Ride For Sight Kicks Off Riding Season

By S.Sydney & Stix Douglas


The first Ride for Sight Poker Run was held in September 2006. It brought out a total of 66 bikes and raised over $1600.00 after expenses. Larry Mc Clellan of the House Springs Lions Club stated that amount of money could allow nearly 300 children to have their eyes tested for early diagnosis of preventable blindness.
On Sunday April 22, 2007 the sun shone brightly from nearly a cloudless blue sky. Nature finally conceded to warmer temperatures allowing the Second Annual Ride For Sight Poker Run to be the official start for the riding season. It drew out many from their winter hibernation to take part in this worthy cause.

It is never too late to go for a ride on a bike. House Springs Lions Club volunteer, Marcie Strieder celebrated her 80th birthday at the Ride for Sight by taking her first with Lion David Jones.
The House Springs Lions Club hosted the event, with help from two other Lions Clubs, the Am Vets post #48, and a mass of willing volunteers. One can only imagine the amount of teamwork, thought, and effort that went into the planning and execution in making this a truly incredible event.

Approximately 104 bikes and a total of 170 participants registered and paid the $20.00 admission. The price included coffee and doughnuts served before the start of the ride, a complimentary Ride For Sight t-shirt, and a wristband that enabled them to enjoy all the festivities offered after the ride was over.
House Springs Lions Club Chairperson David Jones started the Poker Run on time and kept it on schedule throughout the approximately 125 mile ride. It was a virtually uninterrupted, escorted motorcycle excursion that took the group through some of the most scenic areas of Jefferson, Washington, Franklin and St. Louis counties. The road conditions were exceptional over each of the six State Highways and the one Interstate.

With the use of only one Byrnes Mill police officer at the first intersection, the vast quantity of people involved in the volunteer staff out did themselves. They were able to get the large number of bikes through the countless intersections and over the entire distance safely and kept the riding participants together as a complete and intact group, making it a thoroughly enjoyable ride.

As acting Road Captain, David Jones led a vast and diverse crew of the area’s bikers. They varied in age as much as they did in the different machines they rode. Nearly every type of two wheeled bikes and a few three wheeled trikes attended, with almost every motorcycle manufacturer represented. But the variety did not stop there; many were individual bikers as well as numerous group riders. Members included at least three different Harley Owners Groups, the St Louis County Metro Chapter #3 of the Blue Knights, Am Vets from Post # 1, and The Statesmen.

The first of the three stops was near the halfway point, in Desoto at the AMVETS Post #48. Adjutant Dave Maupin informed me they are currently the largest AMVET Post in the State of Missouri. They were enthusiastic about being involved with the Ride For Sight and wish to assist in next year’s ride. While there everyone signed their guest register. They did an excellent job of serving refreshments to our large and thirsty group quickly.

The next stop was the Hillsboro Community Center where the Hillsboro Lions Club provided a luncheon. Everyone had time to relax and sit down and enjoy their meal out of the sun under the pavilion, while they socialized catching up on what each had been up to during the winter months.

Soon everyone was traveling to the Fenton Lions Club, near Murphy Flats, the last stop before returning to House Springs Lions Club.

When the group returned in the late afternoon from the poker run they were greeted by the tantalising aroma of the freshly prepared meal that consisted of a Barbequed Pork Steak Dinner with all the trimmings. And their choice of mixed drinks, beer, diet or regular sodas and bottled water.

Shortly after the meal was over the band “SHILOH” provided the music as they played many of the top 40 country and classic rock tunes for the audience’s enjoyment.

After Shiloh had performed its first set it was time to give out the prizes. There were cash prizes for the top three poker hands of $125.00, $75.00, and $50.00 respectively, with two of the winners generously donating their winnings back. However, nothing could compare with the numerous attendance prizes that were provided.

Sarah Calhoun who participated with her husband in the Poker Run went home after the ride and returned with their truck afterward bringing her Seeing Eye dog, Tico that she received, from one of the Lions Clubs of Missouri, several years ago. Showing where some of the monies raised goes first hand as she helped answer questions about the program.

