Time Monster is chasing me, and getting closer and

I once said one should only do four hundred miles a day in order to see something of what was around. Hmm, that must be buried under that pile of good intentions on this planned ride. So I left Huntley, IL about seven their time, and am now in Madison, Ohio, at almost eight this time. Where have I been? On the motorcycle on the road and on the run. South Dakota has a seventy-five mph speed limit, but it seems like every state to the east drops the limit by five mph, and people just ignore it.

My first challenge of the day was Chicago morning commute traffic and road construction. It does seem to me that the toll road should reduce their fees when the road isn't fixed, fast and furious - I mean what am I paying for? But I took mostly 355 until I found 80 and headed to Indiana. For days I have been thinking that a photographer should take some great pictures of the abandoned barns around the country - before some slick developer buys the property and makes it into some more suburban blight area (not that it won't be pretty - but it will be hardly alive). Farms are still great, the trees are taller in Indiana and Ohio on the farms, the farms seem smaller than those great expanses of farther west, but still very much alive, it was nearing the Ohio border that I finally smelled the smell of money - don't know what kind of farm, but it was producing. And smelled so, wonder why I hadn't noticed it before. The weather has be outstanding, lots of sunshine and blue skies.

At the Fallen Timbers Visitors Center I received helpful information to get to Camp Perry - one of my major goals along the way. He told me not to take one route - it was slow and twisting along a river. I said I am riding a motorcycle, that is the route I must take -- and I did, it was a nice ride. You see so much of the same thing on the Freeways, that the county and state routes are full of variation and interesting stuff. Camp Perry was there, funny how I don't meet all the people I thought I would, but people do keep moving and working and doing stuff - have ever since they left the cave to hunt and gather. I do know I would like to shoot there one day - not in any too big a way, but just to shoot at far targets and pull and help score others. Great way to spend one's declining years.

Onward on Ohio State Route 2, towards Cleveland, named for the brother of the man that had seven daughters and died on Bunker Hill, one of his daughters is one of our ancestors and my sisters can be Daughters of the American Revolution, not quite as good as being a Revolutionary War Veteran or a member of such and Association (RWVA, just kidding!). I don't do the research, just my mother has told that story for years so there is some kind of truth in it. In Cleveland I pulled over to fuel up, and found no immediate joy. I did have a very nice ride through Rockefeller Park, saw several bronze statues of famous people I didn't know until Ghandi - he was a gimme'. University Circle, get lost a bit, find Coventry Road and those houses on the hill. I almost stopped to take a picture of the one I want my wife to buy me. Big bold brick, large front door with castle tower-like appearance. Sigh, sure I couldn't pay the taxes on it. Lots of those fine old homes and grounds up there.

I found a BP and fueled up, called Mike and Breda and talked. Then I had to find my way out of town, so I asked the young man working the station. He told me a long way and sounded positive and I took it. The worst that could happen was he would have a good laugh if he was foolin' me. He wasn't. The directions got me out and onward, high speed. Everyone is driving way too fast. In Cleveland, I was using my turn signals to warn of my changing direction, and in Washington State they would be nice and allow merge - not here - they honked at me like I had done something wrong, sigh. I do appreciate they didn't hit me, that would have been bad. Well, my battery is about done, so I must be, too. Y'all yeild a bit of space for the silly guys on those two wheeled thingees. Okay? Nite!

Unexpected, surprise! hello???

I did fine on finding the home of my cousin, I have ridden the Trusty Triumph all over noting where he isn't. Then the address worked. I was sure I pushed the door bell a couple of times, waited and tried again, but nothing. The neighbors across the street were wondering. I didn't have his telephone number, so I left some email and went looking for coffee and breakfast - found same. Called my mother six times, one of her care givers picked up finally and I had a fine conversation with her.

Getting a little tired (I had a blueberry muffin and extra large coffee at Dunkin' Doughnuts) I rode around looking for the public library and only found a name brand outlet store complex slowly dying of customerlack. I parked the bike and lay down under a shade tree at the far end of the parking lot. One of those terrible homeless guys sleeping off his last bottle of whatever... sure enough after about three pretty good solid hours of midWestern Summer slumber I woke and saw the big burly secrurity guy approaching me. So I asked him where the public library was... trick question, what big burly security guy would even know? He said he wasn't from around here, must be in the real original town - the one the farms once surrounded but now upscale developments do - lovely communities by the way, almost all surrounding golf courses, wide quiet streets, new trees, still growing but no rifle ranges that I have seen, there are still a few good looking farms, but the construction of bigger roads, more empty shopping centers for the future all tell me that John Deere will only be for the lawn and garden soon. So I said I would look in the original town and see. Pretty nice for a security guard on a roust - maybe he knew I was very dangerous, or he hasn't allowed the badge and gear to go to his head, cool. The corn crops here look pretty good so far.

I did ride around and sure enough I found the famous little international sign for library in this direction, after three of them I find myself at a computer terminal with two and a half hours of free use. I am still fascinated by Libraries - this one has a bit more noise than the quiet, very quiet one at my aunt Velva's retirement home. This is the Huntley Public Library
full of a range of Summer patrons, old sun tanned and burned folks, young kids (yeah! bring them on!) and job seekers and questing minds on the hunt. Yes, lots of activity. Quietly the fans in the timbered ceiling spin moving air, stone fireplace on one end of the main room, full parking lot, and the thumping you hear is the sensitizing of the library material - or desensitizing, thump of the book hitting the bottom of the book bin. Got to know the sound of the staff working on the library.

I got messages! from people I thought I would have met this morning, from people along the road ahead, and from my nephew hoping I would do two of the classic motorcycle rides of North Carolina - one may only pass this way once - seize the opportunity. Thanks for trying to get me there, and I would write about it, at some public library one day - my battery in the laptop and the camera both need recharging, but I have a good cell phone - since I keep turning it off until it is time to call out, check missed calls or just learn a bit more about how to use one without it becoming a new chain.

Hot running through the night...

