Out of Control on the Freeway

What started as a beautiful mornning yesterday turned seriously close to deadly on the way to a charity run. We were supposed to meet up with some friends of ours at 8:00 a.m. to head down to Glendale, CA Harley Davidson for a poker run. As it was, we were running a little late, only a few minutes, and got there around 8:10. It's funny how you look back and think, "Wow....if we'd left on time..."

The morning was absolutely beautiful, clear skies, about 65 degrees. As it was early on a Sunday there was very little traffic on the freeway. We had about a 40 mile shot down the freeway to the dealer and even though traffic was light, people were still driving pretty fast.

One of the things about L.A. traffic is that it is so bad, so congested virtually night and day that when people do get an open road, 80-90 mph in a car is not unusual at all.

We were in the fast lane doing about 70-75 mph , me and my wife in front, our friends on their bike behind us. There was a woman in a Toyota Camry in front of me about 5-6 car lengths ahead. Other vehicles in the slower lanes keeping pace with us and a kid on a sport bike who had just changed lanes from the #2 lane to the #3 lane.

We still do not know why she did it, maybe she started to change lanes and saw or thought she saw a car coming up behind her but without warning, and seemingly for no reason, the driver in front of me in the Toyota lost complete control of her vehicle, fishtailing all the way from the fast lane to the #3 lane.

At this point all I could hear was rubber squeeling everywhere as any car around us realized what was happening and started hitting the brakes. Not wanting to lock up the tires on my bike I hit the brakes praying that my buddy and his girlfriend and anyone else behind them wouldn't come crashing into us from behind. It all happens so fast that you barely have time to think but after sliding over 3 lanes, the Toyota, still completely out of control, did a 360 and looked for sure that it would flip and roll. But what happened was that she started sliding all the way back over directly to us in the fast lane again.

Even if I'd had time to, I had nowhere to go to my left from the fast lane as there was freeway contruction and nothing but cement barriers where the breakdown lane use to be. Just as I was coming to a stop thinking for sure she'd wind up nailing us from the side, she stopped in the #2 lane next to us and about 30 feet ahead.

Unfortunately, the kid on the sport bike wound up slamming into the back of an SUV who had jammed on the brakes right when the Camry came into his lane. Amazingly, the kid walked away with a few scratches and a mangled bike.

We made sure he was okay, stayed around to help the driver who was shaken up and gave a report to the CHP. Needless to say, the rest of the ride down to the Harley dealer was with a lot of trepidation.

I was proud of myself that I was able to control the bike and didn't freak out in that situation but all day kept thinking that it was only because of God that we rode off safely.

Be safe everyone

Loud Pipes Save Lives. Huh?

Seriously now, loud pipes on a motorcycle might save a life or two, or more. But how many people, when they bought their bike, said to the salesperson, "I'm really concerned about motorcycle safety. Other than my protective gear, I heard that if I put the loudest exhaust system on my bike it will offer me a bit more protection since people will hear me better."

Come on, we all know why we want that big-assed HOG to sound the way it does! Because it sounds better than the stock pipes!!! Although I would say that if you do a Stage I upgrade you'll get bigger pipes so that would be another reason but I think you'd be hard pressed to find someone that only did it for safety.

Look, when I bought my bike the salesman asked what kind of pipes I wanted. I told him I wanted something that sounded loud but didn't want to go overboard. So I got the Vance and Hines Staggered Longshots because they looked and sounded cool. Frankly, I wish they were louder.

The problem of course is that people in cars get seriously annoyed at the sound of these pipes. I do agree that they're loud but they are also abused. Throttle jockeys sitting at a red light blipping constantly, someone cruising up a residential street, winding it out for maximum effect. This is what has caused the backlash against loud pipes. We can argue all we want but the reality is that many communities are already clamping down on pipes over a certain decibal.

What bothers me more of course is someone sitting at a light in their 5000 lb SUV, or worse, their beat up, 20 year old Nissan, with a $5000 stero system bumping the bass to the point where my eardrums are trashed. How in God's name can that be allowed yet motorcycle's are being targeted.

I love my pipes, I'm as guilty as the next person of showing off their sound sometimes. And I'm all for the government leaving me the hell alone. But we do not live in a vaccuum. Our actions affect others. Just like with the helmet laws, laws can easily be written restricting our enjoyment. Let's at least be honest about why we like loud pipes and realize this.

Am I A Biker or a RUB?

