Chrome at the Post

October 2, 2014

One hundred fifty years ago cowboys would come off the range, hitch their ponies to the post in front of the local saloon, and go in and drink sarsaparillas. The horses rested at the hitching post and cooled themselves at the water trough. The cowboys got out of the wind and refreshed themselves with soft-drinks. This romantic half-truth kept the peace on the old range and allowed white men and native americans to cooperate and prosper- sometimes. Other times not so much… At any rate the old reliable equine has been replaced by the motorcycle.

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Sweating horses, hitching post-

long past; shadows of a cowboy’s ghost.

At Starbucks now my ride doth rest;

Blue chrome reflects my drink request.

—–

Horse power measured digit one,

saddle, spurs and hat with gun;

Today a ride of grumbling haste-

Horses thunder, high-test grace.

—–

Reigns of leather, bridle held,

Twelve hundred pounds of muscle meld-

Progress turned horse flesh to steel;

side-stand tilts, V-twin revealed.

—–

Long ago the horses ruled,

hitching post and water cooled.

Modern rides; two wheels might roll-

electronic lock controlled.

Rolling Through Changes

September 20, 2014

The rock band REO Speedwagon once wrote a song called ‘Roll With The Changes’. The song has very important implications for today. Washington Society is pushing us to keep changing our founding fathers principles and traditions. I say they can keep the change; while I roll on through…
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Available, an upgrade now,
Leading edge; free furrowed brow.
My V-twin pounds a steady beat,
Upgrades steel, with chrome that’s neat!

Better phones with faster texts,
Brighter lights; avoiding wrecks-
EPA’s much stricter rules…
got to buy some metric tools.

ISIS wants us all to pray,
to moon god parked down Mecca way.
Yeshua is my LORD to keep-
Fuel injector program leap;
When download done – the box will beep.

Sparkie Rider

August 26, 2014

Motorcycle news has been full of electric motorcycle products for many months. Harley-Davidson was the latest to showcase an electric ride. Now personally, I’m all for improving technology, but when limited range is combined with hours and hours of recharging… Well, didn’t we visit this issue back in the 1910s! My short answer is Tesla will fail and electric bikes at best will be a novelty.

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Chemistry evokes electrons small,
Horizons far; a tricky order tall-
Visionaries march towards carbon free!
Petroleum in tanks is all I see…

Combustion of a different sort – OK,
on distance none will waffle or be swayed.
The atoms in your battery get tired,
hours pass while charging fully wired…

Need a charge- those plugs are hard to find.
Armatures and staters on you mind;
Imitation noise a selling tool-
Valve adjustments? Never is the rule.

So saddle up! Then ride to windmill farm,
Visualize the energy, and harm.
Flaring and deep fracking is still best!
Internal fire rumbles on request….

The Quantum Motorcycle Mechanic

July 9, 2014

Quantum physics is a very strange set of equations that predict the existence of sub-atomic particles and their corresponding force vectors. But that isn’t the way it started out. The physicists who began the work were actually Harley riders and they were searching for a single equation; using their odometer as a baseline- to predict when they should change their engine, primary and transmission lubricants. The resultant work yielded strange outcomes like ‘anti-chrome plated’ oil filters. The rest is motorcycle history…

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Accelerate to speeds beyond the known-
As time dilates to squeeze a bottom clone.
Anti-spin collisions, get a quark,
Transmission oil is looking awful dark…

Ride through a vector field with charm-
Another round odometer won’t harm.
The engine oil must drain at winter’s face;
Electrons twice, two places once embrace.

Equations theory filters with a nut,
Much easier to twist; then fully shut-
But will the Higgs trace out a blatant path-
Scraped knuckles are the only epitaph.

Synthetic color mystifies the mind,
Inspection plate removal at the chime.
Femto seconds age at pico-scale,
Cruise boldly through old Sol’s neutrino gale!

Quittin Time

July 9, 2014

Title Stolen from Mary Chapin Carpenter’s song…

If you have a riding problem- you do it at Quittin Time

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Nail deep to hold the structure’s frame,
Another roof conceals enchantment’s flame-
Minutes drag till day completes its fun;
Release the torque for v-twin rumble run.

Cubicles encase the business ebb and flow;
Endless tapping keys unlocked, transpose-
Knowledge printed read, then glibly tossed,
Handlebars will pull you from partition’s dross.

Baking sun or icy gale, a prairie players prayer;
Target depth from toil and greasy derrik’s tare.
One last pipe to trip on schedule firm yet true;
Then saddle up your triple pistoned ego coup-

Mundane to serve a burger on a garnished bun,
Patrons harried raw by deadlines they do shun.
French fries bubble deep within the slime-
RPMs and thrust to claim; at Quittin Time.

