Monday, March 24, 2014

Tai chi, surgery and Street Vibrations

Timeframe 2000
 
During this, my first year in the Bay Area, not only did I buy my Harley and do some road trips on it, but I had also started a tai chi class.  I found a wonderful class for Quang Ping tai chi, which is Yang style (more of a fighting style), taught by David Pounds in Willow Glen park.  It was really nice going to the park every Saturday for instruction outside in the fresh air.  My first week, he taught me the warm up stretches, and the first move of the "set".  The tai chi set consists of 64 moves and each week I would get one new move to practice during the week.  The set would take about a year to learn and another year or longer to fully refine it.  Once a student learns the set to the teacher's satisfaction, they are ready for Kung Fu training.  I loved watching other students there that were practicing Kung Fu, Tai Chi sword, Tai Chi staff, etc., because it gave me previews into what I would hopefully be learning some time in the future.  Every day I practiced so that the next Saturday David would see the improvement and show me the next move.  Sometimes he would show me things that looked impossible and I just KNEW I wouldn't be able to do it.  He would break it down for me and within a few minutes, I was doing it, and it was very exciting and fulfilling for me.  My tai chi practice always happened daily amongst everything else I did.

I had also found a dive shop to dive with, and they had a club... called Santa Clara Dive Club or something like that.  I joined the club and we would go diving in Monterey on the weekends.  It was a fun group of people, and since we had to get down to Monterey early, I would do my tai chi practice there on the beach once I got there.  It was such a wonderful place and way to do tai chi.

By this time, I had also modified the Sportster a bit.  I had put on mini ape hanger handlebars so it was more comfortable for me to ride instead of the more forward sport position.


Some time during the Summer of 2000, I noticed my right foot looked and felt like it had a splinter.  A number of times, I took a pin and tweezers, and did my best to get the splinter out, but after a few times with no success, I finally went to the doctor.  He took a look and told me it was a Plantar's wart.  He suggested I just get the Plantar's Wart pads from Compound W and see if they work.  He did warn me that often the don't work, since the skin on the foot is so tough, so I had an appointment to go back in a month to check progress.  It was not good... in that one month, I had sprouted 5 new Plantar's Warts, so the doctor suggested I have surgery to remove them.  We scheduled the surgery and a week or so later I was back in his office.

He had me lay on the examination table face down and nurse put her arms over my legs and put all her weight on me so that, as the doctor injected the nerves near the Plantar's Warts with anesthesia, I wouldn't kick him or make any sudden moves.  As the needle went in and hit the nerve each time I felt the pain, but I would not react.  I just kept breathing very deeply, relaxed, let my body go limp, and let my mind go blank.  After the 2nd or 3rd shot, the nurse removed her hands and the doctor panicked a little bit asking what she was doing.  She explained that she could tell I was meditating or something, because I wasn't moving... there was no reason for her to hold my legs down.  The doctor finished the last shots of anesthesia without the nurse holding me down and I didn't flinch.  He then went on to cut the warts out, making sure he got the roots, then he cauterized the skin so that I wouldn't bleed.  When he finished all 6, he wrapped it up in bandages, gave me a prescription for Vicadin, which I filled on the way home, and I went home to put my foot up and wait for the anesthesia to wear off and the pain to come.  After an hour or so, I didn't feel any pain, but I took a Vicadin anyway, just in case.  That just put me to sleep, so if there was any pain to be felt, I didn't know it.  My foot never did feel any pain in the days after the surgery, which I was quite happy about.