Ya know, ever since I was in high school I wanted a motorcycle. And to me, ever since I was in high school, that meant a Harley. Forget the fact that while I was in high school, Harley-Davidson was owned by a bowling ball company, I just always knew I wanted a Harley. Now keep in mind that I grew up in a squarely middle-class, suburban, conservative household. Bikers and the motorcycle culture were viewed with, well, not disdain but certainly were not held up in the highest regard. My own personal lifestyle and life experiences though, led me to people that were quite the opposite from my family and I was constantly around a fringe element.

I guess some people who have owned bikes all their lives just had the attitude of "Fuck it...I don't care if I can barely afford it, I need my bike. It is what I am." Whether it was a new ride that they had to make payments on or an old beat up piece of shit that constantly cost them money to fix, these guys and gals were of a certain breed. I always admired it. Me? Well, I was always the one who was waiting until I could afford one. As we all know, that day sometimes never comes.

For me though, the day did come a couple of years ago. Even though it was a bit of a stretch, my wife and I were finally able to get our Harley. If it had been up to me it wouldn't have happened. But, God love her, my lady put her foot down and said she was tired of seeing me pissed off every time someone on a bike flew by us or one of our friends said they were going on a ride. So at the comfortable age of 48, and with at least a few comforts that come with that age and steady employment, I became "a biker".

Or did I? Some people have said, if ya ride, you're a biker. Others say, no, you're not a biker because you haven't paid your dues as one. You're nothing but a RUB. RUB of course being the insulting acronym for Rich Urban Biker.

Well, even if I was rich, and urban and owned a bike, I guess that would still make me a biker of sorts wouldn't it?

And while we're on it, if the term RUB is meant as an insult, shouldn't it be RSB?? As in Rich Suburban Biker? I mean urban brings up images of Brooklyn, Chicago, Detroit, Oakland and other tough, gritty cities. So let's at least get that straight huh?

So what am I? I'm not definitely not rich, I live in a "suburb" of Los Angeles but am still in the maw of 15 million people surrounding me in Southern California, but I own a bike. I despise labels. If owning a bike and enjoying it more than any other material possesion I've ever had, and riding it over 10,000 miles in one year makes me a "biker" than I'm a biker. If the fact that I didn't have the opportunity to own one until later in life makes me a RUB, so be it.

Either way, the sun is breaking through the clouds today, it's in the mid 60's and I'm getting on my bike. When I pass another biker on the road, he or she will wave. If I stop at the local watering hole for a beer later in the day and start chatting it up with the others that are there, we might not know if we're talking to a lawyer, a cop, a warehouse worker or a parolee. But what we will know is that we rode in on a bike. And that is the common bond.

Harley-Davidson, Jerk This

So I'm kicking it on the patio this morning, reading the paper, drinking some really good coffee. The mornings in southern California are starting to get crisp. Typical for this time of year. I'm reading the L.A. Times and I'm in the business section. Since we are heavily invested, I usually like to see how poorly my wife's company's stock is performing. Once again, I'm not disappointed.

Just as I'm about to shred the paper to bits over the lackluster performance of our holdings I notice a small, two column article:

Harley-Davidson Teams With ConAgra on Line of Beef Jerky
The article by Associated Press goes on to read,
"Harley-Davidson Inc is selling a new source of fuel, one that goes into mouths instead of gas tanks and comes in flavors including teriyaki and pepper....."

Now I'm not that knowledgable with Harley in such detail that I know that they have, in the past, tried to market such food stuffs as barbecue sauce and spices. But sure enough they have. Unfortunately, according to Harley spokesman Tom Parsons, "Nothing ever fit with the brand and it's image like jerky".

Why does that strike me as the funniest thing I've heard in some time? My local Harley dealership offers everything except baby powder that has the bar and shield logo on it. And to be honest, after some long rides this past summer, I wish they offered that as well for my sweaty buns.

But beef jerky? I can almost see Willie G cruising the streets of Milwaukee on his Ultra-Glide with a giant knot of jerky hanging out of his mouth.

Don't get me wrong. I LOVE Harley-Davidson. I think they are one of the greatest American success stories of the 20th century and I am in awe of their level of branding. I love their bikes and I love the lifestyle they promote. So I say, go for it. Name any other motor company where you can walk out of a dealership with coffee, playing cards, baby clothes and now jerky all branded with their logo on them.

I'm hoping for some Harley branded toothpaste or something though. I wouldn't want bits of Harley beef jerky stuck in my teeth when I'm trying to impress the ladies.