I left Minnesota in the twilight and saw a few trees and hilly farms in Wisconsin before I was in darkness until the Moon showed up. Lots of trucks at rest stops and truck stops, waiting for the call to leap into gear, down the road to the depot and drop off points. All those big Harleys are sleeping somewhere, there are other motorcycles but most are alone, resting at stops and moving in a disjointed dance down towards Chicago. Trying to write at this hour is making me sleepy, time for another power nap and an hour of defenselessness from mosquitoes.

How to have a wonderful afternoon with a lady...

Don't y'all worry, I told my wife about it, she insisted I visit, my mother insisted and of course my better nature also said I should ride up, park and go see my aunt Velva. I had to get by the gate guard, which I did, and then found her not at home, but was told she was at lunch on the second floor.

So down I went and found her eating with three other women, and I surprised her - since she never got my morning email. She knew I was thinking of coming from a letter months ago. She said she would change tables so we could eat together and I said I had to feed the parking meter outside. I did that and came back and they told me there was guest parking already. I would move later. We had a nice lunch, I had a berry soup (it was good but not sure why they said it was soup) and I had a hamburger. Velva thought I needed more, but twisting the throttle doesn't take that much energy. We spent the meal catching up a little, then went up to her room.

We talked and laughed, and I was able to show her the videos and pictures of my grandson in Hawaii, and all the stuff my wife and I have been up to since I was found less than necessary in the State of Washington, by the State. We did lots of talking about family, old and current. She was interested in my life and I just rambled on and on. She has tremors now, and she has lots of medicines to take on time. We were interrupted once by a lively lady that laughed and said "You have a visitor" and I looked to see who was coming, but it was the exercise coach tracking down her missing participant and I was the visitor. Okay.

A quick three hours and it was time to move the Trusty Triumph to the guest parking, if I visited more I would have known where it was. She waa going to get me into the right place and moving quickly with her walker, down the elevator out the door and pointing me to my spot Northeast of her building. I got a fair picture of her and her building and her studio on the Eastside overlooking a wooded park. I stayed for dinner and had fried catfish with dreaded (yes, I thought the word was breaded, too) it was pleasantly spicy. A good hug, a suggestion that maybe next year after my wife retires we would drive out and visit again (my wife agrees). Off on my Trusty Triumph.

I had to get fuel, but first a stop to see the Veterans Memorial, and make sure my father and his brother's markers were still there and okay. They were, right beside the engraving of the helicopter my cousin flew, and the paratrooper I was once upon a time. A very good visit to Rochester, Minnesota and with my ninety-eight year old aunt.

Dangerous to ride alone, one might THINK...

Lots on my mind, totally out of control, I packed out after breakfast and hit the road, and had this strange sight in my right mirror - my load was leaving me a bump at a time - I didn't lose anything, but it had shifted to where I was uncomfortable, so after a couple half hearted attempts I stopped and redid the problems. It is so warm that the leather jacket works nicely around the laptop. And I took out the four bungie staps and hooked them up and nothing has moved since, and I could take off my computer and get my call to my wife easily... now if the mosquitoes of fame (here in Minnesota) would leave me alone, all my weight loss would be from no television, recliner, and refrigerator access.

Between struggles with poor packing, I sang hymns to myself - not remembering it was Sunday until I looked at my watch and realized it was Church Choir time, although we don't really do choir in the Summer -- as I sped down the road, the speed limit is seventy-five or not.

One set of thoughts was the beauty of the rich farmland and pasture - the way the cattle know someone is coming to feed them special - the big still too wet spots Farmer Frank was telling about killing corn and slowing beans. I do see honey bees in South Dakota and Minnesota - but not around cell phone towers. Minnesota is planting wind mills and stringing wire to carry the load. It is strange to watch eight slow rotating mills and then see one not moving, I want to ask what its problem is get with it now. Also, wouldn't it look prettier if they were all turning in sync?

Another set of thoughts was the other motorcycle riders going West disappeared during the heat of the day, like there was something to see beside fast roadway. I rode on, I had seen another motorcyclist at a Subway with a Bronze Bison out front yesterday, then today at a lunch stop at a McDonalds in a small town, there he was again, and I said 'I remember you from the Subway.' he thought and agreed. Later on down the road I pulled into a rest stop and saw his motorcycle, he was on a picnic bench sleeping. When I pulled over to rest I fell asleep on the bench seat for a solid hour, waking and going to my Trusty Triumph I found I hadn't removed the key, and no one had removed my motorcycle. When I pulled into the Minnesota Welcome Center I met the young man again and we talked a bit, he is going to Winona.

Thinking about this trip and what I had planned and how it is going so far, I am glad that I don't really lock into a wonderful fantasy, much better to be surprised by good stuff, it doesn seem to be everywhere. One thing I had thought about was meeting famous bloggers - well, the ones I read anyway. But then it is kind of like, chasing movie stars or something. Got to allow them to have their own life, isn't it good enough that we met on the internet, or a shoot somewhere? Would dislike being thought of as a pest, a stalker, or just plain unwanted (one of my favorite songs is "nobody loves me"). Well, I can only stop for a bit to say hello and find out how they are, by Saturday I have places to be. Will see my aunt tomorrow, a cousin the next day and then zoom, zoom, zoom miles to go before I rest. Like I told my nephew, we don't know we will be here again, take advantage of this opportunity. My mother's email tells of her and her sister deciding they didn't want to go to Glacier National Park, they wanted Yellowstone and so got neither. Hope your Summer is going swimmingly out there.

I have to report in soon, then rest...

A good day in South Dakota, helping work the line in Spearfish. I find good people willing to listen and work with us to become better shooters. Am very impressed with the family groups, the children in tune with their parents. I have to move on, hard and long rides ahead, be safe out there, Earl will be riding the roads.

I got a book, Boston's Gun Bible, signed by Boston T. Party, who dropped on his motorcycle to watch and talk to us when we had breaks. Did I mention that his motorcycle was RED? Think I will make some coffee and talk to my wife. G'nite.

Sometimes you have to dazzle them...

I went looking for the Spearfish, South Dakota range for the Appleseed I wanted to see and maybe help out. Found it about half a mile farther than advertised but my odometer might have been off. It is a beautiful range, rifles on the left, pistols on the right, great big bluff behind for a backstop, the Black Hills National Forest surrounding. Covered line for hundred yard bench, benches provided.