The Ride For Sight Poker Run continues to grow, with almost 40 more bikes participating in the ride over last year. This year’s Ride For Sight raised over $2,500.00; with a tentative date that is set for Saturday April 26th, 2008 for next year. It is one annual charity event that I will be looking forward to participating in again with hopes many of you will join me next year and help to double the number of bikes attending. Please make a note on your calendar now to make this a part of your annual events.

Special thanks go to area retailers and businesses for their generosity in providing this year’s attendance prizes, to the Ride sponsors for their support and to the many volunteers who graciously donated their time to make this event so successful.
Shown here are a few of the many volunteers that graciously donated their time and effort to make this event so successful and enjoyable for the many participants.



Ride for Sight is part of a non-profit organization that is dedicated to help those that are sight impaired. Monies raised goes for early diagnosis of preventable blindness, as well as training and placement of Seeing Eye dogs.

More information can be found on the Lions Club web site http://www.housespringslions.com/ including photos of the event. Additional information on Sight First II the organization and what it does can be found at http://www.lionsclubs.org/EN/index.php

STIX 1976 (The Bi Centennial)

By STIX DOUGLAS

Could this motorcycle be the equivalent of a Harley Davidson Edsel? I seriously doubt it, and I would be one to know.
The year 1976 was a very special for a lot of people and for a lot of very different reasons. Besides being the year that I graduated the nation was busy with marketing products for its 200 year celebrations, it could also be a year before most of you were ever born and thus the reason for this to be explained and the need to clear up some misconceptions of motorcycle history.

There were many items marketed that were considered patriotic products as well as a certain amount of collectables, throughout the year. It was also during the period when AMF owned Harley Davidson, and it wanted to get involved in marketing its own rare collectable with the Bi-Centennial.

Many refer to the time that AMF ran things as the “Dark Ages” of Harley Davidson. It’s a shame that it also seems the majority also believes that nothing good ever came out of its ownership. It’s hard to understand why, although it still remains a highly disputed and controversial topic as well as a very difficult and touchy subject to deal with especially from the motor company. AMF motorcycles were shun and thought of as the least valued for one reason because of the company’s business strategy at that time.

AMF was interested in quantity and in doing so the quality of its product suffered substancually and done ill reputable damage to its brand in the process. Often when you would see a Harley Davidson motorcycle on the side of the road, it would be a fair assumption it was broke down. Design and in most cases modifications of private ingenuity contributed to the subliminal connection that Harley Davidson motorcycles were inferior.

During the AMF years, records weren’t completed or kept up with as they had been with the family owned company. This was another of Harley Davidson’s “Official” positions.
Things got easier for Harley once the AMF period was over, by avoiding the inevitable confrontation and side step any further arguments, allowed them to get on with the business at hand which was its recovery.
What makes the Bi Centennial stand out from any other Harleys were two items not found on other bikes at the time. First was its “Special paint” that was used. Up until this time no other Harley had been considered or adorned with any different or unusual paint. By adding a large grain Metal Flake into the clear coat it gave the base a slightly diverse look especially in the sun.
The importance and significance of any 1976's AMF Harleys was the true symbolism that this was the first time that an Eagle was incorporated into and with the Harley Bar & Shield and , where it has remained ever since. It was also the first and only time the year of the motorcycle was decorated with a emblem showing its year. Also making it noteworthy.


Then there were the highly controversial Decals. Many claim that it was the artist PETTER MAX who designed the decals that adorn the Bi Centennial gas tanks. Because of AMF's inability to pursue copyrights the decision was made to not have them reissued or duplicated.
The importance of this fact alone makes a difference. During many motorcycle restorations it is common for them to be repainted and for decals and emblems to be copyrighted and available. But this is the one critical stipulation and exception for the Bi Centennial. Otherwise the Bi Centennial would lose its original status and no longer be a true Bi-Centennial. Instead it would just be a repainted shovelhead.

So technically it is impossible to repaint a true Bicentennial. Would this make the bike more valued over another that had been painted? Perhaps but it also divides the traditionalist from the pretenders.

While at motorcycle bike shows many goof and quickly walk away from an AMF Shovelhead. A few from the old school take a look and talk or make a comment. Some even share their own experience on how this bike reminds them of times gone by or one of theirs.


I supppose it could be said that I bought the Bi Centennial as an impulse purchase. It reminded me of my very first Harley which was also a 1976. Since then I have bought and still own two other 1976 models, a 1976 XL Sportser and of course this FLH Bi-Centennial.