Motorcycle Diet

June 27, 2014

Motorcycles are exactly like money; they are inherently neither good or bad, can be used for value based exchanges, often their value is related to the latest crude oil quote and are occasionally moved in the middle of the night by nefarious characters. They have been known to take people to places they should avoid – like ice cream parlors.

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Sugar cravings creeping round?
Can’t quite lose that stubborn pound?
Blame may lie at V-twin’s wheels-
Tuesday has those 2- for deals!

As you round your favorite curve
Speed demands your steeled nerve-
Then your will to jelly turns,
Spying house of deep fried burns!

Gasoline flows in your tank,
Card it siphons from your bank.
Salty snacks on shelves abound…
Belt to loosen stomach round.

Chocolate becons; creamy song-
Scale bemoans you’re in the wrong!
Motorcycle doesn’t care…
Adjust the shocks once more- with care.

Minding Your Ride

May 20, 2014

Do you ever wonder how motorcyclists make decisions while they are riding? You’re in good company, because no one else does either… But in today’s philosophy of waisting time on pointless research, I thought it would be important to peal back the onion on a motorcyclist’s brain in action. A new low- I know already…

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RADAR on the internet;
Forecast shows no front to fret-
Ride on roads not fully planned,
Text the friends with just one hand.

Dress the part and TCLOCS first,
Ready for the power burst-
Rendezvous agreed for start;
Caffeine races head and heart.

Search the road twelve seconds out,
Swerve and miss that tree branch stout!
Snap check fuel while scan on goes;
Spacing good, as traffic slows.

Adjust a mirror to better view,
Closing threats as throttle queues-
Roadway scan shows clear ahead,
Outside curve, then lean to thread.

Brain beyond the handlebars-
Sunshine bright or under stars,
Fleeting glance to left or right-
Creator’s goodness and His might.

The Chrome Palette

April 28, 2014

True motorcycle affectionados know that chrome is a bold accent to your ride with subtle yet perceptible tones. Chrome is not a clashing cymbal, but a brass ensemble of reflection and form costing thousands of both dollars and hours.

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Does Tiffany’s define a cut of brighter hue,
Or swords of steel slice rain as thin or true?
My ventilator breathes in air with lungs of chrome;
Pedestrians glimpse flashes as I roam.

Cylinders are topped with flashy steel,
Exhaust pipes burn of blues and sprinkled teal.
Highway bars protect by blended white;
Yellow clouds dance on my chrome headlight.

Forks forged firm suspend with mirrored shine,
A frame of black and orange through prism fine-
Brake lights beam reflected back each time
Chrome spectrums tell the Maker’s story line.

Left Arrow Green

April 6, 2014

If you ride motorcycles in urban or suburban settings, you’ll quickly note that multi-taskers live in left turn lanes. They are doing everything but paying attention to the signals…

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Light change, green arrow;
In this designated lane.
Eyes up to left oblique
Throttle rolls, demands the strain-

Torque pulls the wheels forth
Press handlebars for lean.
Velocity past ten and then-
The v-twin gets hard mean.

Together clutch and toe refine
A better gear select-
Angles rate and past quite clean
Look through to lane elect.

And back to roll more gas to give
The fuel injectors hot.
Ventilator gasps the passing breeze
Blow by the sluggish lot.

Clean air proceeds, to cut a path;
And slipstream straight ahead,
Tires bite black asphalt sheen,
Keep rpm-s from scale of red.

Carrot Street Rider

March 28, 2014

Locke Ness Monster, Bessie, Kipsy and Champ may be mythical water monsters, but they don’t affect motorcycling in the traditional sense. However, there is a monster threat to riders in southern Texas- The Carrot Street Possum. I’ve seen it myself; and it’s something I wish I could ‘un-remember’!

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Shortcut avenue, minus signal light-
Saves anguish from the traffic blight.
But monsters lurk; quickly blossom,
Giant, fierce; the Carrot Street Possum!

Cool spring day on side street cruise,
Attention span you hold- don’t lose.
In third gear now and breeze is fine.
V-twin revs, keep right of line.

But suddenly from ditches dim-
Lumbers toothy little rhino grim.
Eyesight poor, caution blind-
Scamper on but pass behind.

Into abyss on other side-
Racing heart is hard to hide.
I slow to catch my breath, then ride.
Doubters cast aspersions; lied,
On Carrot Street the legend possum eyed.


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