The main instructions for the next couple weeks were to keep my foot dry and soak it a couple times each day... I think in Epsom Salts.  So, when I was at the dive shop helping with classes, I used my dry suit instead of a wet suit.  And, when I had to ride the Sportster up to Corte Madera for scheduled service, I packed a "tub" and salts in my tail bag so I could soak my foot while waiting for my bike to be done.  While I was at the dealership, I soaked my foot at the tables they had out front.  Part way through my soak, a couple guys on Harleys pulled in and went in the dealership.  As they walked by me, the first one stopped and introduced himself as Mike.  We talked for a minute, then when the second one came up, Mike introduced him as his brother John.  John and I talked for a while, then he went in for minute, then came back out to talk to me.  He told me Sean Penn was inside and they were both looking at patches and stickers.  He had said to Sean, "Hey Sean, what do you think of this one?"  And Sean gave him his opinion and they continued comparing notes on patches and stickers.  After a few minutes a short guy with dirty blonde hair walked out and as he walked by us, he told John to take it easy.  Sure enough, it was Sean Penn!!  He got on his Sportster and took off... I never realized how short he was!!  LOL!

John was a good looking Italian guy, with that very direct and sincere way of communicating that most Italians seem to have.  He mentioned to me that he, his brother Mike, their cousins and friends, were all going to Street Vibrations in a couple weeks and I should go with them.  I told him thanks for the invite, I would think about it.  We exchanged numbers and met up a couple times in the next couple weeks, and he and the friends I met seemed to be okay, so I decided to go with them.  The only thing was that they had all planned this and they were taking Friday off from work and going as a group.  I didn't have enough time to plan it and give notice at work, so I couldn't take Friday off.  I just packed up the bike, rode to work and left immediately after work.  I don't even remember how I got there.  I think I just memorized what freeways to take so that I didn't have to stop and look at a map all the time.

On the way, it got dark pretty quick, and it also got very cold going over the mountain passes.  I ran into alot of rain, and ended up stopping at a gas station where there were alot of other bikers on their way to Street Vibrations.  I hung out there for about a half hour and when it didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon, I decided to leave and just get to Reno sooner than later, wet or not.  I don't remember what hotel they were staying at, but I do remember pulling into the parking garage, looking for a parking spot and being amazed at how every spot had at least two motorcycles in it.  There were no cars in the whole garage.  I was really in awe at how many bikes were there.  Once I got parked and was off the bike, I called John's cell phone using my cell, and he told me where he and his group were and I went to find them.

Mike, cousin Jeff, Jeff's wife, and a friend


Me with my bike and John's in front when I arrived.
John with bikes

  I don't really remember too much about any events that weekend, but I DO remember one of the days we did a poker run, which was a run to some of the brothels around town.  We stopped, talked to some of the girls, then headed out to the next one, until we were done.  It was really interesting talking to the girls.  They were so matter of fact about everything.  There was also some sort of parade in a small town that we visited... maybe this was old Carson City or something like that?


The other thing I remember about the weekend was on the way home.  We all left on Sunday bundled up under our leathers because it was early and chilly.  As we went over the pass, we were all VERY cold, and once we got over the pass and it started warming up, we stopped to warm up some out of the wind from riding... and we left our engines running so we could use the heat of the engines to warm up to. 
John warming his hands on my bike's engine.
Mike showing us how cold he is.


Monday, February 17, 2014

Road trips on the Sportster-- Part 2

Timeframe Summer 2000

I spent 4th of July with Rick and Nadine, and as is typical for Seattle, it was cloudy, but thankfully not too rainy.  It was nice to have a day off the bike, and have them drive me around in the warm car, after spending so much time being cold on the bike.  I had always wanted to go to the Jimi Hendrix museum there, so we went.  The building itself was pretty cool... it was purple and had no definition to it, it was just a blob of purple.  Whoever the architect was, did a great job, presenting museum goers with a psychedelic experience just walking up to the museum.  Once inside, I realized I could spend a week there.  There was so much memorabilia, so many videos, exhibits, pictures... I did my best to soak in as much in as I could.  I hope someday to get back to it and experience it again.