Having owned a '76 prior I figured I had a general idea as to what to expect. Instead I got another lesson in life. I had no idea of what I was in for. The first clue should have raised a red flag when the previous owner claimed he was only selling it because he was pressed for Cash. He easily departed from it at what I considered a reasonable price. But he would have had to of already known that the oil pump was out of it, and made no indication and said nothing to me about it.


As with any and all older bikes there is usually a horror story or two that comes along with it. This bike would be no exception, especially one this old. As luck would have it disasters have a way of happening. Even if you escape one there is usually another waiting in the wings that has a way of tracking you down and finding you.


As fate would have it while having it parked in the basement while I was repairing the damages to the oil pump another set of unexpected change of events took place. The basement flooded, leaving 14 inches of water in it. The devastation was just too much and the repairs on the Bi Centennial would have to be shelved for a later time.


Several years passed, and a few people looking to buy a Harleys asked about the bike. They showed some interest in it, but with it apart and non running it seemed to them as a dreadfully insignificant disappointment.

I refused to allow it to go quietly and become a scraped collection of parts. There had to be something done with it. It was just plain wrong for a bike of this caliper to be hidden and ridiculed I made the decision to do what had to be done. It took a lot of effort to get the bike up and out from the dark and dreary dungeon, where it had remained at for nearly seven years. It had to be towed into the daylight..

A lot or consideration was given to the restoration of this project before it was taken to Butch Clayton. A well respected Harley Mechanic. Having his experience, and expertise, insured me that the Bi-Centennial was in the best and most capable hands. I felt it was important to restore the Bi Centennial to as near original and genuine as humanly possible. We both agreed that if it were worth refurbishing it would have to done right. The motor would have to be completely torn down and thoroughly gone through. In doing so we found out the cam gears did not match, which explained what had caused overheating problems prior to my purchasing of it.


All the aftermarket parts were removed and disposed of. Anything not Genuine Harley Davidson or an original OEM part would be closely examined. The integrity of this project had to be of the highest priority.

Once the aftermarket parts were scrapped and removed the real work was just starting. Finding original OEM parts to replace them was no easy task. Especially since they were no longer stocked or could be found any longer at your local Harley Davidson Dealerships. Plus they hadn’t been in more than two decades.

Many of these items had been discontinued decades ago. The accuracy and verifiable of each part could not be questioned. This had to be an absolute authentic and as close to original as each piece was painstakingly given the old school treatment. This chunk of coal would have to be a diamond on its own merit.
In 1976 Harleys didn’t come with chrome. In fact the only chrome that was ever added usually was done while the engine was being rebuilt during the off season
Traditionally many who valued their machines would show their pride when it came time for repairs or upgrades. Depending on finances because not everyone could afford the repair and to chrome their bikes at the same time. Points covers, rocker boxes, primary covers even transmission ends along with anything else made out of aluminum were either chromed or massive amounts of time and energy were spent on cleaning polishing, and buffing each piece into a mirror like luster. Hours of elbow grease surprisingly made a real noticeable distinction.


1976 was also the last year for the FLH to use the factory “Pogo Stick” seating. As well as the last year for the “Buddy Seat”. The following year Harley started using frame mounted seats and many would change theirs over to a more comfortable and lower mounted aftermarket seats, which by then were becoming the norm.

For instance the Rear Fender were “hedged” Making it possible along with a optional Center stand, which this bike had, that allowed the rear wheel to be taken off without a jack and or without lifting it over the rear
During its restoration there were a few items that remained on the motorcycle even though they do not belong. Someone who owned it previously had drilled holes through the rear turn signal bracket, and had added chrome Bullets to decorate it. This was all the rage “back in the day” of course since chrome parts were almost unheard of..
In keeping with its Original and or Stock status, every detail with this bike was kept to its correct time period as is humanly possible.
With the lack of a suitable OEM rear turn signal bracket I believed it was better to fill the holes of the missing bullets rather than replacing it with a chromed aftermarket one. To keep with the original/stock theme, it seemed that with the bike being in Black and having bullets why not set it up to resemble a police bike.

