Rally Time!
C. Michael Wingfield
It’s time to start
planning to attend the Natural State Rally, scheduled for May 14-16, 2004 at
Sequoia Park at the Arkansas river Lock and Dam No. 9, located south of
Morrilton AR, just off Arkansas Highway 9, south of the Arkansas River bridge
and 5 miles south of the intersection of U.S. highway 64 and Arkansas Highway
9. Registration fee is 6 dollars a
night to cover camping. Rally patches
and t-shirts will be for sale separately.
Facilities and showers are on site. There are plenty of restaurants
nearby in Morrilton. For answers to
your questions regarding the rally, you can contact Charlie Bishop at
501-455-4542 or Morris Hale, at 501-765-4253.
Please plan of coming to the rally!
Annual Meeting
The
Naturally Beemers Annual Meeting was conducted on March 27, 2004 at the Western
Sizzlin in Conway, Arkansas. According
to Charlie Bishop, the follow is an except of the minutes of the meeting:
The meeting
was called to order by President Otto Ising.
A motion
was made to proceed to the election of new officers. Another motion was made to retain the current slate of
officers. The motion was seconded and
passed. Charlie Bishop was assured that new rally chairpersons would be
selected at the rally.
New members
were welcomed. Little Rock BMW has been
supplying club memberships with each new BMW purchased.. Special recognition was given to BMW of
Little Rock owner, James Wilbanks.
Rod Kilduff
provided the membership list, which has grown to three pages of names.
Jerry
Reynolds reported that the club bank balance was $1292.57.
Rally
shirts were discussed, and it was decided that we would keep the same design as
last year. 4 dozen shirts were ordered.
After some
indecision by the Corp of Engineers, we were assured the same rally site. Charlie Bishop and Morris Hale will chair
the rally.
Jim Scott
has made the trophies. Come to the
rally and see how fine they really are!
Special
thanks to Fred Counts and Lee Kubiki who have hosted numerous impromptu
campouts this year. The bring firewood,
food, coolers, snacks, cups and eating hardware. Fred usually cooks up a world class chili, and Lee is always
faithful to provide plenty of coffee, and he and Fred are usually the firsts
one’s up in the morning to get the coffee brewing.
The fall
campout will be determined at the rally.
With no
other business, the meeting was adjourned.
From the Editor’s Desk
by Mike
2004 Dues
Please Pay Your Dues!
The rates are still the same bargain at $10 per individual and $15 per
family. Send to:
Jerry
Reynolds
1200
Donaghey Ave
Conway, AR
73034
Wanted Newsletter Material: Always
We are
always soliciting for newsletter articles.
Send that article you have always intended to write. Many thanks to
those of you; who have submitted material already. You are allowed to
send in more. Send the materials
to: Mike Wingfield, 2402 S. Taylor,
Little Rock, AR 72204, or e-mail to: CMWINGFIELD@UALR.EDU.
New Members
There are a lot of new members. A complete new members list will be provided
at the rally.
.
Activities
FLEA MARKET
There is no charge for the ad; we
only ask that you be honest and fair. Naturally Beemers is not responsible for
the quality of the items or any transactions made because of the ad. Ads will run for two issues of the
newsletter unless extended.
Don’t forget the 10% Club Member Discount at Bentonville
Cycle Sales.
Also don’t forget the 10% Club
Member Discount at BMW Motorcycles
of Little Rock.
Harlan
Brown is selling his 2002 GS1150. The
bike can be seen at BMW Motorcycles of Little Rock.
THIS AREA IS BLANKS AS A RESULT OF NO ONE SUBMITTING ANY MATERIAL FOR THE NEWSLETTER.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Please
submit something for future newsletters……ride reports, new equipment, divorce,
whatever………………..
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Another BMW rally, by Boo
Also known as Brett Mitchell
My Trip to GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally - Part 1
By Jerry Atrichs
Part 1: Apollo 11 and Me
Ever since I received the January '95 issue of the BMWMOA ON I have wanted to
regain my strength enough to attend the Geriatric Internet BMW Riders With
Orange Triangles On Their Backs Late Fall Rally, December 5-7 in Ishpeming,
MI. Thanks to a new liver from a 14-year-old girl from Nova Scotia, 1997
was my year!