The whole AP story can be read here:
Harley-Davidson Teams with ConAgra on Beef Jerky

Customizing the Harley

I had a wake up call this weekend. I've been having this affair with "Lucille" for over a year but due to finances, have only put a few bits of chrome and bling on her. I put on some nostalgia footboards and foot controls, new air cleaner cover, new chrome tank extension but what I have really wanted to do is to get some new handlebars and grips.

I've been eyeballing the Harley Beach slammer bars along with the knurled chrome grips. It would be a lot cleaner look to have the wires tucked in the bar and then get braided lines for the clutch and brake.

As I had a milestone birthday recently, some family members gave me some cash to help out with the purchase. So off we went on Saturday to the Harley dealer (or as they are affectionately known to some- the stealer). This is the same dealership (Glendale Harley-Davidson) I bought the bike at and they are starting to know me there. Good guys all around.

Before I rode down I put together a little wish list of some things I wanted but it became apparent real quickly that unless I wanted to load up the credit card, I'd have to stick to just the bars and grips. Forget the clutch and brake housings. Let's just get the bars and grips, the rest will come.

Well, the dealer was out of stock on the Harley bars but they did have a White Brothers burley bikini beach bar in stock. Now, I'd been sitting on a Heritage Classic in the showroom a few weeks earlier that had these bars on it and I loved them. Total comfort and very cool looking. Remembering how much I liked them I said, I wanted them.

So we added up the cost of the bars, grips and the braided lines. I paid for it all and then said, "Oh hey, I forgot to ask: How much is labor on this?" Without blinking, the kid behind the counter said, "Well, I think it's about 10 hours labor at $80 per hour but I can check for you".

Let's all take a moment shall we?
Picture in your mind if you will, a 50 year old man beginning to weep in a Harley Davidson shop. It's a sad sight. And before y'all start asking, no, I'm not handy and I'm not about to start learning on the handlebars, throttle and brake lines on a bike I regularly ride at 80 mph on the freeways.

To make a long story shorter, my wife who was with me said, "Honey, it's your 50th birthday, do it". As it turned out, it'll probably be closer to "only" $600 labor. What a steal! I mean, uh...deal.

Oh, a few words of advice: Don't do a search online for something you bought at the dealer when you KNOW in your gut you can find it online cheaper.

Keep the rubber down and ride safe everyone!

Billy Lane DUI, Some thoughts

When I first heard the news that Billy Lane had killed a guy on a moped while he was illegally (double yellow line) passing, I believe, two cars I was livid. A lot of blogs and forums were filled with posts about how we all have to wait for the details to come out before we crucify him.

Fair enough. The details are now out. This punk-ass mofo was drunk. In fact, he was more than twice over the legal limit when he blasted his truck head on into the path of 56-year-old Melbourne Beach resident Gerald Morelock. Of course Billy was not only drunk, he also resisted a blood alcohol test. Hmmm..I wonder if the fact that he was already waiting trial in North Carolina for a previous DUI had anything to do with it. Or maybe it was that he was driving with a suspended license? Just a thought.

I'm fed up with this cult of celebrity that this country feeds on where anyone feels they can get away with anything because of their celebrity status.

We'll see how this plays out but as of now, Mr Lane is up for manslaughter. I hope he gets the same punishment any drunken slob would get who killed someone in a wreck.

Welcome to HarleyHog

So the blog bug hit me. I figured as an internet "entrepeneur" of varying degrees of success (and failure), it was time I start blogging. Great. So what do I write about? As the owner of a fitness related site and author of a few bodybuilding type articles that have been posted on various websites I wanted to get off that track and just do something for fun.

What do I do for fun? Well, I love a good cigar and a martini but a website devoted to alcohol and tobacco seemed strange. Cats? We have two, they cause my allergies to flare up. Why in God's name would I write about them? Basketball? Football? Sex? I could write volumes on that last subject but it's doubtful anyone would want to listen to me whine about never getting enough. There's a ton of stuff I could blabber on about but the other day as I was getting on "Lucille" for a ride it struck me that in the short time I've been riding, I've had some interesting experiences and I'm sure there are others who might be bored one night and stumble across my ramblings and might want to share some of their own.

So I started HarleyHog. Where this will lead I do not know but if nothing else I'll get some of my thoughts and experiences put down on what has become a real love: Harley-Davidson Motorcycles.

So if anyone cares to blog on about their adventures, things that piss them off or anything bike related, here we go.