Often what make a big difference with any motorcycle are its accessories. However in 1976 you didn’t have a choice of genuine parts or accessories from the factory. Instead many would “RAT” out there motorcycles. Whenever anything broke or needed replacing on their motorcycle they would use alternate or aftermarket parts.
AMF made motorcycles, everyone else made the aftermarket parts and upgrades.
It was like an “unspoken rule” that the company made the motorcycles and everyone else made the improvements for it. If you wanted chrome chances were you went with purchasing a cheaply made part that was already chrome plated. The quality might have been slightly better than Harleys at the time but that started the battle cry “Chrome won’t get you home”.
One of the accessories that did come with the Bi Centennial was the medallions of the eagle and ribbon with Made In the USA. These were the first of what has later to become a very successful Harley Davidson Parts & Accessory market. It combined Eagle Iron which was later phased over into the Genuine Harley Davidson Parts and combine it with the performance and racing parts of its Screaming Eagle line.


It is not the most beautiful bike but what it lacks in looks it more than makes up for in its own significance .for being noteworthy. It remains an Icon. The last in a long line and a prime example of the way things were done.
The stereotypes that were earned as well as all the finger pointing and divisions within the ranks have eased over time. But the fact remains that in the case of the Bi Centennial like that of all things AMERICAN or dealing with Pride have faded and are nearly extinct from the way it was. Sometimes the things like that of importance slipped between the cracks and are forgotten forever.
Being rebellious and defiant the Bi-Centennial might be a thorn in the side of Harley Davidson but I believe it should also be used as a reminder and I am a stickler for details. This Bi-Centennial represents all that went on before and has since been changed. I also believe the Bi-Centennial never received the respect nor the esteem that it properly deserves.

1976 Harley Davidson Bi-Centennial FOR SALE

I have been fortunate to have owned this Bi Centennial since 1997. However all good things must come to an end.
















In the time I have owned it I have taken it from a rough and crude form and restored it to a more honorable and relyable existance.  Doing old school things like polishing and buffing by hand the aluimum parts like these control levers.






However when it come to engine work, I turned that
over to Butch Clayton, of Clayton Performance. Shown here working on it.




The entire engine was gone over, and a fresh top end was done.











The bike has less than 500 mile on its rebuild, and has less than 31,000 original miles. The only changes being unleaded valves added.





There are many other spare parts that go with the bike, Including another set of 76 gas tanks.










Those interested in owning a truely rare 1976 ShovelHead Harley Davidson can contact me by phone.

This maybe the last all original and non-aftermarketed shovelhead from this area, and the only FLH Bi-Centennial known to be FOR SALE in existance.





Stix
314 304 3709
Cedar Hill, Missouri 63016

The Annual First Ride

(by Stix Douglas)

I could see my breath as I took my first few steps outside, heading towards the polebarn. At least the wind was calm were my thoughts, as I took a firm grasp of the hand-grips.  I squeezed the front brake lever and threw my leg over to mount the old Harley. Slowly bending down to turning on the petcock and pulled on the choke before reaching to flip the switch on the ignition. Pausing for a moment before touching the starter button.

It is at that very instant, that very moment that I was caught in a deja' vu'.

I had been doing this for so many years now and yet there were so few others that would even know today's importance and even fewer to be following in my footsteps.

This was more than just a tradition. The anticipation and anxieties had been building for months as I had waited savoring the moment to take this first all-important ride. It wasn't just another trip down to the local grocery store. Nope, it was something more, much more significant.
Today would be that special day when I would take my motorcycle out for its annual non-sanctioned event known as the First Ride of the Year.

Why would that be so special? You might ask? What is it that makes experienced and traditional bikers solemn and refer to it as the most important ride of the year with such a reverence? It’s because they know the importance of it and know it’s a ritual.

Just then my thumb pressed the starter button. The engine roars to life. Thunder echoed inside the metal building. But it was like music to my ears as I sat there enjoying the sound for a moment. Quickly giving the throttle another twist, my mind lost all consciences of any problems as my mind cleared of other thoughts.

After carefully backing the bike out of the building and waiting a few minutes I pushed the choke back in allowing the engine to idled down into its putting mode. The low RPM lobbing was pleasant. It was the sound that once you heard it you knew it was the work of a finely tuned machine.