It all started at 8:00 sharp Thursday morning. I had just picked up my
K1100LT (1100 lb Light Truck) at International BMW (Hi, Mikey, Bob and Jerry!
Sorry they're shutting you down soon.) and shared 3 cups of FREE coffee, got
FREE advice as to attaching reflective markings on my new 65-litre tail trunk,
and FREE tire air rotation for "Apollo 11", my K1100LT. My
wife, pillion, and used parts source (since she donated me a kidney in '89),
Dale, dropped me off as I began putting on my lycra bicycle shorts, my Pricey
Brand Deluxe Exclusive model electric vest, pants, gloves, truss, and socks, my
silver and blue BMW one-piece riding/pressure suit with special modification to
attach my colostomy bag, my insulated neck brace, my goretex SensiBoots with
the lift in the left heel, my cataract protectors, and my welder's
gloves. Just as I was about to put on my BMW System III helmet with
intercom and oxygen, Mikey came out to the parking lot to tell me Dale just
called and wanted to know where the heck I was. She had been locked out
of the house for 45 minutes. I forgot I like to keep the only key so she
can't go anywhere. I let my bike warm up for the recommended 20 minutes
and was on my way.
When I pulled up, I saw Dale asleep on the porch in my electric sleeping
bag. She had been waiting 3 hours for me. My orange triangle fell
off and I had to go back and look for it. I let her in the house and kissed
her good-bye, then locked the door again. Dale isn't going this
trip. Just me and "Apollo 11". I finished loading my
saddle bags, 65-litretail trunk, BMW tank bag and pockets with all my
provisions and prescriptions, and pulled out of the drive way just as it was
getting dark. I rode to my next door neighbor, Fred's house and decided
that was a good place to stop for the night.
I set up my tent and Therma-rest and drained the colostomy bag, settling down
to a nice slumber at about 7:30. I was sound asleep when I was rousted by
two policemen and Fred. After Fred found out it was me we had a laugh and
headed into the kitchen for some FREE coffee and Mary's Pecan Pie (for
FREE). A small explosion resulted from a combination of the gas-purge
valve not working on my colostomy and Mary's lit Vantage Ultra-lite, so I was
looking for an excuse to evacuate to some fresh air.
I noticed it was 4:30 in the morning, so I broke camp to get an early start on
the 700-plus miles I'd be riding to get to the Rally before Sonny and
Red. Red would be coming from the Mayo Clinic, and Sonny would be coming
from University Hospital in Pittsburgh. I was the farthest away in
Toronto. I had the advantage of having not had radiation treatments
lately like Red, or chemotherapy like poor old Runny Sonny, but I was going to
have to haul some backside to beat them to Ishpemming.
I stopped for my heart medication and three more cups of coffee (I had to pay
for the first one, the other two were FREE) at the BP station on the corner
(Hi, Mohammed and Saeed!) I looked at the clock on my
defibrillator. I had been on the road for 15 hours and had gone a little
under 6 miles. A new record! I got out my journal to record the
event and had Saeed take my picture. I topped off the tank with a half
gallon of Plus and whined down the sidestreets like a Hummingbird. No, an
arrow, except for the turns. No, it was more like a cow or other
bovine. The asphalt ribbon opened before me and life was good. I
had just hit 39 MPH's and something happened. My defibrillator was
beeping! Had I forgotten to turn on my oxygen cylinder? Should I
have
taken a liver pill instead of my heart pill at the last stop? As I pulled
to the side of the road, I noticed the beeping subsided, so I
poured myself three hot cups of coffee from the thermos I had filled when
Mohammed and Saeed were picking up "Apollo 11" after it fell over at
the pumps. I checked my orange triangle, my oxygen, and emptied my
colostomy. I was off again! I had some serious time to make
up. I was still 650 miles from the Upper Peninsula line and it was
beginning to get dark!
Five miles down the road I hit 39 and I heard my defibrillator go off
again. I began to look around the roomy interior of my K1100LT,
"Apollo 11". The electronic tire pressure monitor-OK.
