Suretyagent

Thanks to all for another very enjoyable standing Wednesday night ride from Salem.

The Dirty (Half) Dozen, a jovial group of misanthropes the likes of which are so archetypal for any assembly of the Salem Hooligans, gathered leisurely within the 12th Street Circle K parking lot. This particular Biker Blitz left the drop zone later than the usual 6:30pm and proceeded South, South East at a controlled pace entering the rather un-Jeffersonian City of Jefferson without undue fanfare, reception or speeding tickets. Along that route the true beauty of rural Oregon was omnipresent in sight and smell, though one might suggest that over-rich V-Twin carburetor tuning put a uniquely Hooligan tinge to the senses.

The setting was vividly picturesque and lacked only bearded Amish Farmers aboard horse drawn buggies. Coming out of the undulating hills north of Jefferson the setting sun was to our right and veiled by bluffs but, once in the town itself and turning right, we soon headed into that angry, fiery blaze that lazily hovered above the horizon. Entering corners an apex would appear and then vanish in a flash of nuclear brilliance leaving rider to either gnash teeth, hope and lean or throttle back, slow and breath. Then another surging straight would open and the riders ahead would be seen to slant forward in formation, bobbing black dots of shadow disappearing in cloudy wisps of dust as field dirt was pounded from tarmac by spinning tires and momentum.

Awaiting us of the rear guard the fast guys would pause at major intersections, nodding heads and gesturing to each other like astronauts outside a space station. At one such stop Iron and I lingered and honked as a throng of toddlers ran from behind a rustic church, hypnotized by the thunderous sound and spectacle - a charging Calvary of furious machinery. Fifty years from now, at some unknown reunion, two grown men will recall that moment and reminisce.

Veering away from the Buena Vista Ferry we crossed a set of rail road tracks and stopped briefly to bid adieu to our most novice rider, a young man who had held his line true but was now headed home at his own pace as the remaining Hooligans continued north. With nary a pause and a nod, wrists uncoiled, engines abruptly shrieked and suspensions stirred under torque and centrifugal force. A micro-pause later I saw brake lights in the distance through my distorted face shield as greenery harrowingly blazed past and pavement narrowed with rising velocity - a distinguished and haunting caveat. Corners, straights, winding blacktop and blind switchbacks leading into darkened canopied hollows and ridges topped by blinding, ray filled shafts were met with momentum and courage. We raged away and I was momentarily alone, on the road and upon the earth, as those ahead were nowhere to be seen - ghosts who’d gone ahead, faster, braver or simply more wiling to risk than me.

On the edge of a farmer’s field, under the shade of a bridge with daylight fading into the world around us, we stopped, dismounted and laughed. Collectively shaking our fists at Death, the bastard – we had won again.

The melding of camaraderie, a shared brush with immortality and the hint of mortality - always looming - hung thickly between us. Never to be understood by the masses, a testament to its value.

Derek

GixxerPete

But what about the wheelies? You can't call yourself hooligans without making wheelies, so spill it!

Wilbur Kookmeyer

you writ perdy

midvalleysuperbiker

That pretty much summed it up,You do have a way with words.

It was fun, it's times like that I value as the season's end approaches.

All too soon it will be time to put the bikes on the stands change the oil, put stabil in the tanks, plug in the battery tenders, cover 'em up and put them to sleep for the winter.
Well, all but one, for those occasional nice days in the winter.

We NEED to do the Fossil ride!
SOON!!

Ironhead

Surety.........You are the master! A magician of the written word. I reminisce in my mind about last nights journey while I read your words....Only to wish that the music from "Chariots of Fire" be playing as I read. I am an emotional wreck now here at work. Tears of joy streaming down my cheeks. I must go and compose myself before my fellow co-workers see me in this state..........

Gixxer.......Isnt it Mandatory to have ones front tire "occassionally" leave the road surface?

CopperSV1

Just as some religions require bowing to their Gods, some require lifting the gauntlet in a toast and cheer!

Ok, I'm not Derek but I am allowed to be inspired by him!

Ejlofty

A verbose and literate wordsmith from the southland, who’s well turned phrases emote all manner of thoughts of the ride.
The fumes from the Tie Dye Factory do not seem to have affected your skills in the least.
Well written my good man.
Very well done.
Thank you

Whitesmokeyzf

Did fossil last weekend, the Chipnseal roads are killer on the tires. This Avon Storm came on the bike and has less 2100 mile on it. GREAT ROADS. Im in if my new Pilots get here in time.


Nice guy in Fossil opened the shop to fix my tire.