Archive for January 19th, 2008
Family Tradition
Our guitar picker, Darryl, as his dad calls him, also plays with another band, Johnson Grass. Two of their band members have known their ways around Harley-Davidson motorcycles since “magneto” was a household word. So, with the hot granny and I being stone Honda riders, you can see why Darryl turned up on our doorstep astride a
Yamaha V-Star.
OK, maybe that is, truly, “neither here, nor there”, but playing rally gigs and associating with bikers sparked an old passion.
Yep, Darryl is one of those who rode “back in the day” and has a reawakened interest in riding.
I’ll tell you, it’s gratifying to see someone with his fresh enthusiasm for motorcycling. He even has that new rider smell.
He has taken a thoughtful approach to re-entering the motorcycling world, too, putting hours and miles in the saddle at his own speed, riding his own ride, building confidence in himself and familiarizing himself with his machine.
Now, he says, he’s ready to join the party, so, Saturday having dawned as clear and cold as predicted, we rode around the bay to Ingleside to support the
“Bikers for Baija 5th Annual Memorial Run” benefiting the
South Texas Children’s Home. Baija was a little girl lost to violence; her family organizes the event.
This was my first time to attend. There were club members and independent riders from all around the local area and from as far as 90 miles away, bundled up against the chill wind, come to ride the 160 mile poker run and participate in the auction in support of the Home the Simmons family.
It goes without saying that an important part of any fund raiser in Texas is great barbecue.
Darryl and I took off in between groups of riders, he, being less experienced, in the lead, ready for me to critique his technique and offer riding tips.
Along the way, we had a good time meeting and talking with other riders and the locals. At a stop in Fulton, near Copano (CO-pan-o) Bay, we got our first ever exposure to belt sander racing.
Yes, that’s the end of an accordion you see, blurred by the speed of its trip past he camera via belt sander.
The belt sanders run in a wooden trough. Shower curtain hangers strung on wire allow the green extension cords to play out as the sanders race down the track. It seemed like some dream born of beer, boredom and youthful experience with slot cars come true.
Our need to be back in Ingleside within the hour prevented us from making a closer inspection, but now that we know where the action is…
Making the turn-around point across Copano Bay, we jammed back to ground zero in time for me to find out that I am still unlucky in gambling. Of course, I did have a good time while working off a little karma by supporting the cause.
Bikers went all-out for the kids, donating back several items won at auction.
We decided we had done all we could without showing off, so we shook some hands, kissed some cheeks, hugged some necks and twisted the wick.
A good time was had by us.