GPS-set for "stealth". Oxygen-normal. Colostomy-1/3
full. Then I noticed the light in the third row of indicators flashing
synchronously with the beep. Oh, yeah! The Sleeping Policeman
Automatic speed monitor's threshold was set for 40 from the last time I was in
a 45 MPH zone. Since I was on open interstate now, I could bump it up to
54 MPH.
The sun crept down, but I rode on for another 25 minutes. I was in
downtown Hartford, so a campground was out of the question. I pulled my
K100LT "Apollo 11" into a bus stop shelter next to a dented, but
healthy R75/6 and set up my tent on a steam grate next to my new friend,
Melveeta who was huddled under a box he had taken away from a homeless
woman. As I closed my eyes I reflected and re-lived every second of a 10
hour, 17-mile day in the saddle.
My Trip to GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally - Part 2
By Jerry Atrichs
Riding with Melveeta
The third day of my odyssey began with raindrops hitting my face. During
the night, my tent was stolen. The hose popped off my colostomy, and
excrement had saturated my sleeping bag. Two vagabonds were kicking a man
about ten feet away. At first, I only could thank God above it wasn't
me. But, as I sat up, one of the street urchins noticed my shiny things
and approached me. The man who was being stomped then was able to
overpower his lone attacker and crush his windpipe with the heel of his
engineer boot. As I struggled to extricate myself from my fece-incrusted
cocoon, the second attacker was stabbed from behind with a funny, flattened
teardrop-shaped screwdriver like I had never seen before.
"Thanks for the help, Medicaid," the ruffian sneered. He
quickly wadded up his blanket, cigarettes, and tool roll, and tied them to his
seat with a length of clothesline. Since I no longer had any possessions,
I shuffled over to hold up "Apollo 11" as he kicked his slash
six. After six or more kicks, he hit the electric starter and it managed
to turn it over. When it fired, it sounded like thunder in the bus
shelter. I then noticed the factory BMW mufflers were replaced with
Volkswagen Beetle pea-shooters. Enough smoke belched from his left
tailpipe to make me wish for my oxygen tank that I see has been ripped from the
mounts on my K100LT "Apollo 11". Luckily, the
perpetrators weren't able to open my 65-litre tail trunk. I put on
my riding/pressure suit and helmet, switched to a new oxygen cylinder, and
locked the colostomy bag onto its hose. Locked and ready to load.
I hit the starter on my K1100LT, "Apollo 11" and asked my new riding
buddy if he minded waiting for the recommended twenty minute warm-up.
Just then, he ran out of gas. He helped himself to a gallon out of my
tank. I was happy to oblige as it gave me the required time for proper
warm up. He got his mighty blue boxer started again, and I asked him his
name.
"Melveeta, with three e's," was his reply. As we took off down
the street, I nervously scanned for someplace to get free coffee. After
three blocks, I spied a funeral home with a viewing in progress. Melveeta
showed no signs of slowing. In fact, as soon as traffic got lighter, he
actually sped up and weaved in between cars, passing on the left and
right. Well, if he wasn't experienced enough to recognize free coffee, I
just had to let him go. Melveeta, warrior of the morning, blazes his own
path without free coffee. What a martyr! Farewell, Melveeta!
Another day, perhaps.
Griswell Funeral Parlour (Hi, Elizabeth, Larry, and Bill! Rest in peace,
Arnold!) is a first class place to be dead or alive. They even had
sugar cubes instead of packets. How long has it been since you've seen
those? I chatted with the widow, and remarked how natural Arnold
looked. I got a price list from Larry Griswell, and will probably be
using his services soon. I had my three FREE cups of coffee and filled my
pockets with muffins and sweet rolls.
Looking at my watch I realized it was now close to eleven-hundred hours,
Ishpeming loomed over 645 miles away. I expressed my condolences, checked
my orange triangle, and was on my way. After sixteen blocks, my colostomy
was full and tank nearly empty, so I pulled into a BP station (Hi, guy who
wouldn't talk to me!). I put one-and-a-half gallons of Plus in the tank,
emptied my bag, and managed to gulp down another 3 cups of coffee (paid for the
first one, the other two were FREE!). I called Dale and told her I
wouldn't be home until Tuesday. She told me to take my time. Still
a little over 640 miles to go, and not much daylight. I mounted up.