Releasing the grips, I pulled my sunglasses out of  my leather coat, and put them on. The skies were clear and it was bright and sunny, making for a beautiful day for this years first ride..

Pulling out from my gravel drive onto the highway.  I enjoyed twisting the throttle a little further to feel the acceleration.  The power and wind thrust me backwards into the seat. I couldn't help it as my face nearly froze with a smile.  I enjoyed running the bike through its gears, taking full advantage of it.

Braving the elements for a ride is very refreshing and exhilarating. I even find it very rewarding at times. Plus it does wonders for my outlook as well as for my own mental sanity, and well-being.

Nowadays organized rides like Polar Bear Runs seem to have taken precedence from some of the impact and previous years popularity by confusing many. But those events have different reasons for their existence then the underlying principle for this annual ride.

I have always participated in the traditions that I have grown up with especially those concerning "old school and riding".   I am reminded why so many motorcyclists are out riding so early in the year usually without the best of riding conditions.


Many years ago I vaguely remember a event that took place on a very cold and snowing day, long before I had even started riding. I overheard a wise crack made from a non-riding store clerk to a biker who had just come in from riding in the freezing cold. Sarcastically he asked him how he enjoyed his ride. The biker upstaged him by his response as he paused for a moment, gathered his composure, and very calmly answered:” Well… I didn't have to take out my tool kit so I guess that’s a good thing.”  The Biker then cracked a crooked smile, having said all that needed to be.

Moments like that were what got me to want to ride. You would just have had to of been there to have understood the impact and what it meant. That kind of passion for riding any day, whether it was cold or not was better than to not have rode any at all.

The majority of new two wheeled riding enthusiasts won’t have any idea what this ride is, or what it is all about. Many of them will never experienced it. Instead they continue to keep their bikes in storage, hibernating. But not me, I enjoy an occasional winter ride even if it’s only for a few miles.

Rolling on down the highway as I was making my way to the store I began thinking of all the others who would NOT be so lucky. Those that wait miss out on the thrill.

Those who are serious about motorcycling as I am know that it’s NOT about what brand or whatever make or model you have. It’s NOT the distance you ride that day or how cold it is, or even if you ride by yourself or with a group of others.
It is that first ride of the year that gives everyone the opportunity to start their bikes up and at least check off some of their maintenance concerns.
What it IS about is the connection between you and your bike. Its  the time to take notes and to arrange what it might need.  It is the time to plan ahead . Perhaps order parts and to take care of what may have been overlooked or that's been put off to have worked on.

Leaving the store after putting the groceries in the saddlebag I began thinking to myself…. Its not superstition to know your machine well enough to feel you are one with it. Your life and others depend on it. It’s a responsibility that shouldn't be taken lightly.

I enjoyed leaning into the turns but I was also saddened as I slowly pulled back into my driveway. I might have to wait a long time before there would be any decent warmer weather for a longer ride.

Pulling the motorcycle carefully back into it's resting place, I flipped out its side-stand, while quickly running through its shutdown procedure before stepping off it. After removing the groceries from the saddlebags I assessed the ride.

The first ride after the New Year is always magical if not memorable. The satisfaction of getting out there riding this early in the year made me feel as if there is a lot of hope and optimism for an even longer riding season.

“I had really enjoyed my ride and I knew I will have a tremendous year ahead of me.” I can’t remember when that it had gone any better. I was elated by the facts, my riding skills were still intact, and I was feeling even more confident, looking forward to the challenges of the New Year. .But more importantly, I will not have to worry about getting out a tool bag when the "Prime Riding Season"  comes, because my motorcycle will be ready to ride.

Best of luck to all of you on your, “Years First Ride”. According to mine, I’ll be out on the road trouble free this year, will you?

Phoenix, Arizonia

Going Down the Highway.....

HELL NIGHT

By STIX DOUGLAS


When the weather turns cold and all the leaves have fallen from the trees, the best part of the riding season draws to a close in the Great State of Missouri. It is about that time I will often reminisce about some of my more recent traveling adventures.
But with having taken so many of these expeditions, my thoughts about them often becomes a pleasant stroll down memory lane that only improves, over time, while many get bitter sweet with age. But, there is always one that is and will remain being the exception. It was during a 24-hour period as I was returning from yet another of my many Sturgis excursions.

