to an ex-motorcycle.
You don’t have to take a shower before riding your Motorcycle.
You don’t have to talk to your motorcycle after you ride it.
You don't have to wash a motorcycle before it looks good.
You don't have to wine and dine a motorcycle.
You only need to get a new chain or belt for your Motorcycle when the old one is worn.
You rarely (if ever) find motorcycle labels on the shower curtain rod.
Your Motorcycle doesn’t care what you’re wearing when you take it out.
Your motorcycle doesn’t get mad when you ignore it for a month or so.
Your Motorcycle never wants a night out alone with the other Motorcycles.
Your motorcycle will always wait patiently for you in the garage.
Your motorcycle won’t leave you for another rider.
Your motorcycle won’t wake you up at 2:00 AM and ask you if you love it.
Your parents don’t remain in touch with your old Motorcycle after you dump it.

Ride on,
Torch

Where Is Your Horn Button?

The D/FW traffic reputation has been notoriously bad, and probably for good reasons. There is one intersection in Grapevine Texas that I go through at least once a day Monday through Friday and sometimes on Saturday. It is the first intersection I go through on my way home from work. It is the intersection at Grapevine Main Street and State Highway 114 on the north side of SH114. Even when driving a cage through this intersection I have had too many close encounters and near misses to count.

Traveling west bound on the SH114 access road you come the intersection at Grapevine Main Street. There are three lanes to choose from. The far right lane is for right turn only onto Main Street headed north. The far left lane is to turn left on Main Street headed south or continue straight west bound on the SH114 access road. The center lane is to continue straight west bound on the SH114 access road.

Map Link

Street View
　
The problems start when vehicles in the center lane attempt to turn left onto Main Street headed south. They turn left in front of the vehicles that have opted to go straight through the light. That is the most common traffic mistake that you see at this intersection. However, I have also experienced people in the far right turn only lane going straight causing three vehicles to attempt to fit into the two lanes available on the other side of the stoplight. There is no telling how many traffic accidents have happened at this intersection. I have almost been hit three to four times in various vehicles, all when going straight from the far left lane.

There are several reasons that I feel that this happens. First is that people do not pay attention to the traffic signs. Unless a larger vehicle blocks your view, you can clearly see the sign on the left showing that the far left lane can turn left or go straight. I you scroll closer to the stoplight you can see it is also clearly marked with a large sign that the center lane is to go straight only, the far right is to go right only. On top of that, the arrows, although worn, are also painted on the road itself indicating which lanes can go which direction. I feel they need to add a solid line across the intersection for the drivers in the center lane to follow in an attempt to keep them from turning left. When will people learn that if you are in the wrong lane there is always another intersection ahead you can turn around at?

The second issue is that the coming from the opposite direction at the stoplight on the other side of the bridge, it is different. Going the other direction the far left lane is left turn only. The center lane can turn left or go straight. The far right lane is still right turn only. I feel that making it different on each side of the bridge makes it confusing for the sheep, I mean, drivers.

So, there I was nine months later since making my Fiamm Freeway Blaster Low Note horn upgrade to my V-Star 1100. I had just gotten off work and I was setting at the stoplight at SH114 East bound at the Grapevine Main Street intersection. I was in the far left lane; a few vehicles back, waiting for the light to turn green. I was going to go straight through the light and hop on State Highway 121 Southbound for home.

The light turned green and I twisted the throttle on Mistress and started to go. As soon as I started to enter the intersection, a large dark pickup truck of unknown make, in the center lane besides and ahead of me, turned left cutting me off. I slammed on both brakes at the same time almost coming to a stop. When I could see the truck was going to pass by with out me becoming a fender molding, my left thumb went for the horn button. My thumb, instead of hitting the horn button hit the headlamp high beam switch instead. By now the encroaching truck was long gone. I twisted the throttle, hoped on S.H.121 and was gone.

The good news was, I was able to slow down quickly and gracefully and had avoided an accident. Hitting the high beam switch instead of the horn was embarrassing. I’m writing this to remind all the motorcycle riders out there to be familiar with all the controls on their bike of choice. I knew where the horn button was. I panicked and hit the wrong one. Practice, practice, practice, until you can get them all with your eyes closed. Where is your horn button?

Ride on,
Torch