After the last fuel stop, I realized the GPS was acting up. The indicator
continued to make circle after circle and the altitude climbed higher. I
fixated on the glowing green dot and pressed on for nearly and eighth of a
mile. I looked over the windscreen and realized I had been riding in a
parking garage. Fortunately, I discovered this before reaching the top
floor. After a half hour of some of twistiest roads I'd ever ridden on, I
reached the parking attendant and paid him for the full two hours, even though
I'd only been in there an hour and a half.
As I left the city limits, I was afflicted with white line fever. Three
full hours and 70 miles later, I decided I'd be best off finding a place
to stay while it was still light. The sun was low on the horizon when I
pulled into the Super 8 Motel (Hi, Latifa! I hope your cold sore is
better!).
I was ready for a little barley therapy. I checked in and changed into my
Sansabelt Slacks and loafers. Latifa told me the closest bar was a gentleman's
club across the street. As I neared the front door to Nasti Jack's (Hi,
Jack, Brandi, Mindi, Sandi, Cyndi, Cathi, and Suzi), I notice a blue, dented
but healthy R75/6.
Nah. Couldn't be.
My Trip to
GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally - Part 3
By Jerry Atrichs
Those can't be real!
The wrinkled, abbreviated exhaust of the slash six glistened in the light rain
of the evening. When I looked at the odometer, it read 9,853 miles.
Hah! Hardly a mileage slave! Even my K1100LT, "Apollo 11"
has more than that! It did appear rather worn, though. The pilot of
this machine doesn't know what Turtle Wax and Gummout are for. On the
glass of the speedo were 12 hash marks from the grease pencil attached to the
S-fairing's right mount by a string. Several receipts, a map, and a few
condoms were wedged in between the windshield and the dashboard of the
fairing. It looks as though I will have someone to drink with after
all. I entered the club and immediately ordered a Guinness. The
topless bartender informed me that only American was spoken there, so I instead
opted for something called a Pabst Blue Ribbon. I surveyed the room
looking for my road-brother, and finally spotted him in the corner. I
walked over to the dirty couch he was sprawled on and said "Hello."
Melveeta didn't respond. He was mesmerized by the busty red-head
strutting on the stage. As her heaving breasts jiggled and slapped
together, Melveeta dashed for the empty seat at one of the tables at the edge
of the stage. The other fellows at the table gave Melveeta a wide berth,
abandoning their ring-side seats for the safety of the bar. The red-head
began lifting every can in reach of the stage as if to check for the volume of
beer. When she lifted Mel's beer, she nodded. He quickly laid on
his back on the table. The red-head lifted one breast and inserted the
Budweiser can into the space underneath. Then when she let go, the can
was supported in much the same manner as the pencil would be in the infamous
pencil-test. She then dumped the beer into Melveeta's mouth
no-handed! I suspected Melveeta had not been breast fed as a baby due to
his delight at this development. After Melveeta righted himself, the
red-head pulled out her garter as if to ask for a tip. Melveeta declined
causing her to make a secret gesture to the bouncer who quickly ejected
him. I went outside to see if he needed any assistance. There sat
Melveeta, the warrior of the morning, in a puddle of his own bodily fluids.
"You probably don't recognize me without my riding suit," I
suggested. "We camped out last night together."
"Step off, ya 'mo! I don't camp out. I pass out," was the
response.
"I notice you don't have too many miles on that bike of yours. It's
really cherry."
"Odometer's busted, nib-shit. I've been using the trip and marking
the thousands with a pencil since spring."
"I have some Turtle Wax in my 65-litre tail trunk at the motel, if you
want to use it before we head out tomorrow. Some Windex for that
windshield? A little Armour All? I brought a chamois."
Melveeta threw a leg over his slash six and kicked it until it started.
"Sure, sounds good."
He popped the clutch and shortly disappeared around the corner of the motel,
not before I heard his bike sputter and die. Poor lad must have run out
of gas, and not a filling station in sight.
Adieu, pedestrian warrior of the morning. Till we meet again.
