A Rare Motorcycle Ride

I had the rare opportunity to go on a three-day motorcycle ride with about 20 other bikers. What was rare about it was that most of them were Harley-Davidson riders. Now, if you know anything about the biker culture, we (sport bikes who want to ride) and them, have a friendly feud.

This group was from the church I attend with the pastor riding one of the biggest, baddest, and loudest Harleys. I have no problem with loud as long as I’m in front and don’t have to listen to them.

We started from Salem, Oregon, in one long line and rode together out toward the coast until I and my group of sport bikes riders couldn’t take it any longer and pulled away. We met in Pacific City for lunch. My group had time to get a cup of coffee at the corner café and rested awhile before the group rumbled into town.

Now, you’d think when it’s lunch time, well, that it’s time to eat. But not Harley guys. No. They all pulled out a rag and their cleaning chemicals and went to work on their bikes. Chrome, it gets dirty. A couple of guys had to get out their tools and make some “minor adjustments”. Oh brother.

So off we went, ahead of them to Tillamook. Tillamook Creamery is one big tourist site. Many other bikers were there on their own trips and we all looked at each other’s bikes pretending to be interested in them while we had the famous Tillamook ice cream. You can get the ice cream in the store for a fraction of the price but there’s something about someone scooping it out for you, especially while you’re on a bike.

We left Tillamook after an hour break and since we were going to Seaside the Harley guys thought we’d ride as one big group again. Slow going because they’re Harley guys but also we were trying to stay together.

Some of us managed to break free which wasn’t a great idea because none of us knew where we were going.

Again bikers parking illegally

A small group of us are parked here in Seaside because we are lost. Notice the “No Parking” sign. Bikers think they can park anywhere. My bike is the second one in. The first guy you see in the photo is the sheriff.

Now the sheriff was an interesting guy. He rode with us in the fast bike group and I carefully studied some of his riding tactics. See, once you’re on a bike it doesn’t matter if you are a servant of the law, like him, or a chiropractor, like me. Speed limits are only suggestions. One time him and I took off quite fast and his bike is light and his front wheel kept coming up. That’s too fast. Mine didn’t so I’m thinking I had more control — two wheels safely on the ground. Also, on this particular run, I missed a gear going into 6th (still ahead of him) just as I noticed a friendly policeman coming at us. No worries, we hadn’t gotten into speeds high enough to register on radar. (I think that’s what the sheriff told me).

Harley guys like to ride around most towns very slowly and rev their engines. This makes quite a scene for pedestrians. I’m not much for it because for one, my Triumph Sprint overheats when I’m going too slow. For another, there’s no sense to it. The other thing is — get this — their bikes vibrate like nothing I’ve ever seen. The entire thing shakes violently. I wonder how many teeth are chipped by a Harley vibrating at a stop.

Harley guys wear these caps on their heads. They call them helmets but I wear a helmet, not a cap. They say the need to feel the wind in their face…whatever, ride your bike a little faster and get out of the fast lane, you’re holding up traffic. I might wear one of their caps some day, maybe after I go down so I can feel my ear peel away from the pavement.

Harley guys will form discussion groups around one bike and they’ll point and touch and make profound comments about a new chrome part the owner had just put on — maybe a cover to a spare part. It’s cost is always between $300-$400. They’ll all nod their heads and agree that that particular chrome bolt was worth it.

Harley guys always have rags in their bags. In fact, I believe they have one bag devoted to rags. With this they will stop every moment and polish something that just got dirty or that they missed the last time they stopped. Which leads me to the most troubling notion about Harley riders…

Harley riders don’t like to ride. It’s the honest truth. They like to sit in easy chairs a short distance of their bike and just look at it — staring. They don’t really want to ride it. They want to stop every 15 minutes for some kind of excuse: water, restroom, food, or whatever just so they don’t have to ride. I can’t stand it: “hey you’re supposed to ride the dang bike.”

On the way home my group of six lead the way. Now traffic on the highway from the coast was very busy when we came back. Makes for an exciting ride. I did have a close call as I passed between two cars that the sheriff told me later it reminded him when Indiana Jones just barely pulled himself from a room just as the door about closes on his leg. I didn’t think it was that close. It was rather exciting.

In all, it was a pretty good trip. I learned how to stop more often, look at my bike and talk about parts, and rag the thing down. I guess that’s all helpful sometimes. It’s always good to get away from your normal surroundings and around people that have a different take on life. That’s good.