There was an elderly gentleman there shooting so I thought I would talk to him. I asked about the Appleseed Shoot, and he said this was where it would be tomorrow. Since I looked like I must know something he asked if I would shoot his rifle, he couldn't get it to hit the golf ball beside some spinners out in the range, about twenty-five yards or so. Well, it was a 22LR AR of some kind, with a scope -- he had just purchased it Thursday off the shelf and was thinking of giving it to his grandson, but it wasn't hitting and he couldn't tell where it was hitting. So I shot once and we couldn't tell where it had hit, and I suggested that we try the paper target out at the hundred yard line. Well, that shot was off the paper but low, so I could dial the scope up and get on the paper. And we know what an inch is at a hundred meters, and a 1/4 MOA click gets you how many?

Unfortunately, under the shelter the Sun wasn't lightening the letters for which way to turn, so I twisted the wrong way (like he told me it was supposed to go), saw my shot go twice as far bad as that last on in elevation, but right on in deflection.

Took the rifle into the sunshine, read the proper instructions and clicked off the elevation and got close to center on the target. A few more and I was right on and tearing it up. Wheeler44 taught me everything I know about optics - but I was paying attention. So the older gentleman asks if I can hit the yellow golf ball. So I swing on to it and pull the trigger - one of those hard to squeeze and then it goes off type. I hit the golf ball, and he says hit it again laughing at the way it shot off down range, so I did. Hit it again and it skitted off. I put the rifle on safe and went down to check the targets and the golf ball, I couldn't see that I had hit the ball solid, but I didn't know what to look for. I took it back to show him the target now it could hit center and the golf ball. He was happy and threw the golf ball out there again and told me to shot it some more. So I did, hit skittled off, hit skittled off, hit skittled off, hit skittled off and then I was out of bullets and the golf ball was behind some grassy knoll. It had been fun.

We had been talking, he was a Korean War vet, flew F86s, went into aviation maintenance. Had grandchildren going into the service, some in, and had seen the flyer for the Appleseed, and pointed out to me that $80 or $50 for a walk on was a bit much. His club only costs $16 a year. I pointed out to him that he could bring youth and women to shoot for free only needed a rifle and ammunition. He looked at the Appleseed a little differently after that. It was a great unexpected gift on this trip, meeting a man with a rifle, bullets and target and needing my help. My pleasure, I brought the targets and golf ball back and saw how the hits impacted and the almost exits were more noticable than the entrance wounds.

When you care enough to find the very best...

Go to the library, this one is in Sturgis, South Dakota. And the internet access is free for thirty minutes and it didn't take me that long to zip in the two addresses, leave sign that I have passed this way on FaceBook, Appleseed email, and now on the blog, my blog. Just one of those almost homeless types. So with all this information I am prepared to mount the Trusty Triumph again, and leave town before the sunsets and the Harley riders find me. They aren't at the Public Library.

Well take a break, you earned it...

Washed and dried the clothes I haven't tossed away, looking at my luggage, I am still in wonder that I have so much I don't NEED. Although I am resting I have CNN on the television so I can figure out how President Obama is going to save the world since he couldn't save the Gulf of Mexico, the illegal aliens in Arizona (Roswell is in New Mexico). My neice's husband sent an email asking about my schedule, I replied and he hasn't, he spends more time on his rides with his children than on the internet. Went through the entire blog roll, checked all my email accounts and FaceBook, so I have nothing more to do with the computer. Logging off.

So how do you talley success...

We started off about six thirty, into Yellowstone and adventure. Sure we had to wait for the construction area, but we talked to other visitors, checked the bikes and looked at great cliff. There were large herds of bison in the morning mist, and not enough parking areas for the gawkers. Zooming on, I catch an elk, they spot a black bear - monitored by a Park Ranger and lots of folks looking and snapping pictures.

We headed for Tower Falls, and again were impressed with the raw power and the quick video is filled with the roar of the falling water. It is good to get off the motorcycles to walk around and see the sights. Although when riding behind my nephew, and he was following a work truck, suddenly the truck went into the oncoming left lane, and my nephew followed, and I looked but couldn't see any reason for the move, the shadows hid the rightside of the highway. Then I saw two large black shaggy shadows moving on delicate hoofs across the asphalt - I moved left, never having been so close to those heavy heads with horns. Can't buy that kind of ride, nope you have to go and share the road with the wild bunch.

We fueled up a last time before leaving the park, on to the Northeast Gateway and the Bear's Tooth mountain (which one it is I never did figure out - saw a couple that could have that name). But a late breakfast break before tackling the climb to the roof of this world. We had been talking to strangers along the ride through the park, they admired our rides (or were envious of the adventure). One man asked about the age of my Triumph, and we talked, he thought it might have trouble with the altitude. This only added to the stress of the ride, my nephew had mentioned maybe having ice on the road, my brother that we were going above the treeline and it would be cold (they have heated gloves - they do live in Colorado). So back on the road and up the mountains. Light car traffic, lots of motorcycles coming down and going up. Higher and higher and higher - I started to think we were going to be on level with all the surrounding mountain ridges, and I was right.

There we were on top, and the questioner about my motorcycle caught up to us with his party in his van. He told me that three years earlier he had motorcycled over the pass, but it was cold, raining and foggy, and not one ride he wanted to repeat. I was thankful that we were blessed with perfect weather. My nephew got a picture of him and Triumph Sprint by the sign, his club has a fifty pass pin for those that collect those experiences. The tight loops on the switchbacks as we climbed seemed to be cut into snow piles - six to eight feet tall - future clean cold water. I was having thoughts of crashing into them, but then realized they would be crusty frozen, not fluffy frozen. There were lots of those winding loops going up, very cool leaning, and since the snow was high you couldn't always catch what was coming in the other direction. Across the roof of the world, even or above the surrounding mountains, no ice on roadway but for sure it was cool. We stop at an overlook and watch chipmunks trained to beg from tourists, talked to the Canadian riders, two groups - one of which we would run into in Red Lodge and I would ride with later on I-90.