My Trip to
GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally - Part 4
By Jerry Atrichs
All Dressed Up and No Place to Go
I woke up in the motel lobby soon after that. It seems I forgot my
insulin which had resulted in a mini-coma. Some industrial chemical
salesmen (Hi, Denny, Jim and Dennis!) who were staying at the motel found me in
front of Nasti Jack's and brought me to the desk clerk (Hi, Latifa!) after attempting
to revive me by kicking me and urinating on my face. Luckily, one of them
was also diabetic and just enough sweetened pee got in my mouth to bring me
around. Thanks, guys!
I asked Latifa if I could sleep in the lobby in case I had another seizure.
She refused so I went back to my room with my colostomy in tow to vomit and
shower. I sure coulda used some coffee then! Instead, I settled for
some well-deserved shut-eye. The next morning I washed my socks and
underwear out in the sink and left them to dry on the heater. I went down
to the FREE continental breakfast with FREE rolls, FREE donuts, and FREE
coffee. I sipped down six cups of FREE coffee and ate four FREE sweet
rolls. I need strength for the 638 miles I'd be riding today. I
returned to the room to put on my damp but clean underthings and my other
riding gear. I put on my lycra bicycle shorts, my Pricey Brand Deluxe
Exclusive model electric vest, pants, gloves, truss, and socks, my silver and
blue BMW one-piece riding/pressure suit with special modification to attach my
colostomy bag, my insulated neck brace, my goretex SensiBoots with the lift in
the left heel, my cataract protectors, and my welder's gloves. I gathered
up the rest of my provisions and prescriptions and headed out the door.
"Apollo 11," my K1100LT, shined majestically in the morning sun, but
I noticed the pavement had all but dried everywhere except underneath of
him. Just as I was about to put on my BMW System III helmet with intercom
and oxygen, I saw the hole about the size of a funny, flattened teardrop-shaped
screwdriver in the side of the gas tank.
I called Penny's BMW (Hi, Penny and Stewart!) and they came over in their van
to pick me up. Luckily, they had a red tank for "Apollo 11"
back at the shop and only charged me $1100 plus my damaged one for it! I
got them for 5 cups of FREE coffee while I was waiting for them to install it
for FREE.
I still had about 635 miles to go and there wasn't much daylight left. I
thought I'd be best off getting some gasoline, so I pulled into BP (Hi, other
guy who wouldn't talk to me!). I had three cups of coffee (Paid for the
first one, the other two were FREE). I filled my new tank for the
first time. Dang! I never knew BMW tanks held so much! I put
pretty near $11 in it!
It was close to supper time so I went into the Burger King next to the
gas station (Hi, Rachelle, Scotty, Bruce, and Wendy!). After gumming and
swallowing my BK Broiler, I decided it would be best if I stopped here for the
night. Since they were open 24 hours, I locked myself in the handicapped
stall in the restroom and put my colostomy tube directly in the toilet.
I closed my eyes and reflected and relived my three mile day.
K1100LT "Apollo 11"
My Trip to
GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally - Part 5
By Jerry Atrichs
Who says I'm not hip?
Day five started like day three. I felt water splashing my face and I
realized Scotty was hosing down the men's room. I was already quite wet,
but after sleeping on a public restroom floor, I found it refreshing. I
walked out and ordered a sausage biscuit and coffee.
After my second FREE refill, I realized I had left my colostomy bag in the
restroom and the hose had been leaking all over the floor (Sorry,
Scotty!). I shuffled back to the men's room and quickly found it in a
biohazard bag in the corner. I had just reconnected it when I slipped on
the wet floor!
My right goretex SensiBoot lost purchase, which surprised me. Usually
it's the left one with the lift in it. I bounced off the sink, ricocheted
off of the urinal, but still managed to shatter my brittle hip when I impacted
the floor. I landed on my bag and injected the residual waste and gas
back into my rectum. The doctor says it helped maintain the shape of my
pelvis and kept it from splintering like my hip. Thank you, Baxter
Medical Supply!
