Kratzen vom Rathaus

People Who Love Bees But Not AT&T

There is quite a crowd here, at least a dozen people drawn in by this. Everyone but the cyclist in this picture is a wanna-bee. As usual, no one suspects I am part of it.
Go figure. I'm a woman, not in business clothes, have no bike, have no child, waiting near the 'axon' while occasionally typing into my hiptop- I even pulled out and attached the camara to take this picture... I'd think I was darn suspicious, particularly given that so many of the characters are women. Perhaps it is my secret superpower to remain inconspicuous when I want to. The best was when people started gathering and one person actually said "well, there's four of us now." Ok, by my math it was five. Tony passed the honor of taking the phone to that guy because he was so excited, but he blew it somehow. It didn't accept the password for some reason. Now there is a think tank going on around the payphone. I'm just quietly sitting here observing their reactions.

I'm Apathetic About Bees

Tony and I are carpooling this morning. We often do on Tuesdays, anyway, since we work so close to each other and it's nice to spend some time together. Besides, doubling the gas mileage of the jeep won't make it too far off that of two motorcycles heading the same route. But, we're riding together today so we can go to the California CalTrain station to see what happens "when the Axon goes hot..."
This is a based on 'I Love Bees' the somehow-related-to-Halo website. And given my lack of interest level in video games, particularly first person shooters, why am I going? Because they got me. I don't know what this is all about, but I've got to think they are trying to go after the female market. A mystery, female main characters who are more than vitims or eye candy, the widows story, even the bees. Somebody is subtly-or not so subtly- gearing this to attract a female market. So we'll see. More later if it isn't killer bees being released... But not until all the Axons are hot.
Our Hoodlums.

The Rat Cage

Since I was feeling grumpy and exhausted today, I just didn't want to deal with anything. So when Carolyn and Peter got away from us to go to the corkscrew I decided there was no way. I decided it was time to go back to the RAT (Riders Association of Triumph) tent for a while to rest. There was only a few minutes before AMA and Tony headed off to find Peter and Carolyn. Who decided they didn't like the corkscrew. Go figure. Now I can't find my husband because he has no IM and I've promised to stay at the RAT tent until his return. Since the tent is fronted onto the track by chain link fencing, I've been hanging against it just like one of the rattie boyz when they want out. (Or more likely, they want yogurt drops in, they are very stay-at-home rats) It was then that I realized the perfect name for this is the rat cage. I am amused.

Laguna Seca

I'm at turn 2 right now, the nasty hairpin which gives LS it's distinctive shape. It also seems to cut off network connection, which has been full bars up to now. I can see bikes staging for the parade lap. I guess I should be in that crowd, as I have a free parade lap coupon. But I'm not part of that crowd. I mean that most philisophically. So I sit on the hill and watch the others gaggle. Its amazing. Even here I manage to maintain my distance. I am a tourer. I don't own a sportbike. I just don't ride that way. I don't like group riding, so I can't use that to define my identity. I don't have the endurance- or the stubborness- to be an iron butt rider. I don't own a sport tourer; heck, I don't even own a tourer. I am certainly not part of the cruiser lifestyle. I don't want chrome or carbon fiber on my bike. Every so often I wonder just where my place is in the biker community. After a lot of thought, I have decided I don't have one- I'm a transient. I may ride well into my golden years, but it isn't my identity. I am not a rider, cruiser, biker or squid. I am just a motorcyclist, an elaboration on the identity term traveler. Wanna-be vagabond. I am a bit saddened by the realization, but much happier for the release. I don't have to worry I can't carve a canyon or scrape a peg. I just do the best I can and that's good enough for me. But then again, I am looking sideways at a 50cc Derbi for racing on cart
tracks...

No Moose, But Plenty of Bear

On the ferry, Wrangell narrows is known as Christmas Tree alley because of all the navigation bouys. But I think the name applies equally well to I-5 this weekend. With all the fourth of July traffic, I'd say we're
averaging at least four police per 100 miles (where we fuel up)... Four? Which is the same amount of all the police we saw on the rest of the trip. Not to mention that two of those instances were where Mounties
were called in for fights. (They have a different idea of fun in Canada. These would be part of the magical 'lost posts' section.) Anyway, this is a good weekend to putter along.

Romance vs. Reality Revisited

Standing in the cold, tile bathroom at Denny's trying to zip the winter liner into my pants while an American woman hacks and coughs at the sink...

Hmm, maybe it's something around the 45th parallell which requires a winter liner.

For The Record

The biggest cabin is #106. The sitting room in that one could fit a dance troupe. Of course, it also gets the metal panel over it at night, so it's no good if you want to watch the lights at night.

Reconnecting

I am sitting in cabin 104 on the M/V Columbia just off Bellingham, Washington. And what a ride it's been. Not just the ferry, either. Alaska was amazing, despite a wanton tendancy to destroy cellular internet. There really isn't enough time to describe several weeks of journey right now. Honestly, I doubt there ever will be, but who knows. This morning when I got up, I saw a connection bar and my e-mail come through and I pretty much knew the adventure was over. Today we'll get off the boat and start the run down 5 to California. Nom and Cindy invited us to stop off and go rafting with them in Oregon, but in the end, we knew it was time to head back. I guess the party's over, but as the old phrase goes, the sky is always lighter when you turn toward home. Ok, maybe its not an old phrase, but it should be. The adventure is done.
I was there.
Now I'm back again.

They Should Have Kept The Original

Jeez. So much for the road safety projects. That hill is bloody dangerous. Not for the 6% grades or the nice sweeping curves but for the total and complete lack of a centerline. There seemed to be 2 lanes, but darn if I could tell which was where. I just stayed to the right and hoped it wasn't one way.

To Breathe Free The Canadian Air

Ok. You interpret this sign. Actually, I was glad to see it, since this seems to be a service not all that prevalent up here. No wonder people worry about flats.