To fully grasp that day and get the full impact you would first have to understand and know what led up to it prior.

I had planned for this particular ride to be the ultimate. One in which to expand my comfort zone, stretch my horizons a bit further, and by pressing the envelope to make it not only the longest but I would also be riding through more states of any of my Touring endeavors to date.
Using two weeks of my vacation, instead of the usual one, I thought I would be making it easier on myself by traveling alone. My reasoning in theory were I could travel at my own pace and do more miles without anyone slowing me down. There was a certain optomism that I had thinking this journey would also be one of my most memorable. In a lot of ways, it became that way, but for the wrong reasons.

When I first left out on this particular tour I had first headed to Ontario, Canada for a Provincial HOG Rally, and had enjoyed visiting and riding with Suzie Sydney while we collected points for the ABC's of Touring.

It was two days after leaving from there, that I had ridden over 1,000 miles in a single day and then had the misfortune of laying my Harley down as I arrived into Sturgis.
I managed to repair the bike myself, but was in alot of pain, from an ankle injury caused during the accident.

Against my better judgment, and even after the accident I had refused to vary from my original plan and was even more determined to go through with completing the entire route as scheduled.

It was now, well into the second week of this journey, and I had only slept two nights on a mattress since my departure. My body was well tenderized from the combination of the pains and sleep depravation. I was unaware I was making the perfect formula for a disaster.

I was neither well rested nor was I feeling my best on that particular day, as I left Nevada. I had gotten up to get an early start expecting to beat the heat. But it was of no use. The un-relenting dry desert heat was persistent. The overnight low temperature had only gone down to 90*F. I was totally unaware of the impact the heat was having upon me.








As I pulled into Kingston AZ I seen a rather enormous Cactus near the towns Informational Center. It reminded me that I wanted some digital photos of these magnificent Sawarro cactus. I walked inside and was given directions on where to be able to find them in their nature habitat. I figured it would be well worth the effort. But the detoured route took me several hours and a couple extra hundred miles off course far deeper into the state and on some of the worst single lane, semi paved, and twisted back roads that could NOT have been imagined. It was far worse and more than aggravating to be able to get back onto my homeward heading.

It was late in the afternoon by the time I reached Prescott. Unknowingly I had been traveling a little faster than the required speed limit as I hustled through town. My hands were shaking and I wasn’t sure if it was because of my nerves caused by the uncertainty of the roads getting to there, or if it was just because I had not eaten yet all day, which would make things even more dangerous. I just should have slowed down then.

Unable to find a suitable place to eat I kept going and had turned my attention to the freshly paved black asphalt that had also been freshly painted. I failed to notice a signal light up ahead that had just changed, and unaware of the Traffic already moving into the intersection, when I did, it was nearly too late.
I applied both brakes hard enough to cause the bike to go into a skid, turning it to slide sideways. The bike came to a paused stop as the momentum slowly lifted itself back up into its upright position right along side the car driven by an startled elderly woman, whom had also just come to an abrupt stop. It was a very close call and a collision could have easily have taken place, that would have been my fault.

My nerves were completely shot. All I could do was apologize, as I pushed the bike out of the intersection, and onto the shoulder as I tried to calm down. It was at that point that I realized I had been making way too many mistakes and things had just gotten out of hand. The domino theory of the events of this day were becoming obvious and were clicking in succession.
It was then that I realized I was starving, and pulled into a Blimpies Sandwich Shop in Cottonwood, AZ. While I ate inside I took another look over the maps once again and tried to re-evaluate my situation. Having taken the detoured route for the Cactus photos I was now much further south. Having planned on spending the night at the rest stop near Winslow, AZ. I was still several hours and nearly 200 miles away. But then if I made it to there I knew I would be back on schedule.

I was hoping that the next day I could be “standin’ on a corner in Winslow, Arizona” But as I arrived in Winslow late that evening, there where massive amounts of surface and major road re-construction taking place.

Even the interstate highway overpasses were shut down. Which meant that the rest stop I had expected to spend the night at was unfortunately closed as well. It was being used as the storage depot area.