More tight loops on the descending highway, and the lean is fun, needs more practice - one doesn't lean that far often on open highways, but I do remember those tight turns in the mountains of West Virginia, back roads rule! It was a great ride, as we stopped at Red Lodge to part our ways we talked about how we got to do this ride, when it was mentioned that I was going to ride, and my brother emailed his interest back, and then my nephew chimed in. It was a great time to be together and riding like we like to, and the weather cooperated so brilliantly. I went on after the picture taking, towards Billings, then Sheridan (has a free internet station in the Welcome Center) and finally to Gillette to find a place to rest. Then I lost the first write up - which was magnificent (I know, but maybe I was too tired to do it justice), so I wrote the following brief message because my mother would want to know if none of the other faithful readers would. Washing clothes and planning next ride. Every day is Saturday, except Sunday, when you have no job.

Well you go to bed after a great day motorcycling, instead of typing a couple of pages of the adventure then hitting the wrong key and making it all disappear. Bear's Tooth mountains are worth the time and trouble, one of the best rides. My brother and nephew and I parted at Red Lodge after having ice cream (his diet starts tomorrow he says) and talking with some Canadian bikers, that I would meet later on I-90 and ride with them a bit. Yeah, post the picture, save the tale for after a solid night's rest... okay.

It is all about the ride, or is it?

The major advantage in doing the park, from a motel or campsite on a motorcycle is parking everywhere - you could put three or four bikes where one caged vehicle would go, and then there is the ride - puts a big smile on my face - even when my nephew told his Dad about the loose gravel on the merge ramp and I slid across it so well - demonstrating several laws one shouldn't be breaking - none of which were passed in Congress. Just hold on until the tire grips and then roll on the throttle and straighten up and fly right.

Don't forget to flash your ID when using the Senior Pass the Park Service sold you, or you will have to be informed of your lapse by the uniformed employee, sigh. Not my fault they didn't put a picture on it with my birthdate. She did allow me in, do you think she just wanted to talk to me? Nah, it was the bike she was looking at.

My brother and his son were using radio to talk the entire time, one took lead and one trail and they wondered what I was thinking and stopped to check when I forgot to turn off my turn signal, or wiggled the Trusty Triumph in happiness. There is a lot of happiness in the quick tour that we did. For someone from Western Washington the trees aren't big enough, there are plenty of them, growing, but not BIG ones - they did have a major forest fire, lots of downed dead wood, lots of standing dead wood, but life is growing up all around. Wish I looked as magnificent as those big bull bison, posing for tourists and chewing cud. Eat your heart out Universal Studios, you got nothing on the wild in the West. It was discussed that spoiled products of entertainment industry theme parks would think that the geyers and bubbling mud pools and steam vents and hot springs were all faked and just not up to video game and movie magnificence. Doesn't Old Faithful know it is ten minutes late? Is that all the geyser is about - and then it does blow up and out and you are so late with the camera and missing the big show while trying to get it on the little Canon.

I did wonder, since my parents did a lot of National Parks with us as children, how we missed Yellowstone, just the Canyon with the falls and the raging Yellowstone River, the deeply cut canyon with the views you can listen to as you watch the power passing, falling and cutting deeper daily. I am sure there were pretty women everywhere I went, but I am getting so old I never noticed, always looking for the next big antlered elk (how do they hold their heads up with that rack?) and the herd of bison, the wallowing bulls and the free flying eagles were almost everywhere - which means lots of stuff I didn't get to see in the woods, on the hills and behind those rocks.

I had a farm grown bison burger, a BIG burger for lunch, my brother power napped in the empty lounge and my nephew wrote a post card - as I thought about telling y'all about the flashing bison crossing sign, and the warning about the wild animals (which I thought were snide remarks about ill bred tourists leaving trash). In the end there isn't really anything I can share except that you should have been here - the weather was wonderful - from the foggy morning at the bubbling clear water pools looking for sign of animals if they weren't present. They even have a book for us about what animals poo'd like which. I saw the elk prints all over the paint pot areas - and piles of their passing. To the clear blue skies and high enough mountain passes with signs of crossing the Continental Divide - did it several times on one stretch of road. Short stretch of road is under construction, thirty minute delay for one way traffic, and there is lots of traffic, bring your own porta-potty, or wait for major lodge areas with tourists in mind. The population pressure is amazing in the Summer I understand, but only when stopped did it seem like a lot of people caught up to us.

The Old Faithful Inn is a man made cool wonder, hand worn wood railings warm me - I believe that rifles that have wooden stocks have soul, so you can imagine that I was really pleased with this rustic palace. I do know we walked a lot for being bad bikers, that the posted speed limit is forty-five but the roads and bikes can easily do more if those other folks weren't almost always slowing down to look at the animals and the fishermen. One doesn't have hunting, but the fishermen are in almost Heaven for swift moving waters, holding that trout that just can't resist a well cast fly. Just sleep in the camper on your truck, going from turn out to turn out through the park at different fishing spots. There are so many good looking ones.

After about eight hours we were worn out, planned the ride and the exit for the next day, and returned to the motel for refreshing and renewal. Isn't a vacation supposed to be restful? Why do we want to do so much more? Bear Tooth in the morrow - someone said one shouldn't miss the opportunity, as I told my nephew when he asked if we should stop and look at something - we may only be here once take advantage of it.

So what do you do until the cows come home...

Just fussing around, deleted pictures (they are saved elsewhere), deleted messages on Facebook, got hung up and frustrated on FarmVille (wonder why I keep returning), find on the Appleseed forum only sixteen members, and start to wonder if one day I will ever get on there alone - being a nightowl in strange time zones it could happen.

I open the curtains to look upon the quiet town of West Yellowstone, it had people and players all over it last evening, strolling cowboy dressed band and chorus, tourists that looked surprisingly just like us - didn't know that you had made the trip but it could have been your double. The town so quiet right now, five here, and soon those from other places will be stirring and readying for this day's adventure. I find my brother's laptop turned on earlier - another sound sleeper?

Right after I post this I had best check on the Park, and find out where we should go that I have to see. The bikes are waiting so patiently, wonder what they talked about last night, the Pacific Coast has seen many, many miles (over 180 thousand!) but the Trusty Triumph has dumped its owner more?

