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Stories From The Road
A Hole in My Glove
Story From: Steve Maddex
I'm a newbie. It's been six weeks since I bought my "scrappy" little 650 Seca and I have logged well over five hundred miles (all on back country roads). Central California (Paso Robles) is just a tangle of beautiful winding, back country roads. All of which I highly recommend...during the day.
My adventure started when, after a wonderful day of BBQ ribs, sun, music and fireworks I left with the masses to go home. The problem was that all the traffic was re-routed away from the straight two mile ride home I expected and out into the tangle of pitch black, curvy, out-in-the middle-of-no-where, half-paved roads. After fifteen minutes of winding and turning, I found myself lost and being tail-gaited by a car full of teens, hell-bent on "Yee-Haw-ing" their way to some Forth of July, after fireworks party; And I was in their way.
At the very first opportunity I pulled off to the side of the road to avoid becoming a hood ornament or a greasy spot. Did I mention the roads were half paved....I pulled over, right in the gravel and try as I might to keep the rubber side down, I failed. The bike and I took about a fifteen foot slide. Needless to say, the teens were either pre-occupied, didn't notice or didn't care that they had sent me to the tarmac.
Moments later a very nice lady in a little red honda pulled over to ask if I was alright and said she would stay until I was up and running.
My little bike roared back to life and in just a few minutes I was back on the road. I was a little sore and dis-oriented, but felt o.k. to ride home.
On the ride home all manner of things went through my mind: Broken bike, broken bones, broken hearted wife. I'm nearly forty and worried about explaining this all to my Mother, who had forbid me to ride as a teen.
Well, when I got home and wiped off myself and the bike I called and thanked my Mother. When I left the house that morning I remembered all those things she worried about and took the time to wear my big leather boots, my levi's, my leather jacket, helmet and my leather gloves. When all was said and done, because I wore all of my safety gear I was completely untouched, except for a hole on my glove.
My wife and I have decided to hang that glove on the back of the front door, so that as I leave to ride I will remember why I bother to wrap myself up in leather and hope that each and everyone who reads this will do the same.
And...by the way....call your Mother and let her know you got home safe from your trip. No matter how old you are, I promise she will appreciate it.
Wrapped in Leather....
Steve "Phoenix" Maddex
P.S. I was inspired to ride by re-reading "The Mouse and the Motorcycle" by Beverly Cleary. It's only 150 pages and if you ride, you should read it to your kids. It was written the same year i was born, 1965.