The next day, Thursday, July 5th, I rode back down I-5 to Portland, Oregon, where I met up with my old friend Mark... remember Mark, who helped me with my bike and pranked me with the sparks flying out of his hand, and I pranked him back with the magnetic nose piercing?  Mark and I met up when I rolled into town, and he showed me the new house he recently bought.  We went for a bite to eat, we spent some time relaxing at his house, then as planned, he allowed me to crash in his guest room.  The next morning, Friday, July 6th, we went out for breakfast and I was on my way again.  As I left town, I made a quick stop at Langlitz Leathers, where I had my first set of leathers custom made.  I still have the pants, but sold the jacket many years ago.  The owner, Tom, remembered me, and it was nice talking to him.  Whenever I'm in Portland, I love to visit Langlitz Leathers.  It's like taking a trip back in time... it's like a shop from the 40s or 50s, and the women working on the leather are right there in the shop, sewing away.  It's really a cool place.  When I left there, I went to the scuba shop I used to go to, and Travis was there.  He worked there when I lived in Vancouver before, and he and I got to be friends and did a couple dives together.  We caught up for a minute then I was on my way again.

I rode out to Bend, OR, where I had stayed in 1999, when I left to go back to NJ.  I think because I had said goodbye to Keith there, it will always be a special place for me.  I grabbed a bite to eat and stayed the night in Bend.  Saturday, July 7, I rode down the 97 and turned off to visit Crater Lake.  If you don't know about Crater Lake, it's beautiful.  It is a lake that was formed when a volcano imploded.  It just collects rain water, there are no tributaries that flow into it, feeding it... therefore the water doesn't move much and there is very little silt, so the reflection of the sky in the lake is very pure.  It was a little chilly there, compared to everywhere else, about 60 degrees, but I was still warm enough.  I walked around the lake admiring the beauty, stopped in the gift shop to walk around and stretch, then got back on the bike to start heading towards home.

This picture doesn't do it justice... the camera didn't do to well with the mirror like finish of the lake, but hopefully you get the general idea of how beautiful it is there.

I made it to Susanville, CA that night, then Sunday morning, I left for the last leg of my trip, back to San Jose.  I was feeling good about making the trip... the difficulties I experienced, and overcame, the friends I got to see along the way, and the strangers I met and befriended, even if only for a few minutes.  I wasn't sure if I was happy to be going home or not.  I was really enjoying the freedom of being on the road and going where I wanted to go.  I also somehow felt more confident... I figured if I could make that road trip and deal with the issues I had without freaking out, I could handle just about anything that comes my way.  I was somehow changed after that road trip.  Stronger, calmer, things just didn't bother me much after that trip.

When I got back to work on Monday and told everyone about my week, they all thought I was crazy, but to me it was just what I do, it wasn't crazy at all.  It wasn't until many years later, thinking back, on it, that I realized that yeah... it really was pretty crazy.  But I wanted to do it, and I didn't really know any better, so I just dealt with the hand I got along the way.  Also, many years later, I would look back at a little notebook I kept on this trip.  I kept starting and ending mileage each day, and made some sparse notes about things that happened.  When I looked at this notebook many years later, I realized I had traveled close to 2000 miles in that one week.  My starting mileage at the beginning of the trip was just a little over 3000 miles.  I hadn't ridden many miles on the Nighthawk when I had it, and I realized that in that one week, I had probably traveled more than half as many miles as I had under my belt on a motorcycle up to that point.  Yeah... crazy.  But, I'm pretty stubborn and when I want to do something, I do it and I make it work, one way or another!! 

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Couple Road Trips on the Sportster-- Part 1

Timeframe: throughout 2000

Theo and I would ride together on occasional local rides, and he happily dated other women.  It seemed that he really didn't date, but went from relationship to relationship.  He often showed interest in me, but depending on the situation I told him I either wasn't interested in going out with a guy who already has a girlfriend, or I told him that he just broke up with a girl, he needs to spend a few months single before I'll go out with him.  None of the gals he dated rode motorcycles, and he really wanted to do a road trip to Yosemite, so he invited me.  I told him I would love to go, as I'd obviously never been there, having grown up in NJ and only been in CA for less than a year.  However, I reminded him that I wasn't interested in a relationship, so if we did the trip, we could share a room, but with separate beds.  He agreed, so we planned it.  He had been there many times, but I had not, so I packed some maps so I could keep track of how we got there and have an idea of where we were.  On the way there, we stopped along the side of the road to take a picture of a row of waterfalls in the distance.



