April 23rd 1980..siting in plane on a tarmac in Germany, locked and loaded ready for war..Mission would have been Iran..It's as close as I would come to war as I look around the plane and think of the people who I would trust with my life, those of taught me...those who matter in a time of unknowing..

Staff Sargent Wayne Johnson.. My drill..could not sing cadence but knew how to make boy's into men..

Staff Sargent James Davis..Sat me down and talked to me one day at lengthen..Never understood you until we boarded the plane..

Specialist Terry Allen..my friend still today..Hogwaller Ky..clown and radio man deluxe..

PFC Lafayette Gross..Being in the field was a kick..you proved the disbelievers wrong didn't you..a man of his word..

Sargent Greg Kanhi..been here before,,grabbed the bull by the horns and took the lead..many were great full to you that day..

And the of the 2nd and 4th infantry..Drive on..

Thanks to all who serve our great country and there family's who support them..Freedom lives on today from the sacrifices all who have served make..God Bless America.. 

Fiddy.....

Damn, would have never thought I would be sitting here staring at my first chance to join AARP..good discounts but man just the thought brought on wrinkles...and gas..Funny how the package arrived yesterday..LOL,,,,Some some thoughts of a half a century...

John F. Kennedy was elected president on the day I was born..I didn't vote for him and kept Mom and Dad from doing the same..I took my time..one of the few times in life I didn't rush in..

Went to my first Giants game when I was four..don't remember it but congratulations to the Giants long time coming...

The 1960's were a blur..remember watching the news with dad..the war both here and abroad..our country was in turmoil..riots and such..I do remember driving through Watts after the riots there..my first trip to Disney land..

The 1970's..ya..the teen years..did good in school, played sports then one day I stumbled into the first sweetheart..the first motorcycle..the first sip of beer...the first joint and life was never the same..Let the wild ride begin...First Harley..1964 Panhead..never looked back..US Army..best thing I ever did..

The 80's..Pretty much started with my first ride..I mean 3 months on the road,,Cali, Arizona, Texas..ending in the land of oz..snow and cold..brief history between parting and stopping parting I made it to Florida a few times..rode the shrimp boats..Rode from Ft.Meyer Beach to Vancouver BC..for the worlds fair..just because..Got maried, got unmarried..Got drunk and got sober...made choices..most worked out..

The 90's..never figured on getting this far..so I put some effort into them..good jobs, stability, picket fences.. Credit card debit..boredom..didn't ride much...grew up or tried..found out success and happiness don't always go hand in hand..spent more time riding..moved away from corporate America..

The 2000's..who would have figured the computers didn't crash..started on a roll..turned into a roller coaster..have enjoyed the last ten years for all the good and bad..rode lot's more..been on top and near the bottom..got older and acted younger..Other than the hair and diet not much has changed..some little known facts..

I know far less today than when I was 18...and it's a good thing..

Road bugs still taste the same..just easier to digest..

Have learned it is sometimes better to shut up..have not learned how to use my new found skill..

No matter what the doctors say's..greasy burgers come before healthy salads..

The best things in life tend to get away..that's life..

Getting old is all a state of mind..and I lost that years ago..see ya in 2060...

Roller Coasters, Stress and the Wind....

Sort of a blurry picture seems to fit..Been on a roller coaster...been at the limits of stress and frustration..self inflicted to an extent,,added to by outside forces..All work and no play tends to make the Rat edgy..A common simple goal has become a quest..the closer it get the bigger the road blocks seems to be..I need a cure..

Now assholes and dumb fucks are a fact of daily life..For the most part you learn how to avoid them, play them or work them to your advantage..But there are times when you can be overwhelmed by them and it causes stress..The kind of stress you need to work through..find relief..I have a few cures that work well, like blasting watermelons with a shotgun...Double tapping Bin Laden pictures with a .45..ya there might be other pictures that work but we don't need to go there..we need Ride..

Laying in bed, head humming..can't relax and know sleep will never come..simple goal..became so complex..I roared all day at the wrong people because of it..Now laying here it's all soaking in..I need relief..Shotguns, hand guns and long guns are out of the question..I get up..pull on my riding boots..No certain plan..just search for the cure..find peace in the wind...

The old Shovel roars to life..all these years together it seems to know when to behave..we roll..dark and warm for November..as we roll through town a direction I never go..a ride I never make..a road I never take..as the lights fade in my mirrors I crank back the throttle..damn if they could only put this feeling in a bottle..

Now some day's the cure means you have to go fast...riding like hell, escaping your past..Sometimes it means riding mellow and slow..releasing your mind just letting it go..each ride is different..meaning the same..all to escape life and  its' little screwed up game..

Got no where to go, no place to be..just me and my Harley riding to be free..the wind washes through me with it's crisp autumn breeze...me and the wind, road and the shadows of tree's..The roar of the pipes fills the air....leaving me smiling and without a care..time passes without effort..life becomes right as I crank back my throttle and wonder into the night..soaked in the light of the moon and the stars..I grab me a gear and pass me some cars..

