Coop's Corner: January 2012

Monday, January 30, 2012

Slimey Crud May 2011

The Slimey Crud Run motorcycle event happens each year on the first Sunday of both May and October as it has since the early '70's. The first weekend of May, 2011 I changed things up a bit and instead of riding the ~450 miles round trip to the event on Sunday, I trailered my Honda Ascot (Tran Zalp) over to Reedsburg very early on Saturday so that I could do some early season riding in beautiful Sauk County.

It was a very cool (cold) weekend, there was frost every morning so I wasn't starting my riding quite as early as I'd have liked. Late Saturday morning at the Reedsburg motel......

Camp Hill Road.....

The switchbacks on Camp Hill Road, steeper than they look......

Sunday morning, very crisp and cool, on my way to Pine Bluff.....

Brotherhood Lane, almost to Pine Bluff.....

Made it....

On to Leland, nice to see that the pond is back. Some of the first arrivals.......

About as crowded as it got.....

I left Leland and found some great roads on the way back to Reedsburg. I put the bike back on the trailer and headed towards home.......

Saturday, January 28, 2012

Highest Point in Iowa

It's most definitely true......Iowa does indeed have a 'Highest Point' and we've been there. Last June, daughter Hanna and I were on our way home from Lincoln, NE with some extra time on our hands and since extra time is in fact what it would require to stop at Iowa's greatest gap from sea level, we made use of it......extra time. Hawkeye Point in the northwestern corner of the state.

The wind she was a'blowin'...... These signs mark both the distances and names of the highest points in each of the other states.

The actual Spot......

....and finally, half of the famous couple......

Sunday, January 22, 2012

35 years of RFD in Wisc.

With all of the traveling for work and wandering for adventure that my grandfather accomplished in his early years, after his trip to Montana on his HD sidecar rig, he married and settled down in St. Paul, MN. He worked at the (now closed) Ford Plant building Model T's, then and just about his favorite job ever, at the Twin City Rapid Transit Company. His job was Motorman, the driver and he piloted the Streetcars in the city, but his normal route was the Interurban Route between St. Paul and Stillwater. Best of all was the weekend duty hauling young couples and families to the Wildwood Amusement Park in Mahtomedi, on the shores of White Bear Lake, where the Company had their own amusement park.

Before long, Gramp and Gram moved back to his homeland in Barron County, WI where Gramp carried mail for the USPS until his retirement in the early 60's. Getting the mail delivered no matter the conditions, on those roads, in those years, proved to often be a challenge, one easily forgotten today now that we've got paved roads and better, more suited vehicles. Even modern day gravel is a huge improvement on the road surfaces that carriers faced in the 40's and 50's.

After trying various Model A based snowmobile modded machines and achieving less than perfect results, he and a machine shop friend built their own rough road machine. Based on a '32 Model A, the front axle was turned upside down, a truck transmission and rearend were installed, held high with tractor wheels and chevron treaded tires. The cab compartment was boxed in to provide shelter and protection for the mail sacks. It was the first machine larger than a riding lawnmower that I ever drove requiring a clutch (and it pushed really hard at 12 years old).

Gramp stopped to help the Milk Truck......

Not a problem, you just drive through......

Easy from here........

I smile when I see this photo; the road now paved, tourists from the Twin Cities use it to enjoy a B&B. I'd have turned around and gone back home.....

I'm going to assume that he crested the hill and made the next box.....

One of his "seemed like a good idea at the time" attempts with the Snowmobiles that didn't work as hoped....

As I remember him telling it, soft snow and steering were major issues......

With chains, differential dragging.......

Plowing.....

Friday, January 20, 2012

1980 Honda CB750F and a few more

Home from the East Coast and working again after my summer-long Maritime trip, I found a used 750F Honda, the bike's styling a strong favorite of mine. That was December of 1979 and this was one of our milder winters.

The first and last time I ran modified exhaust......

In March I flew down for Bike Week in Daytona. In June, I traded the GS850 Suzuki for a 1980 Moto Guzzi SP1000.

In 1982, I bought this 1975 CB400F from friend Ken; he'd used it to commute to/from school, racing it on weekends at B.I.R. This was what it look like as it ran around the track........

Then Dan recovered the seat and Ernie repainted......

Somewhere in time frame, I found (and brought home) some '64-'66 Puch 250's, an entire brood......

In 1983, Gramp, still riding, decided to upgrade from his '78 Yamaha 100 Enduro to an '83 Yamaha 250 Exciter. Thinking his 100 Enduro would be a fun thing to commute on, I bought it and did just that; using it to go back and forth to work every day.

And the 100 Enduro that he sold to me.....

A number of bikes had been sold at this point; the Ducati, the Yamaha 125 Enduro, the 750F, etc. Here's what the collection looked like in '83........

Girlfriend Peg always liked it best when I'd ride over on the red Yamaha since it was so "cute" (which meant I was way too big for it). She was a very experienced 5 speed Toyota driver at the time and more than once took the Yamaha around her quiet suburban block. Before long, the Honda 400F became hers, the MSF course was taken and passed.

Mom, dad and Peg on a 'family' ride to the Eau Galle Reservoir in Spring Valley, WI.........

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Coffee....Washington Island May, 2010

Almost exactly two years ago, Prubert (from Sport-Touring.Net) called a 'Coffee' on Washington Island, May 16 2010. The Milwaukee/Chicago area guys call 'Coffee's' often but I seldom get to go because I'm normally too far away. I did make a Sunday morning coffee gathering in Dubuque that summer before but the group usually makes them without me and they make them often. Since I've been to Door County, WI numerous times and never made the ferry ride up to the island off the most northern tip, Prubert's call was the perfect excuse to make a weekend of it.