I felt stunned and shocked being totally unprepared and unsure of what to do next. I immediately pulled into a restaurant at one of the Winslow exits. I sipped a few cups of coffee while I briefly looked over the Road Atlas and studied over the state map once again. Realizing there wouldn’t be another rest stop until the state line.

I was dumfounded when I got back out on the Highway and the first sign I happen to see was for the Petrified Forest National Park. That's when I remembered on an earlier trip, that there was a roadside park on the eastern side of that exit.

I suddenly got this Euphoria that everything was going to be “okay” the closer I got. Maybe I was already delusional. Or that it was just wishful thinking. The marathon of riding hundreds of miles that day coupled with the intensity of the heat had diffenantly taken its toll.

I was more than a little tired and it was well after midnight by the time I pulled into that roadside park. Having already been in the saddle of that motorcycle for more than seventeen hours that day. I rolled the bike in quietly trying not to disturb others and parked close to what looked like a pavilion that had a picnic table under it that was the furthest away from everything else.

I noticed water standing in places as the ground was completely saturated. Which caused me to be even more careful as I carried my gear to the picnic table nearby.
Once the bike was unloaded I treated myself to a late night snack, finishing off the rest of the sandwich I had saved from earlier. Then I got situated to laid down for what I thought would have been some much needed and well-deserved rest.

As I stretched out on the top of that picnic table I was physically and mentally exhausted from the entire days ride. Tossing the blanket over me as I covered myself up and had just closed my eyes. I was moments away from dozing off into a restful bliss. When all of a sudden I felt something touch my nose.
At first I thought to myself “That’s strange, must be my imagination.” Then it happened again, only this time it felt wet. Immediately I thought “Could this be a leak? “

My eyes opened and I blinked as I looked up taking a moment for them to focus as I felt several more drops. “How can this be?” I thought as I realized that I was now looking at the sky through where a roof should have been. “Did someone steal the roof? Or was it under construction too?” Then it dawned on me as I realize this wasn’t a pavilion at all but rather what is called a Pergola that was only designed to shade the picnic table area from the sun.

Just then the skies opened up, and suddenly there was a loud crack of Thunder and within seconds rain was pouring down in buckets. I grabbed all that I could carry and in two trips quickly moved everything across the parking lot to a pavilion that “DID” have a ”shingled roof”

Once I finally got situated I then climbed onto that picnic table and begun stretching out once more as I tossed my fleece blanket over me. Considering the fact that I had now solved the crisis and that I could finally get that much needed and uninterrupted sleep.

Laying back down I closed my eyes and was just getting relaxed when I heard the loudest most awful screech followed by with what sounded like a collision of two cars colliding at a high-speed impact. The sound was so loud and so close that it scared and startled me. I literally jumped up thinking it was right there on top of me.

Before I could turn around I heard an ear splitting sound of a train whistle blowing at full volume from less than 100 feet away. How does it get any better than this? I thought to myself.

For the remainder of the night I was gnashing my teeth with each sound. Nearly every 15 minutes after that was constantly being interrupted with trains, train whistles, Trains passing by or latching on and or shunting one another. When it wasn’t the trains it was the roaring sounds or the cracking of Thunder. I was feeling each fiber of my hair standing up on the back of my neck as the breeze from the storm ripped though. There was nothing I could do. The harder that I tried to shut everything out the more noise there seemed to be. It was “hellish” to say the least.

For hours on end throughout the night the sounds continued to haunt me. Then early in the morning during what is referred to as the predawn the Thunder finally had quit rumbling. The rain had stopped, as the worse of the storm had finally passed. The train’s noises quit and the quiet and solitude of another day were at hand. My bloodshot eyes hurt as I tried in vain to fall asleep. But there would be neither peace nor any rest for me there.

The busy hustle and bustle of the early morning commuters had filled the streets and with them came the splashing sounds made from the puddles of the standing water that now seemed to become amplified. That was it; I couldn’t take it any longer. Miserable would vaguely relate to the intensity of how I felt when I got up.

Reluctantly I loaded everything back up on the bike and then headed back to the Petrified Forest National Park thinking I could at least get my first morning cup of coffee there.

At the entrance of the park I stopped to take a picture and then realized after reading another sign nearby that the parks facilities wouldn’t officially be open for at least another half hour. So rather than wait I got back on the bike figuring my time would be best served on the road heading on my way back home.