The amazing feel of freedom...The cure from the road...I drop down the throttle, kick down a gear..The pipes at an idle is all that I hear..

See ya next time....

Damn..

Sat down gonna tell a story...Instead I tossed snake eyes..not once but two days running..Promised a story and got it run through my mind..or what's left of it..drew a blank..seems that happens much more these days..Good thing is I can laugh about it..

Had a few things on my mind that I needed..What I really needed couldn't be had..This ain't Kansas Dorthy and with enough green in my pocket for a pack of smokes, tank of gas and greasy burger that wasn't happening..So you do the next best thing,,,kick her over..bang a gear head down to the local pit stop, pump Ethel and grab a box of cancer sticks,,Head for the grade..

Now Boyd's Grade is mine since the dirty one ran off to Utah and joined his sheet metal cult it made me the king..on todays ride it worked out good..was in no mood to be avoiding his slow ass on the way up..Been 2 years since I passed a car on the grade but I still suck air and get aware flying through those blind curves..but with living large and eating greasy in my near future I turned the throttle back a little tighter..It brought back memories..

About 30 years ago, this old Shovelhead was shiny red and new..I knoe everything at the time..and was one bad mother biker until I meet a biker..Same place,,same bike just a couple of decades later I was making the same ride..I remember pulling up to the bar that day..hitching up my new Hein Grecike chaps as I bellied up to the bar..There sitting beside me was this grizzled old son of a bitch..hell he had to be 35 or so..washed up a tired looking...I had a beer and a shot then another..I said something to the old timer..don't remember what it was but I am sure it fell into the inappropriate category..He eyeballed me and laughed..Now laughing at a bad man is a mistake..I made a point of making that point clear..He smiled and said lets go outside..

Now being a smart bad mofo..I let him go first..wanna see every move..as we stepped out the door the old timer with lighting speed and agility had his hand on my throat and me pinned to the wall..never saw it coming..he leaned his ugly old mug, bad breath and broken teeth the right up close and sorta whispered "you got choices boy..Get on that ugly red thing of yours and hit the road, get your ass stomped or come back in, be civil and buy me a beer..

Well I wasn't ready to put my tail between my legs..anymore than it was already that is..Pretty easy to decide the ass beating was not an options so I dug out my wallet and bought him a beer..6 or 8 if I remember right..Wally you ugly old timer..I learned more about being a biker in those few seconds than I had in years,,thank you friend..and Sunshine..this one was all yours..and the burgers at the end of the road were still greasy..damn..

Can't avoid the void..

I have tried to kick my political habit..I have grown weary of the system as a hole..I spelled that right..it's a hole, big hole..let your mind wonder..It's seems every new election the shit slinging grows larger and the answers grow smaller..nobody has a plan..They all suck..here is the Rat's insight..

First let's touch on the demo-commies..in power they have bankrupted the country..not just future generations but in spirit..no one really cares anymore..The end is near..those who have spoken out have grown weary..The steams gone from the engine...here's why...

The Grand Ole Party..Republicans..have dropped the ball..Nothing on the table, set back and let the country fall apart..No plan just sit back and wait,,in my humble way of thinking makes them just a dumb as the N'Obomakins..But then again nothing being done might be better than what has been done..maybe..then we have the tea party..

Labeled as wacko's and racist..demeaned by the left and shunned by the right..To far out there..I begin to wonder if when the founding fathers of our great country decided screw the king were stepping out on our own if they were labeled wacko's..I am thinking so..Now the only problem I see is how long can they keep it going..will it fade away like Ross Perot..only time will tell..

The Rat's thinking nothing will change..I'm gonna do the same thing in the voting booth I have done for years..Follow the R's...never marked a D yet..and wonder when we as Americans will stand up and take our country back..just a thought..

Dirty One..

Shit happens, woke up to the sound of someone trying to get in my front door Friday night..No need need to jack one in the chamber just slide off the safety..Hey if it ain't loaded it's no better than owning a rock right..as I sneak down the hallway hoping to use up some old ammo..a greasy ass head pops through the door..Fuck bro put that thing down..Damn Ernie you should of called..I did you broke dick dog..your phones off..Oh yea I hate that thing..Dirty and his better half had arrived..I forgot all about it..Make yourself at home I got to do the slave thing in the morning..

My bro came to get that oil dripping greasy bag pan out of my way..and get in some ride time..Saturday is out my friend..well maybe a short in the evening..Instead we fired up the grill a shared old times and new times..expanded on old stories and created new..laughed about the good and bad..Talked about how it just is not the same not sneaking off and getting in late night burger runs,,casino trips..eat Maria's cooking till we were ready to explode..

Sunday morning as the suns cracking over the Sierra Nevada's the sound of the old pan and the shovel fill the driveway, to the dismay of neighbors I'm sure..As we roll out heading to the hills..as we climb towards pine flat lake the sun starts to warm our bones..blasting pipes warming the soul..It's comfort that's been missing since the Dirty One made his run for the boarder..the shit eating grin on his ugly mug tells me he feels it too..