I usually take a sport cycle ride over Labor Day weekend and cook for the guys on my birthday, but didn’t go this year. There will be other times and more rides.

Is there a point to this motorcycle madness? Yes, if you look for it and it is to say this: it’s important to take a new and different view from normal patterns in life. Every new experience adds to your versatility in life and increases your experiences. But you don’t have to get behind a Harley.

Dr Peter Lind
Lind Wellness

Cemetery Lane

 

 

Isn’t this the most accurate sign you ever saw? I took this on my motorcycle trip when I was in Tye Valley, Oregon in Wasco County. I mean, once you get on Cemetery Lane you are at a Dead End on this earth.

In my living room a large clock hangs on the wall above the fireplace. I think about it: why would I have a clock there? There should be a beautiful piece of art or an ornate mirror or something very precious. But a clock? My daughter gave it to us so that’s one reason it’s there but when you think about it time is all we have. Money comes and goes. Friends come and go. Even family comes and goes. But time. Time is all you have.

Back to Cemetery Lane—Dead End. That’s your final road trip. We are all on that journey if you think about it. And all you have is the rest of the road. We’re all going down Cemetery Lane. How are you marking your time? How is your journey?

Motorcycle Trip By Mount Hood

This is a great shot of Mt Hood and this is in July. Still snow on it. It will mostly melt and the hikers will still hike. The air temp is cool so a great place to get outta the heat. You all from the east and south don’t understand the getting outta the heat.

Two Songs You Shouldn’t Listen To While Riding Motorcycle

Tell me if it’s appropriate to listen to an ipod while riding motorcycle. One friendly cop in  Washington who stopped me and suggested a more appropriate speed to travel did not say anything when I took off my helmet and my earphones that was connected to my ipod. He would have told me if it was not appropriate.

I like to use the word appropriate.

Okay, what two songs should you not listen to while riding a motorcycle? These two came up and I told myself I shouldn’t listen to them.

The first song: Eagles–Life in the Fast Lane.

Second song: Elton John–Funeral For a Friend.

I think everything else is appropriate. Help me out with this…what about ipod and riding? You can wear earplugs…

Spiritual Insights From A Motorcycle Ride

Me on a corner in Washington

This year’s group was made up of four chiropractors and a geologist and we couldn’t come up with the punch line for a joke we were trying to make: Four chiropractors and a geologist walked into…

We rode up through Washington and into Idaho and the last day began from Joseph and rode down through small towns like Long Creek, Mitchell, and Prineville. The last day we rode 450 miles — 12 hours on the road, which is 9 longer than, I prefer. But I had three insights that I pondered on this 1,200 mile ride.

Riding a ridge on the way to Walla Walla, Washington. This was one of the rare times I’m not looking at the scenery. It was a few miles down this very road that I had a nice, friendly conversation with a state trooper, who wanted to talk to me. He gave me some good, helpful advice while riding in Washington. In the Eastern part of the state where we were heading he said the Meth problem is out of control. College kids go to campgrounds and have parties and it wasn’t unusual to bust almost any group they came across.

The first lesson was about food. When you are on the road you often do not have choices you usually have so for the first time in about three years I had a cheeseburger and fries — for breakfast! I know. It was in Spray and burgers were the only food on their menu. Many people have these things every week, so what’s one every three years? I assumed that the beef was local because there were many ranches in the area. The hamburger that you get in fast food places is usually from South America and is mixed from several different farms. So my first lesson was; sometimes you just have to eat what’s on the menu. If you eat well most the time then the times when you have no choice will be okay. You’ll get by.

The second was also a food lesson — no a confession. I didn’t take my nutritional supplements on the last day. I know, I know. But here’s the thing: I woke up at 5 am and couldn’t sleep. I had this idea. So I had to wake everyone else up with this great idea to ride all day through the small towns and get back before all the other Memorial Day travelers. Do you feel as bad, like you’re missing a piece of clothing when you don’t take yours? So I didn’t take my supplements. It will be okay. When you take yours most of the time you will have built up reserves that you can tap into when you need to. If you never take nutritional supplements to vitalistically support your organs and body processes you don’t have the reserves. This is a strong reason why people get ill—they run out of reserves. Disease can now get a foothold. With sickness and disease all you have to do is look back over time to see what went wrong. One more thing about nutrition…please reduce and then stop your soda intake! Sodas are killers! Also, avoid ANY AND ALL fructose and corn sweeteners.