Just a minute as I take my boots off...

they still have mud from Shawn's garden, it has been raining heavy in the Northwest. I am in West Yellowstone and waiting on my brother and his son. Rooms were tough to get, I have a pretty big room, lots of room for more people but we aren't doing an Appleseed here, so I have it all to myself.

I left about eight yesterday, trip to Idaho was swift and only got sprinkled on a couple of times. I figured out how to go to the farm I was visiting for dinner, without going to a range first. Saw the whole family and had a fine dinner and conversation (every once in a while I think I should be more sociable and then I meet someone no one should ever have to). I even allowed Larry to pose on my Trusty Triumph for his biker buddies - the comments on Facebook, show that my bike still has all that stuff I lost somewhere along the way. I then negotiated the high plateau of Idaho, until I could get on I-90 and barrel down to Missoula for shelter.

As it had been cloudy all day the light seemed to leave the Earth a bit early, and the valley passes and the rugged mountains surrounding went deep black, but the sky held pale grey - what was up with that? Then I get a break in the clouds and the Moon smiles upon me blasting down the darkness at about seventy plus - must have been going down hill. I did stop to call my worried wife waiting patiently. And she didn't pick up, so I called the house number, and she didn't pick up. Time for me to find shelter. At about midnight I was clean and under the blankets. I woke a couple times after getting a solid three hours, and did some light exercises for the ride wired muscles. Went back to sleep, woke and made coffee and went back to sleep. Finally, I had to get up, get packed back on the bike and down the road again. The hotel had instant Quaker Oats, a package of each flavor and toasted English muffin to hold me until MickyD's somewhere. Called my wife and she answered, she isn't that worried about me.

Beautiful day to ride, the Sun shines, the sky is blue, and Montana has vistas that go on forever. Looking straight on down the valley for about seven miles thinking of adjusting fire on those fleeing targets of opportunity. Never mind, but it surely is a long way off, and the mountains are grand. Biggest thing about riding my motorcycle in Montana is that I once had a library worker that had ridden all over Montana with his motorcycles, and I finally remembered his full name, which I can't share. But the first time I prepared to ride to Minnesota on my bike he told me all to watch out for (fierce winds whipping the riders around). When I came back he soaked up all I could tell him about how it was now. Everything about what had changed. Not a lot of motorcyclists going my way, they seem to be going where I came from, in full leathers or coveralls. Montana refuses to acknowledge warm Summers, a decided effort to keep Californians out of the state. In the Winter they just freeze the tan Sunshown softies on the ski slopes then allow them to huddle around a fire with a mug of warmth telling tales of how tough they are. The real folks in Montana keep piling up wood for the big one and rescuing the fools doing adventure snow boarding and skiing - those avalanche starters extraordinaire.

I got to thinking of Oahu and California because of the long open highways without tons of people packed at twenty-five miles per hour, speed limit is seventy-five and bubbling. Downhill the Trusty Triumph was humming along making me wonder what a speed limit was for -- the poor trucks had some severe restrictions, four miles of six percent grade isn't good for fully loaded rigs, the brakes just aren't going to do it. The only slowdowns are for construction, and they are rebuilding bridges and roadways all over Idaho and Montana - and still the traffic is going well because there aren't too many folks crowding the pavement.

Montana must have more fly fishing than you could shake a pole at, the rivers and creeks (which in the Southwest would still be called rivers) are full with water, cold rushing water, from the mountains and recent rains, and there are turn outs for parking along the water so you can go cast that favorite fly out there. My personal favorite of a block of C4 or TNT wouldn't work well, the fish would be way down stream too quickly. You should see the tourist rafters, they are flying and the rapids are awesome - they have vests and helmets they should get home to tell about it.

Everyone seems to value space, even small vacation places seem to be sited on acres and acres. The big MT, is big and empty, but that has to do with that wicked Winter wiping everything clean like it was after the glaciers retreated.

Being on two wheels and touring is cool, this is a big state - the whole West is big. But I keep taking my hat off to those people peddling and hiking along the roadways, there isn't anything for many more miles and many more moons in that direction at that speed. And I thought I was carrying too much, some of these real bikers have three and four bags on their bikes and a trailer pulled behind. I know they are burning more calories than I, maybe not as much as the motorcycle but a lot of those just warm my leg behind the chaps.

Well, I leave you with a public picture of Larry on the Trusty Triumph, I kept the keys in my pocket - he was a dirt biker, they do strange things to fine machines.

On the road again.... Willie Nelson and I...

but then I don't listen to anything except the purr of the Trusty Triumph. I am packed out - will be tossing stuff all along the way, by the time I get to Chicago I should be fighting weight, my father's travel advice was half as many clothes, and twice as much film. Digital camera in pocket forget the film, still too many clothes.

Mileage reads 17736.7 miles and I leave at 8 AM PDST, heading East, going East. Time to put the boots on, chaps (?) Father's Day gift from wife, and leather jacket, gloves, sunglasses (???), and helmet. Bye, on my way to visit my mother and lots of folks in fly over country.

Happy Fathers' Day out there in cyber land...

Great day, for me, cause I am a father - certainly not the best, you should never ask if I have regrets about bad choices - not enough room on the screen. But then I have more wonderful memories and a son that I am in awe of periodically. So, my wife is making me breakfast, we will go to church and then out to celebrate being parents.

I caught something on CBS Sunday Morning, tape delayed of course, and the man says "don't be Mom's assistant, be a DAD". Works for me.

From Appleseed Forum, For DADS

I didn't get to shoot with my Dad, but he did teach me about guns and motorcycles, and he certainly showed me a fine figure of a father to become. Some lessons were only from memory after I had made a mistake and I re-thought it.

The picture is of a Appleseed crew, and fathers and their children that have followed them into instructing marksmanship and honoring our History and heritage. Yep, Happy Father's Day!

Okay it is offical, Earl is going to be rolling on ....

Monday, seems that Freeborn County, Minnesota had thirteen tornadoes yesterday and that is a sign! That is the county I was born in, first fell then jumped out of second story windows, where I didn't learn hockey - although I do remember tall snow and ice skating very young. But that weather is just clearing out, I hope so I don't get soaked on the Trusty Triumph, since I haven't found my rain gear yet.

