A small tribute to my lost brother,,comrade..We walked a fine line between citizen and low life for many a moon, never captured, always close..we lived in a time where a man took his differences out the backdoor and slugged it out..never a real winner and when it was done it was done..thrill, spills and chills..lived for today...partied like it was 1999..go figure...we grew..we learned hell we reformed some..here was the first ride..
Meet Ernie in the winter of 1982..building automated box forming machines..I was the wire man and he was the wrench..we spent the first few weeks wondering who was gonna snap first until we finally settled in and decided to go share the first brew..We were exact opposites Ernie was out of the low rider world..clubber..I was still lone wolfing..rider and walking a fine line..we hit it off at a little club, the White Water Tavern..the start of 30 years of friendship...of life..
Ernie had an old pan, beat and worn..must of been January we decide to tackle it, I had boxes of parts and bling..Ernie had a warm garage and cold beer..so when we could pull ourselves away from fine dive bars, strip joints and tattoo parlor's we rebuild that pan..Wrapped it road ready in mid April..and decided to ride..
That first Friday night we cashed our checks and got ready to roll..I 'm thinking I'm gonna lay back and watch this psyco grease monkey for a bit..well the dirty one knew his way around a throttle..we headed to the Bomb Shelter.. Now in 1982 a biker bar was a little different then they tend to be today..in fact that might be why they don't really exist anymore..todays bike bars are black tie to these dives..Back to the Bomb Shelter..now the parking was in back and the only way to get there was through the bar..made for an interesting approach to parking and walking to the head..better look both ways before you take a leak..so we roll in, first night riding.. Nice 50 miles trip getting the feel of the road..found comfort riding with the freak..not something that happened much..
So a couple of brews down and not much action we decide to hit the Backdoor..another dive with what were called dancers..always fun..well almost...a dead night a the hotspots happen it was early and the air was warm..we headed to the hills..Maybe the Snowline..as we are pumping some ethyl the dirty one asked if I had ever been to the Roadhouse..Badger..No never heard of it..we turn off on 245 and rolled through the night, twisting and turning till we pulled up to the little wooden barn...could hear the bad band cranking..smell the grill cooking...taste the mountain air..freedom of the ride still shacking through my bones as we walked in the door..ever step in a joint and knew it was right..it fit..We walked through those doors a few hundred times over the years and it always felt good..we found our hole..we partied till the sun cracked over the hills..thank you Bro..
I'm missing you Brother..we learned..we grew..we fought..we stood side by side and back to back..toe to toe a few times..we never backed up or backed down..always moving ahead..right or wrong at times..Not much really matter we could laugh..long and hard at anything..You maybe laughing at me now..I get it..at 20 never gonna live to 30 at 30 it was never gonna see 40..at 40 it was any day now..well we out lived our expectations and we did it well my friend..I'm not gonna hurry catching up with you..but everyday I'll think about a love affair with Tanya Tucker singing Delta Dawn in in that broke dick dog Impala and laugh my ass off..Mr. Pelican..See ya bro..
Lifes has to many twists and turns to ever understand, you were here now your gone. Wasn't there beside you but for a few seconds, you fought hard, always did..
We were lucky in life my brother, we rode hard, fought hard, worked hard, we laughed hard...We shared the good the bad the ugly...alway laughing..Ride that long dusty road my brother on that pan that never breaks...enjoy greasy burgers that don't plug your viens...we will ride again someday...
I hope to finish this someday...good bye my friend...
The pretty Blue 67 Shovel reminded me of the first new real Harley I remember,,,guy next doors Dad bought one and I can still feel the thrill of the first time he took me for a ride....Thanks Les...see what you started..
Had some eye surgery..and ear I guess..sort of stopped my riding for the last couple of weeks..getting better..well not as foggy anyway..