I spotted a house by a river. Did you read THE SHACK?

The next lesson was a reverence that came over me as we rode into Eastern Oregon on highway 3. We were riding the Nez Perce Trail. The road snaked along high ridges that overlooked the vast country. As I was taking some corners I was thinking about what happened on this very road. Mistakenly, I thought it was the Trail of Tears but I was not far off. Here’s the history:

The 1877 flight of the Nez Perce from their homelands while pursued by U.S. Army Generals Howard, Sturgis, and Miles, is one of the most fascinating and sorrowful events in Western U.S. history. Chief Joseph, Chief Looking Glass, Chief White Bird, Chief Ollokot, Chief Lean Elk, and others led nearly 750 Nez Perce men, women, and children and twice that many horses over 1,170 miles through the mountains, on a trip that lasted from June to October of 1877.

Forced to abandon hopes for a peaceful move to the Lapwai reservation, the Nez Perce chiefs saw flight to Canada as their last promise for peace. The flight of the Nez Perce began on June 15, 1877. Pursued by the Army, they intended initially to seek safety with their Crow allies on the plains to the east. Their desperate and circuitous route as they tried to escape the pursuing white forces is what we now call the Nez Perce National Historic Trail.

This route was used in its entirety only once; however, component trails and roads that made up the route bore generations of use prior to and after the 1877 flight of the nontreaty Nez Perce.

The walk out of the mountains the Nez Perce took was difficult physically. It was high and narrow and I can’t imagine packing your entire belongings and children and making this journey on foot, knowing you weren’t coming back home.

This was an emotional and even I think, spiritual journey. You can draw your own conclusions.

The town of Joseph was awe-inspiring. And of course, there were no hotel rooms available…it was a holiday weekend and we didn’t have reservations. But a few calls later and we ended up at the Wallawa Lake Lodge. After a dinner of salmon (from the river?), we found a campfire and brought it to life and had one of those “spiritual” conversations. You know the kind: God, religion, space-time, quantum physics, the universe… until the fire went out and we couldn’t see and had to stumble back to the lodge.

The book, THE SHACK, took place here. The lodge, campground, and up the mountain was the trail that lead to the shack. I had read the book several months ago and the images became vivid and the signs of life and spirit were everywhere.

You can’t see spirit but most people are aware of the presence of spirit. You can “feel” the spirit of someone or you can feel it of yourself if you tune into it. Many times we don’t talk about spirit but I think we all know its there. What do we do to nourish our spirit? What do we do to degrade our spirit? Does what we think, eat, or move help or hinder the spirit? Does it matter?

I’ve heard it said that we are spiritual beings walking around in physical bodies. But most of the time our minds are on the physical plane and rarely grasps things on the spiritual.

The third lesson from the ride was physical. It was during the end of the last day. After a few hundred miles of being hunched forward my elbows and wrists began to ache. A stop for rest became routine every 45 minutes but you can’t go far if you stop all the time. What to do…

Before we began the trip I threw some duct tape in my bag for that “just in case” event. I began thinking about it and on a stop in Sisters I taped a band right below both elbows. The band of tape took all the stress off my joints and I could ride longer, and at least get home.

The lesson: what do we do to take the stress off ourselves? The duct tape is like the things we can do in life to divert the stress. We all have it — the stress. What can we do to minimize the effects of it? Or actually this is just another use for Duct Tape.

Here’s a summary of the ride and really a new thought that might not summarize anything in this story.

You’ve heard “survival of the fittest”. But be warned: Charles Darwin and the proponents of population control use this idea to control nature and people. The chemical / genetic / pharmaceutical companies have written their own notion based on this faulty philosophy: “better living through chemistry.” These are reductionistic people and they want to break things down into parts to control the whole. This is without regard to the interconnections of the whole —|they miss the big picture.

Hitler studied Darwin and applied the idea of survival of the fittest with genocide. It won’t be the last time this happens. But in the world it is “those who adapt are those who survive.” It’s all about adaptability. You are where you are because of your ability to adapt. The measure of your life is your ability to adapt to the three major stressors that we all have to deal with: physical, chemical, and emotional. Dealing with these stresses is the solution to overcoming most health problems. You can’t exercise all week and slug down sodas and hamburgers, just as you can’t take nutritional supplements and be angry every day. You have to support all three of your body networks.

When you get this all figured out go out and take a motorcycle ride.

After riding 450 miles that final day home never felt so good. This was motorcycling at its finest.