I was rushed to Mercy Hospital (Hi, Manuel, Jeff, Missy, Mrs. Edwards, Calvin,
June, CeCe, Fred, Jerry B, John, another Manuel, April, and Father Ciccone!) in
downtown Akron. Dr. Ortiz examined me and my insurance card, and
decided the hip would have to be replaced. They had three models to
choose from, so I picked the one with the softest ride, though handling would
be compromised. As the gas started to take effect, I reflected and
relived my 15-yard day. While they had me on the lift, I had them retuck
my colostomy manifold, make my outie an innie, and remove my prostate. He
said the lymph nodes in my right armpit wouldn't last much longer, so I had
them removed as well. I also got a FREE enema, a FREE paper dress, and a
FREE sample of steroid that gave me an erection that lasted a fortnight.
Sixteen days later, I was hobbling around like a 56-year-old! I called
Penny at Penny's BMW (Hi, Penny and Stewart!) and had them bring my bike to
me. They were kind enough to go pick it up at the police impound lot for
me. They said the 65-litre tail trunk was damaged so they replaced it
with an exact duplicate for only $900 plus my old trunk. I reimbursed
them for the $600 towing, storage and the fine, and was about to head
home. I didn't have a chance of beating Red and Sonny to the Geriatric
Internet BMW Riders With Orange Triangles On Their Backs Late Fall Rally in
Ishpeming, MI. After all, I still had 632 miles to ride and less than a
week to get there!
Jerry-A
K1100LT "Apollo 11"
My Trip to GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally -
Part 6
By Jerry Atrichs
The Race is On!
I called Dale and she said that Sonny had run into a little trouble outside of
Wheeling, WV. As he was descending from Dallas Pike into Elm Grove, his
legs fell asleep and he was unable to operate his foot brake or gearshift on
his Yamaha 1500 Gold-Wing-looking thing, "Enterprise". His
speed was approaching 70 miles-per-hour when he suffered a stroke. His
right side was completely paralyzed.
Since Sonny has had nine strokes, he kept a cool head and utilized the left
side of his body to operate the clutch and deliver himself safely to Ohio
Valley General (Hi, whoever!). However, his stroke was serious enough to
lay him up for 2 weeks of learning to walk for the eleventh time.
Red hadn't faired much better. It seems he was black flagged by the EPA
at a random checkpoint due to excessive radiation emissions. He was taken
to the Vandegraf generator at Ohio State University for decontamination.
The boredom of lying in the MRI day after day brought on an attack of his
Alzheimer's disease. When he was discharged form the lab, he couldn't
remember where he was going and sat in the parking lot for two days.
Fortunately, he had the foresight to leave himself a note on the dashboard of
his Suzuki 1500 Gold-Wing-looking-thing with a mural of John Wayne on the tank,
"The Duke", for just such an emergency. This put him some 13
days behind schedule as well. I may have a chance after all! We all had
left messages for each other on the GBMWMOA (WOTOTB) message board and decided
to press on despite our failing bodies. I put on my lycra bicycle shorts,
my Pricey Brand Deluxe Exclusive model electric vest, pants, gloves, truss, and
socks, my silver and blue BMW one-piece riding/pressure suit with special
modification to attach my colostomy bag, my insulated neck brace, my goretex
SensiBoots with the lift in the left heel, my cataract protectors, and my
welder's gloves. I gathered up the rest of my provisions and
prescriptions. I emptied my colostomy, changed oxygen cylinders, and
downed 3 cups of coffee from the hospital gift shop (I paid for the first one,
the other two were FREE!), checked my orange triangle, put on my BMW System III
helmet with intercom and oxygen, and mounted my K1100LT, "Apollo
11". After I found the entrance ramp to the Interstate, I twisted
the grip and began racking up the miles. It was hard to believe that in
the next 8 hours, I had traveled nearly 150 miles - more than twice what I had
ridden the preceding 21 days. I pulled over to record it in my journal,
but I was unsuccessful at flagging down a passing motorist to take my
picture. Ishpeming loomed 480 miles ahead.
My Trip to GIBMWRWOTOTB's Late Fall Rally -
Part 7
By Jerry Atrichs
The Home Stretch.
As part of the postings Sonny, Red and I had left on the GBMWMOA (WOTOTB)
message board, we included our coordinates from our GPS's. When I plotted
the positions on the map I found us all to be at least 9000 miles from Ishpeming.