Gloomy looking patches of low ceiling clouds gave the morning a rather futuristic and supernatural appearance that was still evident as I exited Arizona.
Raindrops began to fall once again just as I turned off the exit headed into the state Information/Rest stop inside New Mexico. Parking the bike under one of the roofed picnic table areas as I stretched out.

When I finally awoke later, I felt I had fully recovered, the “power nap” had served its purpose and that rest two hours had done me a world of good. I felt much more relaxed and totally refreshed.

But it wasn’t until that moment that all of the things that had led up to this really hit me. I realized that I had just experenced the worst night of my life while on the road touring.

I got to thinking, "Who in their right mind would ever attempt to travel 7,000 miles in two weeks, or to have done it alone or the way I done it?

It was then that part of the puzzle sort of fell into place and I had come to my own life's terms and it became crystal clear to me that I had already spent a lifetime doing things the hard way. It is just something within my own nature that I have not been able to choose to have the control over. For instance when you ride alone you are not as aware of your own mistakes. (There is no one to correct or to argue with you.) I had learned a valueable lessons. But I have already learned plenty.

I am very thankful to have had this exerperence and for it to be behind me. THere are always those things that have a way of happening that are unplanned and out of our control, but the way I see it I am convinced that it could have been a lot worse.

The benifit is knowing and passing that information on. Be careful what you wish for or be willing to suffer the consequences…..

The other thing that stuck out about this tour that I would like to say is..."You just can’t force yourself to have the worst night of your life while Motorcycle Touring; it is as if, when or if the time ever comes ... it find's you. "

Another lesson learnt the hard way. Fatigue is no reason to keep going on. Being in a hurry will only get you killed or injured. And it is better to be late when arriving, then to not make it at all.

I guess if the truth were to be told then the secret to all of this would be to not let any of this bother us, but to accept it, and learn from it before moving on.
I can’t believe the amount of mistakes I had made and yet am still alive to be able to tell about it.

Thus that maybe my reason and or another purpose for my life. That’s why I am STIX DOUGLAS…. and I ride!

Thinking back I believe this was not for my own benefit but rather it was for the benefit of others, that bringing this to you, for you to heed my advice.

Be Safe, or you’ll be sorry….

Memories of the Quebec Provincial Rally

By S.Sydney & Stix Douglas


During the early part of the summer I was enjoying myself out on the open road travelling on the “North Eastern Tour”. Collecting points for each of the New England states for the ABC’s of Touring, I had already stopped at the Connecticut State Rally on my way up into Canada.

There were many surprises upon arriving in Quebec. Having already been told that French was the primary language spoken there, I had not experienced the language barrier in any of the other provinces previously visited. To find the Rally I resorted to “International communication” when talking with a gas station attendant. I asked “Harley Davidson Dealer?” and he pointed me in the right direction.

Fortunately it was close and easily found along the main highway. Pulling into the Dealership that morning the owner greeted me. He showed Quebec hospitality by taking his Harley and personally escorting me to where the HOG Rally was taking place.

Having ridden for nearly 2,000 miles I was more than willing to just sit and watch others enjoy the activities. While talking with so many people I was fortunate that they took the time to translate so those that did not speak very much English could understand me.

Returning to the Dealership I took pictures and participated in some of the functions that where happening there; including a bike wash and a barbecue where I enjoyed a hotdog.

In the early evening I returned to the Rally joining with the others for an evening ride, to a place that had a spectacular view to watch the sun set. It was magnificent.

Along the way I had to hit the fuel reserve switch. To assure I would have enough fuel to make it back and not be left behind, the Road Captain of the local HOG chapter escorted me up through the ranks to ride with him at the front of the group on the return trip. When the time came a few of them pulled off to escort me to the gas station. I felt I was protected and well cared for in true biker fashion.

Later that night there was live entertainment with a band and dancing. Everyone thoroughly seemed to enjoy themselves whole heartedly. The memories of the Quebec Provincial Rally were some of the most enjoyable I can remember for this year. I had the opportunity to meet a lot of friendly and very interesting people.

Even though I didn’t want it to end, as there was so much more that was to happen at the Rally, I knew I had to leave. My next stop was the Ride for Sight in Ontario the following day; but that is another story….