I unloaded and repacked all the stuff for Appleseeds, except the rifles and ammunition. That picture is it behind the Chin up bar in the garage, AQT targets, tools, more targets, more tools, handouts, bag half full of tee shirts. The notebooks in front of the weights are full of information about History, Appleseed, shooting, M1s, Slings, and my Remington Rifles. Putting that all behind me for about six weeks.

I have the laptop being backed up, before I get too much on it. Electronic death I learned about years ago, like playing Dungeons and Dragons, don't get too in love with your character - the Dungeon Master may kill you off sooner than you expect. You have to save in order to start again from that point, in video games.

So, I expect to post from the road when I can, and I do start on Monday and if you would kindly send me a contact address and telephone number -- remember that this computer that had all that data was wiped out. My email is wmearl2@hotmail.com you should know that I will be riding fast and hard, but I do like breaks to get off and stretch my legs, take pictures, talk, drink more coffee, talk, and soak up the moment where ever I am. Church tomorrow, Home Owners Association meeting today, and jogs for both days between the rain drops.

PS have just found my rain gear - my wife had been using it for clamming on the coast, back to me for packing on the motorcycle - hope I never have to use it.

Always learnin'

I am packing out for the road trip, but I need to finish a POI for Appleseed that will improve my time management. I have been slowed by something and I didn't start Appleseeds slow, something must have happened. There also has been discussion about Rapid Fire AQTs (RF/AQT), and I thought about using them to increase the shooters' pace of engagement of targets. One suggestion of ten rounds on a sighting square done at a Rifleman's Cadence struck me as a good technique for practice, once you have the Natural Point of Aim, shooting at that cadence is a good reinforcer.

One of the discussions on a forum got wound around my technique is better than yours, and so I signed off saying I will use rapid fire when it fits the target engagement, and a bayonet charge when the targets haven't been hit. so I want to write the Bayonet Charge AQT for those folks out of patience, ammunition and skills. One writer said he could just see Americans getting up from the prone position and charging the target line with bayonets gleaming... or something like that. Well, having invented the BC/AQT doesn't mean it will really happen, but I could use it as a gentle threat. Back to time management.

I don't really think anyone hates me, and there isn't a conspiracy to take all the pictures and data (all my Quicken numbers for years and years). But to me it is an excellent reminder of how fleeting and empty the virtual world is - and in the end what counts isn't that you kept the numbers or the photographs, but that you have lived and loved and are welcome in far away places and at home. y'all be good out there, it works so much better than bad.

There are people out there that hate me...

I came home from a great evening spent with a charming companion (my wife) and was showing her somethings on the computer, and I found that I had no more operating system. A complete destruction of my virtual status in the binary coded world of the internet, sigh. It must have been the Godless Communist Chinese, the oh so God Bound Moslem Terrorist or some hacker from some high school set on bringing back barbarity for the complete distruction of civilization (not understanding why civilized conduct can built empires and uncivilized conduct can't get you much more than drive-by shootings no one deserves).

F10 and start all over, but that means that Microsoft becomes in charge again, do you think it was the Federal Government looking for a new way to modify my behavior. Do they know who I voted for in the last election, do they need to know?

Of course I am typing this on the laptop, which will accompany me on the Trusty Triumph. And I have another computer that sits off line waiting for the end of the world so it can get hooked up and save us all. And there is the computer in the closet, waiting for me to pull the abacas out for calculations, or the fine Ricoh slide rule, model no. 159 from my first attendance at college in 1966. Yes, I do know that slide rules and computers don't get the exact same answers to all computations, but then I am also a little off, although the doctor says I am in good health (for an old fat man) and I can wait until December to see him again and have a safe ride.

I did get an appreciative email from this weekend's shoot, always nice to know something I did was right - I have done so much wrong.

Now I am angry, all my pictures were wiped out with the Rebuild, luckily God loves me and I will die and leave this mess behind.

Good Morning, what stirs you?

Luther Blanchard of Acton, Mass. was a fifer for Captain Isaac Davis's Minuteman Company, and led the company down to the North Bridge of Concord and he played the stirring "The White Cockade". And I don't read music so I had no idea if it was stirring or not, sigh. But Google it and sure enough you will find it mentioned and what it sounds like when played put that on your play list and remember that Captain Davis, Private Hosmer were killed in the volley that wounded Luther Blanchard, and that he would play on the rest of the day, but die of the wound. What kind of men were the men that stood up to the Regulars that day? Hmm, find an good book and read about them, and listen to the music. What price Liberty? How long after planting does it take to grow the tree of Liberty?

What a beautiful weekend... I could have been riding...

But I was Shoot Bossing instead, three hour drive from home, stayed in Oregon for the night, lots of teaching, challenging and learning done. Had a great time and the pay was unbelievable. Did figure out as we told the tale of April 19, 1775 - that the reason Civilization has collapsed is that we don't worry about the future generations, we don't even think about them - and those that stood up to the King's Army did think about the future generations and what Liberty means (it wasn't a Jeep then). As I drove home I smiled at all the motorcyclists and know that I will be joining them soon, even if my sister thinks I am (or could be more so) a jerk - I haven't been the greatest brother - certainly no one should depend on me and my schedule. Take care out there, God loves you - always.

Government shuts down off shore drill rigs...

It couldn't be true, that the Federal Government is shutting down off-shore oil rigs because they think there might be another disaster waiting to happen, that would be like creating the TSA to monitor baby booties to protect against a repeat of 9/11 - one would think the government would be smarter than that, wouldn't one?

Does Overkill mean anything to anyone in power?

Just suppose that Mexico decides to claim the Gulf of Mexico for its own - since we aren't fishing or drilling there any longer... okay, I know that Mexico is going to conquer the United States of America by amnesty for illegal activities conducted on American soil and a higher birthrate and a large population that won't learn Spanish as quickly as it becomes first on the computer answering machines... think it is time for SMACKDOWN and a nap before the trip to Oregon and the Appleseed in Estacada.

Jet Lag is real... and now to a word from Earl...