Grab a total grease bomb burrito at Doyles..together with the worst cup of horse piss ever that was apssed off as coffee..self inflicted injury..knew better..we head towards Wonder Valley..If you ever ride through what you will wonder is why anybody would want to live there..The rattlesnakes move out in the summer..as we head for the giant redwoods..maybe a stop a Snowline..tell some lie's about all the fights we won..and lost there over the years..We rolled..hard and fast..morning wind alive and well..

Rolling through the park..just slowing down to take in the Big tree's, General Grant and Sherman..and the rest of the true giants..If you have never seen them make it a point..we head towards 245...old huants..old friends and a ride long over due..

Hit the Mountain House..rice burners packing the lot..we find a spot in the back and shut them down..The Sunday bad band trying to be cool..Couple of old time gypsy leather clad brother sitting in the back as we order a belly bomb burger and head back..been a year since I crossed path with Rey and Too Tall..had a good lunch with good hard riding friends..and started the last leg of the summer..

As we rolled off the last rolling hill at the end of what was to be a short day that went long..a high five at 60..a couple of passes through small burgs with the pipes screaming..a little to fast..a gear to high and that catch me if you can attitude we brought them home..Life's good as we load the pan in the trailer and head in to see what the boss cooked up..gonna miss ya my greasy brother..be safe.. 

Joke of the day..

Obama dies and finds himself
before the Pearly Gates.  He is very
excited; all his life he's had a secret wish and
longed to meet the Prophet Mohammed.  Having
arrived at the Gates of Heaven, Barack meets a man with a beard.

'Are you Mohammed?' he asks.

'No, my son.  I am Peter.  Mohammed is higher up.'

Peter then points to
a ladder that rises into the clouds.  Delighted
that Mohammed should be higher than Peter, Obama
climbs the ladder in
great strides, climbs through the clouds coming to a
room where he meets another bearded man.

He asks again, 'Are you Mohammed?'

'No, I am Moses.  Mohammed is higher still.'
Exhausted, but with a heart full of joy he climbs the ladder
yet again, he discovers an even larger room where he
meets another man with a beard.

Full of hope, he asks again,
'Are you Mohammed?'

'No, I am Jesus . . . You will
find Mohammed higher up.'

Mohammed higher than
Jesus!  Man! Obama can hardly contain his
delight and climbs and climbs, ever higher.

Once again, he reaches a larger room where he meets a man

with a beard and repeats his question:  'Are you
Mohammed?' he gasps as he is,
by now, totally out of breath from all his climbing.

'No, my son . . . . I am
Almighty God. But you look exhausted.
Would you like a cup of coffee?
''Yes!  Please, my Lord.'

God looks behind him, claps his hands and yells
out:  'Yo!  Mohammed! Two coffees!'

 

Keep your trust in God -  Your government has
failed you miserably.

Mr. President..let's set the record straight..

After hearing your whine as to how you have been treated by the right like a dog I feel for the sake of all dogs out there we need to set the record straight..

Unlike yourself mister president most dogs obey their masters..No dog in his right mind would pass a health care bill that his masters did not support..No dog in it's right mind would continue to blame  others for there complete incompetence..Dogs learn from their mistakes and try to do their honest best to not make the same mistake over and over again...

Dogs don't lie..or bankrupt the countries future..Dogs have common sense,,they understand you don't bite the hand that feeds you..Dogs don't do things that hurt our economy, raise taxes or spend more time on Oprah than they do guarding their territory..Taking care of business ya know..

So next time you feel the pressure and need relief by speaking out on how your have been treated try "cockroach"...It's a much better fit..and doesn't insult the good dogs of America

Rat.. 

New Kid on the block..and I mean chopping block..

Just rolled in the door...Damn thing made me want to be a cop..well almost..All the cop stuff is gone,,but it has a brand new 103 Screaming Eagle..Before I take the torch to it anyone interested..Drop me a line and I will send you pics..if not,,well we will see what it turns out to be..

Shovel may get to go back together for one last run..don't think I will get the old dog done before Slab City..and we are going to Slab City so..back together it goes...Rat Rods, old Harley's and punk rock..I can't think of a better way to spend the 50th..

Configuring it out...

When the brain fart storm hit I knew what I wanted..Hardtail rat..when reality stroked me and the hazy memory of my hardtail pan set in I went to work on the design at the swing arm...Easy right..not so fast..I have a fatboy rear I want to run..with the new brakes..I also want to drop the ass end another 1 1/2 inches..

Now it becomes geometry..Widen the swing arm an inch, move the shocks..Make them work and clear a fender..Geometry lay them down..forward on top or back at the bottom..shorter shocks, less travel..upper brackets have to be changed..lower brackets will be wider as I stretch the swing arm..Off to the drawing board..

For those who have never experienced this it can be as good as the ride..The sense of accomplishment..the frustration that turns to smiles as you see it come together..let the fun begin..