Theo arranged for us to stay in a quaint little cabin at a place where he stayed before, and we had separate beds as discussed.  We got there Friday night, hiked Saturday and rode back on Sunday.  Our hike Saturday was really beautiful.  It was the first time I'd been able to get out and hike through a "real" forest with redwoods.  While we were on our hike, we heard water, but there was a chain link fence separating us from wherever the sound was coming from.... so we climbed the fence.  We hiked towards the sound of water and found a raging river.  We sat beside it, and had some snacks and water that we had packed in backpacks.
Me and Theo by the river... taken with his camera on a timer... :-)
On the hike back, we saw some sort of red growth sticking up out of the ground, so we put a pine cone next to it for size comparison and took a picture.


On the way back home Sunday, we stopped at a gas station for gas and to hydrate, and I was curious as to how we were going home.  Theo would not tell me.  He got very adamant about knowing the way, and there was no reason for me to know.  I laughed and told him I just wanted to compare it with my maps, which I had unfolded over the seat of the bike.  He got pretty angry, stormed off to his motorcycle, and took off.  I calmly walked out to the middle of the street and watched him go, so that if he expected me to run after him, he would know that I wasn't.  I then calmly walked back to my own bike, checked out the maps to figure out how to get back home, got on my bike, and make my way home.  I didn't hear from Theo for about 2 years, when I bumped into him in Hollister.  He was very apologetic and wanted to buy me lunch.  I asked him why he was sorry because quite honestly, I forgot about the incident and him.  When he reminded me, I just laughed.  It was no big deal to me, I got myself home and found out who he really was.  You see... in my mind, if bikers leave together, they go home together, no matter what happens.  He obviously didn't subscribe to that way of thinking.

A few months later I went on a similar road trip with a guy who was originally from Pennsylvania.  Only this time, we went to the historic train and film town of Jamestown.  He also got pissed off at me and left me at a gas station.  He at least turned around and came back to ride home with me.  I honestly think in both cases, even though I was very clear about it just being a friendship, that both men were pissed off that they didn't win me over that weekend.

That summer... Summer of 2000, when I only owned my Sportster for a couple of months, I decided to take a road trip to Seattle from my home in San Jose, to visit my friend Rick and his wife Nadine in Snohomish, WA.  I asked a couple of my friends to go with me, but it was too far for them... so I decided to go solo.  That year 4th of July fell on a Wednesday and the company I worked for gave us Monday and Tuesday off, along with Wednesday.  I took Thursday and Friday off to make a full week.  I took my time getting ready and packing Saturday morning, so I didn't leave until about 1:00pm.  I stopped every hour or two to get gas and rest, and I made it to Redding, CA by about 6:00pm.  I had a bite to eat then went into a hotel to get a room for the night.  They were sold out, so I tried a couple others.  I found out that all hotels in Redding were sold out so I asked if one of them could make a reservation for me somewhere further north.  They tried, but soon found out that all hotels were sold out all the way north past Meford, OR.  It seems that I wasn't the only one who decided to go on vacation over the long 4th of July week.