I thought I did alright yesterday, edged and hacked at the front yard, got ready for today and the backyard and a second swing through the front yard. And then my wife came home, we talked and ate supper and I crashed.... until seven thirty this morning. So I will blame jet lag and then I started thinking about traveling (no, I don't know how NFO does it) but in all the science fiction books, how many time travelers crash as their body tries to adjust to the new reality? Okay, take time out of it, go to a different planet with a different central hot gaseous globe, with a different atmosphere - how is your body going to react? No, you aren't really in charge of all the functions of your body - most of it is on auto-pilot, otherwise you would forget to breath when you get really excited.

I am watching Uruguay vs. France from Capetown on CBC, cable from Canada -- my mother's birth country (Uruguay) so I am for them, although I don't mind fighting along side the French and training with them. But the yard needs my help so I will have lunch as I watch and then sharpen the blades on the lawnmower and get back to cleaning up the front yard. Maybe even hacking the neighbor's front, he and his wife are in Hawaii.

I have good or almost the best of reasons to stop cutting the backyard - although I got most of it hacked down and edged up a bit. When I moved one of the Recycle Containers, I found what happens when Man is gone, from the Earth - wasn't that on Discovery or History Channel. Well, I took my photos, replaced the container and checked later, sure enough the mother is back and sitting. Life is good, have at it!

Well, I have to go get some milk and lunch meat...

I have to get a little milk for breakfast, used water for my gruel today. I have some other little stuff to get also. I was dropped off by my wife to pick up the Trusty Triumph, as I waited for attention I wandered looking at the stuff that I don't need and much that I don't want, wasn't anything that I had to have except for my motorcycle with new tires, and it was rolled out running. Just looking at it raised my Happy, getting the helmet on and getting on the bike was even better. Talked a bit to the mechanic about the brakes and such. I had talked to the dealer/owner inside about Triumphs on the islands, and about riding a Honda around Hawaii, the Big Island. He wanted to know who I had rented from, I told him. All part of his business world. Wanted to know if I had been on vacation, since I don't work now it is all vacation.

I rode home, missing most of the heavy rains that have been pouring on us, we even had thunder storms and lightening yesterday -- but it is drying out a bit and we are going to have a great weekend. Now to check the mail, go shopping and then start my yard work, seems the weeds have won in most of the gardens. Always another opportunity to pull it all back together - just eight miles that I had walked before Hawaii - it sure was nicer and faster, flying the Trusty Triumph home instead of walking the same route.

So how did Civilization die... how did I miss it...

It wasn't presented as something to be concerned about on local media. Actually, all media had a hand in killing it but they did it for the best of reasons - they actually cared. I don't have any more time to work on this, I have to stay on the pile of Survivors, don't want voted off of this island, if they asked me something I would find myself tongue-tied. The best example I can give you is the Brady Anti-gun group, who are sure that removing the firearms will prevent shootings. And as long as one has no firearm, one can't shoot. That is true - but civilized man once had firearms and knew how to properly use them - now no firearms and no civilized man that can use them - the end of civilization.

Locally, an uncivilized man attacks a Latte Stand, binds and threatens the young woman employee with death and flees. The uncivilized owner/boss says she did everything right (having no right to defend the coffee stand or her honor or life) and that he will get that uncivilized man. The police are alarmed - in the ten previous uncivilized conducts (robbery of coffee shops) the uncivilized man has never shown so much violence and danger to other people. The media's answer is for the uncivilized man to go back to the country of his origin and leave us alone. No, he isn't Hispanic, but certainly he couldn't have grown up in an America that has law and order and manners and was CIVILIZED - but then maybe we aren't either. When the parks aren't safe for single women and children, when children are missing when walking to school, when uncivilized people get drunk, drugged out of their minds, or are posted as examples of celebrity.... where is that mythical veneer of civilized conduct?

Funny how hurried you are to get home...

when you get there you want to unpack and fall asleep, turn on the theme from "Peter Gunn" read the comments from Tam's post about the Top Shot show, feel like I am not alone in under-appreciating the efforts of the History Channel and REALITY TELEVISION - I think much of Kelly, but then trying to explain it to my son, shows me that the people of the gun aren't speaking the same language as the remainder of the viewing audience. The sponsors of the show aren't companies in the firearms industry are they? I liked reading that someone says Mike is a good guy, has anyone save me figured out that Barbara Walters questions about Castro's Love Life, were where REALITY TELEVISION gets its style? I have learned more about 1903's than I will ever be able to use. Gosh, I have got to win that LOTTO prize. Remind me to post my post about how we all missed the Destruction of Civilization, expecting so much more screaming anguish and getting only "how did you feel as they took away all common sense and left you good intentions?"

So what did you see today...

From the seat of a red Honda Shadow, I saw almost everything on Hawai'i, the Big Island. I found coffee plants growing for the Kona Coffee beans, I found old and newer lava beds, beautiful tropical gardens, really nice twisty roads to wind down and up, I visited the National Volcano Park, the Art Museum there (the glass and ceramic volcano art was great). I was protected from breathing the Sulfur Fumes by the Park Service - they don't know I once visited Pittsburgh when it always smelled like eggs... but they cleaned it up. Anyway, I did enjoy the view of steam vents, venting Sulfur Dioxide and miles of old cold lava - didn't see any hot rocks, sigh.
But on with the ride, find Hilo, and the jungle side of the island - really lush, with deep gullies, curved bridges and downs and ups. I had hot Sun and bright blue sky, threatening storm clouds, fog, rain and so much fun in the Rifleman t-shirt. Only two hundred and forty-one miles, and three fuel stops because I never knew where the next gas station would be nor how many miles this bike burned on a tank. Very nice ride, met the wife of the man that rented me the bike in the morning as I turned it in. Nice little business, hope they continue to do well. My wife was a bit nervous, tried calling me on the cell phone, but we met for dinner anyway, did I ever mention I only have the cell phone to call out with, not to answer.

Well, I am back, we leave tomorrow -- this vacation is over and it has been great, really. I wonder how many years are supposed to go by before one figures out vacations are for resting up? I finally saw the show, Top Shot, I think it was called. Interesting, but the stuff I wanted to know they don't cover, and the camera doesn't reveal it all because the director isn't a shooter, the director is a reality television specialist... it is okay, Obama isn't watching and it doesn't really matter, does it?