I then discovered I had reversed the latitude and longitude. We were all
closing in on the Upper Peninsula, with Red in the lead. He only had 400
miles to go. I had 445, and Sonny had 465. I would take more than 1100
cc's to get to the rally before Red. I would need luck.
Over the next four days, I and my two adversaries closed in on Ishpeming.
I was a 150 miles away when I noticed several headlights, driving lights, fog
lights, and marker lights in my rear-view mirror. It was Sonny! I
twisted the throttle, but Sonny had looked death in the face two weeks before
and passed me within an hour going at least 60. I tucked into the wake
behind Sonny's Yamaha 1500 Gold-Wing-looking-thing, "Enterprise,"
and, soon joined him at the mile-a-minute mark.
Less than 50 miles from the rally, we saw flashing red and blue lights
ahead. Sonny dropped out of warp and began cruising at a very safe and
legal 39 mph. As we passed all the emergency vehicles, I looked over and
saw a very wrinkled Suzuki 1500 Gold-Wing-looking-thing with a shiny-faced man
being pulled from beneath it. I immediately knew it was Red by the mural
of John Wayne on the gas tank. I tooted my horn, but Red didn't hear me
over the jaws-of-life. I later found out that he had pulled over to
record that he was going to win the race to Ishpeming in his journal, when his
kickstand dug into the ground causing "The Duke" to fall over on
him. It was just between Sonny and me, now.
Sonny down-shifted, but I got the holeshot. I pulled out in front and
within 15 miles I was again at the mile-a-minute mark, with Sonny on my
tail. Fly Apollo 11, fly! My gas gauge was below a half a tank, but
I couldn't afford to pit then. I was going to win! As the Ishpeming
city limits sign appeared, Sonny made his move. He had been drafting me
and at the last possible minute, twisted the grip and slingshot past me.
He must have been going at least 63! I tried to match his acceleration,
but I had no strength left in my forearm. Oh, the agony of defeat!
Sonny was less than 100 yards from the thrill of victory with me right behind
him. He must have been confused while attempting to check his blood
sugar. He accidentally hit the switch and turned on his electric
reverse! Sparks flew from the pinion as the motor tried its best to
reverse his 60-plus mile-an-hour advance. I shot past Sonny and his
Yamaha 1500 Gold-Wing-looking-thing, "Enterprise", and crossed into
Marquette County. Victory was mine! In the past 27 days I had traveled
more than 700 miles averaging over 25 miles a day! I was exhausted but
proud of this accomplishment.
Eventually, Sonny managed to turn off his reverse motor and pulled up behind
me. He gave me the thumbs-up. Sonny is a good sport, unlike Red who
bit my nose off when he bet me who'd get cancer first and lost. Sonny and
I pulled into the first diner we saw and enjoyed several cups of FREE coffee
after the purchase of the first two. The fire department dropped Red off
after he spotted "Apollo 11" and "Enterprise" out front.
The three of us shared our adventures. Red was such a bastard about
losing, I didn't want to let him ride pillion on my bike to the rally.
But, I did. What are friends for?
Prologue:
I called Dale to tell her the good news and found that she had starved to death
while I was gone. I had the kids put her in the freezer in the basement
until I could return to make the arrangements. After three days at the
dialysis clinic, I couldn't wait to get home. I was in such a hurry, I
decided to walk.
Jerry Atrichs
Ride slow. Ride long.
K1100LT "Apollo 11"
Note, I edited this for readability by enlarging the font and correcting a minor error two. It is basically unchanged. I have read it many times and still it brings tears to my eyes.
Naturally Beemers
The BMW M/C Club of Arkansas
BMWMOA
CLUB #181 Chartered 2/88
BMWRA
CLUB #74 Chartered 4/91
Steering Committee
Otto
Ising…..........................President
Barry Phillips…..............Vice
President
Elmer
Sveda…......................Activities
Jerry
Reynolds…...................Treasurer
Rod Kilduff…………………. .Secretary
Annual Membership Dues:
$10.00
for Solo
$15.00
for Family
Send correspondence to:
C.
Michael Wingfield
2402
S. Taylor
Little
Rock, AR 72204
cmwingfield@ualr.edu