I thought about what to do... I could head back home and probably be home by about 11:00pm, or could keep going and hope to find a place to sleep for the night.  I figured hotels would be sold out no matter when I left, so decided to keep heading north.  As I rode, I went higher in altitude and the sun went down, so it got pretty cold.  I left San Jose with shorts and a tank top on under my leathers, and as the evening went on, I stopped and put on long johns that I had packed, as well as thermal shirts and as many layers as I could fit under my leathers... and I was still cold... and tired.  I stopped every half hour so that I could drink hot coffee, eat donuts, and be inside a warm building.  It was getting harder and harder to stay awake and be at a reasonable temperature.  Through it all, I remember being grateful I was on my own... I was really happy to not have to deal with someone else wining about wanting to go back home, or stop more frequently, or any other number of things they could wine about.  At one of my stops in Yreka, I ended up talking to a lady working at a mini-mart.  She told me in her younger days she had a great career at Hewlett-Packard.  She met her now husband and they married.  He was in the restaurant business, so she became a waitress to help with the business.  Even though they lived in Yreka, his restaurant was in Sacramento and he commuted back and forth.  He was killed in Sacramento and she stayed in Yreka working as a waitress, cashier and whatever she needed to do to make money to raise their children.  She said she and her children live in a trailer, and they leave the door open all day for the dog to go in and out... she has nothing worth stealing.

Throughout the night, I talked to various people and listened to their stories and told them some of mine.  Finally about 3:00am, I stopped at a little general store and gas station in Wolf Creek, OR. 

 
While I was trying to get warm inside, I talked to the cashier who was a man, and his name was Royal.  His son was there as well, and he told me his son was 15 today, July 2.  He was there helping to clean up the store.  I figured Royal must be an okay guy if he has a son... he probably wouldn't do anything that would get him in trouble and lose his son, so I relaxed more and talked with him.  He told me they own a Honda Rebel 250 and he and his son take turns riding it.  It has a charging problem so they sometimes have to jump start it from a car battery, which they did, at 3:00am when his son took off on it to go home.  I told Royal my situation, and that hotel desk clerks wouldn't even let me sleep on the floor of their lobby for just a half hour and I was dead tired.  He scratched his chin and slowly said, "Well, if you really don't mind sleeping on the floor, I can offer you the floor of a brand new storage building we just had built.  I'm the only one with a key, it's heated, and there's a big window on the front, so people can see in if anything were to happen.  You should be safe in there."  It's not something I normally would do, but he really seemed like a stand up guy... and I was really not in good condition to get on the bike and keep riding, after already riding for 13 hours, so I took him up on it.  I offered him some money or to buy him a cup of coffee but he refused.  He said, he isn't really going out of his way or doing anything that requires payment... just unlocking a door for me.  So, I took the tail bag off my Sportster and brought it into the building to use as a pillow for my head.  I kept my leathers on, because even though the building was heated, the floor was concrete so very cold.  I laid down on the concrete floor, put my head on the tail bag, and slept for a couple hours, in between the ring of the bell when car tires would go over the line to let the attendant know someone was outside and needing gas.  Oregon is the only other state besides New Jersey that pumps gas for drivers.

The storage building I slept in, with my Sportster next to it.
About 6:00am, the gas station was getting busier and the sun was coming up, so I got up, started the bike and took off, heading north again.  I really didn't sleep all that well, so after riding for a few hours, I pulled off the road about 10:00am.  The sky had been cloudy all morning and it was still cold, but I hit a sunny area, so I pulled into a parking lot, parked the bike and laid down on it to rest and warm up.  I had my head on the tank and my feet up on the tail bag.  I actually got a nice little nap and warmed up nicely.  I took off again, and quickly got cold again as the sun disappeared behind clouds.  I pushed on, hoping to make it to Seattle, but as I got closer to Portland, it started raining.  I had rain gear with me, but decided to just stop in Portland.  I checked in at a Holiday Inn, making sure they had a hot tub.  I then, went to my room, unpacked, put my bathing suit on, and soaked in the hot tub for literally an hour.  Once I was nice an warm, I went back up to the room, ordered room service, ate, went to sleep and didn't wake up until the next morning.  I was grateful that it rained and I had to stop to sleep for the day.  The next day, July 3, 2000, I went to Andy and Bax in downtown Portland to get some Polar Max and put it on for my ride to Seattle, in the rain pretty much the whole way.  I made it Rick and Nadine's late in the day and they had Gumbo for dinner... it was so good and warmed me up perfectly.

Well, still so much to write about this road trip... I will have to make it a 2-parter... stay tuned for part 2, my birds are calling me!!