D-Day 1944...

After a twenty-four hour weather delay

General Eisenhower orders the attack.





But you know that, the rest is History. If he had waited another month, it wouldn't have worked as well.



I got up early enough, felt like I should do more and put on the jogging shoes and took off on a short gentle jog through the lava beds, the King's Highway and the golf cart course...

I did stop and talk a bit with a walker viewing the ancient pictogryphs (always wonder if we are only looking at ancient graffiti) ah, he told me that he wasn't brave enough to jog through the lava fields. What he meant was his parents hadn't raised a fool. I jogged on far enough to prove my parents had, and tripped on a rock, fell and cut my knee, arm, scraped skin off my palm and remembered how brave I was. I changed to the golf cart track and bled slowly and wondered at the wonderful weather and what time the motorcycle rental would open, nine-thirty. Saw the younger portion of our party heading off to Starbucks for breakfast and returned to the condo for a shower, shave and bandages. This stuff never happens in books and on television does it?

Time to rest...

Okay, a beautiful day to test oneself; in the water, on two hungry wheels and finally beating feet to the finish. I just gathered extra Sunbeams and boiled lobster looks, got almost a first name basis with the shuttle bus driver. Lots of great performances, even more astounding were the great numbers of also swam, biked, and ran. Then the official results and honors, clean up, nap and go to dinner. Great day thank the Lord, everyone should have one or two.

Gosh, they start stirring early around here...

Get up at four for shower, I will be returning the support vehicle after dropping off the competitors. And except for tripping on a curb in the darkness as they pump up their bike tires and leave their bikes prept with gel mixture and water.... the stuff one does to get through. They will do well after the start gun in five minutes. I did talk to my mother and brother in North Carolina on Skype.com. Will be taking everyone to the Hotel and the finish line, I have three cameras to get finishing pictures with... I hope some of them are worthy. It was tough getting pictures in the darkness. Much easier to get the breakfasting baby on Skype than his father on bike preparation, but I had to try.

Yes, I could ride a motorcycle in Hawai'i...

Talked to the owner/operator of a two wheels for rent operation, pretty red Honda Shadow screamed at me... and I was listening. Most of all I enjoyed the conversation with the owner, how he looked at his business and how he is doing. May be Monday I can break free and RIDE! Cause Tuesday we start the return trips to Washington.



Looking at my email, someone needs a Shoot Boss in Estacada, Oregon, and looking forward another two weeks Spearfish, South Dakota has an Appleseed when I will be close enough to reach it. I only have four Appleseeds so far, and three of them as a Shoot Boss. It does make riding harder and faster but that is what life is about isn't it? Showing up is most of life, you haven't missed me have you? My brother is in North Carolina visiting our mother, he rode his Pacific Coast.





There is entirely too much news around here, but since I was once on the pointy edge of the spear I understand wanting to know what is going on all the time. Gosh, I think I lived on Headline News refreshing every thirty minutes - no wonder I had no one visiting me. Still, the story about the stolen perfect game was too good. When I saw the video of the Detroit pitcher beating the runner to first and looking up to the bad call of safe in front of him - and he sadly smiled - to me the perfect GAME had been made - just one of those that the record books could ignore. It is a GAME, it was played the best possible and the pitcher had more grace than most of "ME FIRST" America. I didn't need the talking heads and such telling me what they thought, I didn't need to know anything beyond the moment I saw, nothing else mattered. There are still humble heroes out there and I am glad, we are going to need them.

What does it take to be the champion? super power...

I know that I do like fine guns, beautiful steel and wood, fine design and engraving - I don't buy any of that kind, they always seem too expensive. I admire those that can build the rifle they want we need more craftsmen, but all I do is shoot and not that well, just good enough. When I want to shoot really well I have to buckle down and pay a price in practice, ammunition and nudging myself towards perfection, which I have always been taught is an affront to God, although the striving is encouraged.

I was watching lots of people preparing for this Triathlon 70.3 and enjoying the glimpses of a life I have never lived. They are serious folks, expensive bicycles, tuned by professionals, checking the routes and such. Talking past performances and expectations for Saturday I have seen some of this in road races and marathons - but never having been anywhere close to the leading edge this smaller group is more a semi-pro elite than I ever competed with (or behind). Still, very interesting to watch the preparations.

I certainly wish them all the best - it takes physical, mental and spiritual preparation to push yourself to the best performance your body can produce. You can spend extra dollars on clothing, shoes, bike, and drink - coaching and computer analysis of your technique and then spy out the opposition so they don't sneak up on you, or phsyc you out and make you run their game plan. Still, in the end it will be the one that has their best effort in focus for the target. Like a RWVA instructor told our shooters once, you could spend a lot of money on your equipment and have some great stuff, and still forget the six steps for taking the shot, and expensively miss.

Vacations are great for recovering from Relentless REALITY!!!!

All I have to do is drive support for two triathelon racers, play with a one year old baby and humor my wife. After I leave Hawaii I will only have to humor my wife, prepare the house for my absense and pay off the bills, before I depart. So I have no relentless REALITY to live up to... this retired stuff is way too easy. In some ways I like this fine tree, alive, visible and something to put in a corner - alive but don't expect too much from it. This is Earl signing off... well, until my mind kicks back into gear - having heard too much news of naught - breaking right before my eyes - rather watch the mongoose run around catching birds.

It is June already, the motorcycle trip starts soon...

I am on the second of two Hawaiian islands in my life, this one is Hawai'i. Black lava rock all around, cold rock in this area save for the Sun. We are staying in a condo for a few days, very nice way to visit the islands, I have had that recommended to me before. I had a bit of a problem hooking up to the wi-fi, but persevered. I am getting too old for all this new improved stuff. I will be back to postcards soon.

I do confess to having used my cellphone once, good conversation and then I could turn it off until I need rescued or a police criminal investigation team. Just talked to my brother in Louisville, Kentucky - day two of his ride to visit our mother, he has only four hundred miles to do tomorrow. Did five hundred today, he doesn't ride through the night like I do, but then he always had more sense.