I cannot adequately express how much I appreciate the common theme of the comments on my last post of concern for my well being. There comes that time as we age or suffer infirmities that compromises must be made.
We struggle with that inner conflict between maintaining whatever reputation we may have ( or would like to have ) and taking the path of wisdom based on our current circumstances.
That's part of what I tried to convey and share in that last post. It would seem that my writing made a connection with everyone. I tried to share honestly how I felt at the time and it seems that we all face the same struggles. I have an ego and will be the first to admit it. I cherish my reputation as a tough, hardcore, rider. Even Iron, however, is subject to wear and tear from the ravishes of time or other events.
So here's the deal. Carry this with you as you ride. Have fun. Ride with zest and enthusiasm. Charge about on your steel steed. Go conquer castles, dragons, and oblivious cagers. Live the Legend. Share you stories over the campfire. Enjoy.
When you wake up one morning and some parts of your body take longer to wake up than others, when sitting by the fire sounds much better than chasing dragons, go with the flow. Legends are the result of many days and deeds. A day here or there will not diminish the Legend. Legends are built upon years of battle. A Knight who choses to withdraw from daily battles will not be thought any less of a Knight. The Legend will not diminish.
In plain language, take account of the current circumstances and pursue the Path of Wisdom.
Which brings me to Mr. Riepe.
Jack heaped praise upon my last post. I am truly honored to be thus commended by a writer of his ability. Seriously. In his comment Jack wrote the following of himself:
I was in Tennessee last summer, and the pain in my knees was excruciating. A buddy of mine had driven to the BMW rally with his wife. He said to me, "You ride home with Dot in the car, and I'll follow on your bike." It was the ultimate temptation... And I passed the test. I rode my own bike. But I did so because I was afraid I wouldn't ride if every time my knees hurt... And they hurt all the time.
In this regard Jack represents us all. I respect Jack's decision to ride. I would still respect him if Jack had decided not to finish the ride. I believe I speak for all of us in the blogosphere when I state that the respect I have for everyone is based on the pursuit of a common interest and a shared humanity. On what we have learned about and shared with each other. Not on how tough a rider is. Sure, I enjoy the stories as much as anyone. But that is not what I base my assesment of a rider on.
So, I found this picture from a post I did years ago. It is not of my originality. I do not know where it came from. Somebody passed it on to me. That being said, here it is:
If this is Jack and Stiffie moved to Key West to eternally harrass Conchscooter, so be it. I, for one, will think no less of him.
The real secret of success is to know one's limits and to ride within them. These limits are different for different riders. Things I do might seem crazy to others. Yet, my limits are different, as well. What we do have in common is that limits are fluid. Day to day. Week to week. Year to year.
This is the Path of Wisdom. Ride within whatever those limits are at the time. Those who do so will always garner the deepest respect I can bestow. They will always be a True Knight to me!
Miles and smiles,
Dan
P.S. For Bobskoot: Tomorrow is Friday. Look for a post in the afternoon involving actual motorcycle riding and at least one photo of a bike!
5 comments:
Sounds like a real friggin' mutual admiration society going on here. Problem is, I agree with everything said by everybody even down to the harassment of the Conchscooter.
I respect and enjoy all the blogs I follow for various reasons.
Okay, back to work for me all you lovebirds.
Jimbo/cpa3485: via:Irondad:
It's like we are all friends sitting by the fireside and talking to each other, and poking jabs back and forth across the table, with Mr Conch on the next table because we won't let him sit at our table. All in fun of course.
Tomorrow's Friday, just sitting back and waiting for more baby pictures and another photo of a toy motorcycle.
bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin
Dan, I sometimes wonder if Jack makes so much fun of his riding "skills" and slow riding and painful aching joints just to "hustle us" as pool sharks hustle the "marks".
WE then show up for ride, really struggle to keep up with his now amazing riding "elan", wind up at what he calls a "nice rest point" and an hour later and he leaves us in the dust of some strip joint's parking lot after racking up the tab and leaving some pretty irate pole dancers who were promised "large tips" and left wanting....
OK, maybe not, but you gotta admit, it could happen.....so, how's the electric grip project coming along? I am proof positive that all you need besides your existing gear is heated grips and atv grip covers and you're good to 17 degrees....so long as its not humid of course. Oh wait, look where you live....never mind.
Charlie6: via:Irondad
I am not as fearless as yourself or Irondad and I have heated grips, handguards and a heated vest. I have not worn the vest for a couple of years and even then only a couple of times to make sure it worked. As for the heated grips, they work great when raining. The handguards keep most of the rain off the gloves, and the heat dries the rest. I also had heated grips on my prev SV650K4 and used them only once in a while. I think once Mr Irondad has them installed he will really like them
bob
bobskoot: wet coast scootin
Dear IronDad (Dan):
It was very kind of you to cite my response to your last blog, even though it was very much in keeping with all the others. In truth, I like to ride with the big kids but barely qualify. For the first two years of my trial membership, the Mac Pac described my riding technique as a sort of "leaning disability," in which the machine was never more than two or three degrees from vertical.
I do so like stories that accurately depic the things a rider feels. And your last blog was about the second most primal aspect of sensory riding. The gauge by which you should measure the impact of your that piece is the degree to which you made others feel the damp, cold fatigue of each mile. And how each of those elements became the anvil upon which a certain resolve was forged.
This was done well enough that you could easily be forgiven the blatant way you kissed your boss's ass throughout the story. (And we all do that when necessary. I put on chapstix with a paint roller whenever I go to Washington, D.C., so I can smack my lips with a sound heard anywhere on the Beltway. Think nothing of it.)
It is hard for a biker to know his or her limits. In my case, they would be determined by fear and pain. Since I can't really acknowledge either (without selling the K75), my limits tend to exceed what's good for me. In this regard only, I get to call myself a rider, like the rest of you.
Thank you again for the kind mention. I was delighted to have made the title. The words "honor" and "Riepe" so seldom appear in the same line referring to myself.
Sincerely,
Jack Riepe
Twisted Roads
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