Deciding to ignore the fastest and most direct route, I chose to make the ride over a ride based on a theme, namely taking WI #54 the entire width of the state. I left bright and early on a Friday morning, a nicer morning than many mid-May mornings might be. This was the west end at the Mississippi River.....

Here I am in Algoma, Lake Michigan in the distance.....

Taking #42 north along the shore of the big lake, Potawatomi State Park, site #10 was my destination. I set up camp, then went back into Sturgeon Bay to do some sight seeing. When I got back to the campsite, friends from the Eau Claire area had arrived and set up in the adjacent campsite.

Saturday morning I got up early and headed out for some riding around the State Park's Loop Road. One of the stops was the Lookout Tower.

View from the tower.....

Sugar Creek County Park, on the Green Bay side of the peninsula. This was a lovely spot I'll definitely visit again.

Bob's approval.....

Cave Point Park, Lake Michigan side....

Young Seth, Chris and Seth's dad, Mike at the lighthouse.....

Chris and I.....

Back to Sturgeon Bay from there, a bit of grocery shopping, then back to the campground for dinner around the campfire. Scott and Steve had arrived from the Milwaukee area, spending the day doing some mountain bike riding on the way up, so our group was complete. It was cool that night, so the fire, fine company and discussion topics all made up the perfect end of the day.

Sunday morning, early (as is my custom....ask anyone). Scott's Wee and mountain bike racked up ......

Steve brought his on this very cool trailer.....

Breakfast time.....

The Bicycling Brothers left for home, Mike, Seth and Chris decided they'd not head over to the island and spend more time on the mainland exploring instead. I left and headed north up through the rest of Door County, trying to budget the right amount of time to get on the ferry in time for late morning coffee on Washington Island.

Just happened to be on the same ferry with IL friends Dean and Alisha......

My intent was to arrive early enough to do some exploring on the island before the rest of the group gathered at the coffee house. This is the ferry departure point for Rock Island State Park, the island even further out into Lake Michigan.

Schoolhouse Beach......

And finally it's Coffee Time, 13 bikes in all. It was early enough in the season that The Red Cup was officially closing about the time we arrived. Seeing our large group, they were kind enough to stay open and serve us.

All of us ready to board the 1PM ferry....

Ed shooting me shooting him.....

Lake Pepin and almost home. 7 hours ago we were boarding the ferry for the trip off from the island and back to Gills Rock......A fantastic weekend!

Others say....

"it was auspicious to approach any situation from a deferential, inquisitive place. Conceding that there is much to learn is the best blueprint for discovering something new." ----B. Fuller

The Man straightened stiffly above the block of salt fixed to the stake and looked at the young cattle ringed about him. The pasture was holding out well and the stock was looking good. This bunch would be ready to sell in another month, maybe sooner if the market was right.

A stir among the cattle down near the river brought him round to face the swinging bridge he'd built years before. Someone was coming toward him from the bridge. Someone in breeches, but it didn't look like a man, somehow. What was a woman doing in his pasture this time of night?

He bent over the salt again; maybe if he paid her no heed she'd go on past and let him mind his own business. He heard her footsteps come nearer and stop. "Good evening," she said.

Her voice was smooth with book learning but friendlier than most, and somehow almost shy. When he made no answer she went on, "I've been sitting on your swinging bridge....I thought I'd like to say thank-you...." Her voice stumbled a little, then she tried once more.

"You are Mr. ____". His name sounded strange in her voice, but she went on to tell her own.

"That's what they've called me the last sixty-eight years," he said, looking past her face to the hills fast darkening under a single star. "I reckon the woods are free for those that like to walk there."

The unfamiliar voice laughed a little. "That's what Emerson said: the grove belongs to the man who walks in it with an open heart....On that basis I guess I've owned part of your woods for a good many years.....". She made a final effort. "I've always wanted to thank you....."

Something deeply hidden stirred in him. "There's a stump up there, in the notch of the woods", he said slowly, "that before the timber grew so tall you could stand on it and see all over this country."

He kept still a minute, remembering, then, "I used to stand up there an' look at things, an' wonder how they come to be like they was, an' how the hills was created, an' all the things in Nature.... I told my wife I guessed all the religion I ever had I got standin' on that old stump, a-wonderin'..." He turned his face away from her.

She helped him out. "I know about that, a little. This afternoon I saw......." Her account of a thing she had really taken time to look at eased him, and he answered with telling of the badger den at the foot of the swinging bridge.

When she had gone, he turned to watch her. After a moment she stood clear and unmoving against the sky. You could hear the sounds of the river where she stood. She was one that could stand still long enough, he thought, really to hear what a body was saying, or a river.

Then she walked down the farther side of the slope and was gone. ------Margaret Snyder from A Chosen Valley

Fall was the end of harvest, end of the growing season, a burst of color and sun-warmth before killing frost turned the land gray and cold. Fall was a moody time, full of both life and death, a time when we were reminded of the power outside of us, reminded that the seasons happen to us. We do not invite the change to come.-------Ben Logan, from The Land Remembers

When you get those rare moments of clarity, those flashes when the universe makes sense, you try desperately to hold onto them. They are the lifeboats for the darker times, when the vastness of it all, the incomprehensible nature of life is completely elusive. So the question becomes or should have been all along, what would you do if you knew you only had one day, or one week, or one month to live. What lifeboat would you grab onto? What secret would you tell? What band would you see? What person would you declare your love to? What wish would you fulfill? What exotic locale would you fly to for coffee? What book would you write? ------- Ben Tyler

We were also cautioned about journeying far from home. As an example of the dangers, the town had a badly crippled lady named Lucy, who as a girl had traveled to New York City. As she traveled along a sidewalk, sightseeing, she was struck by the outstretched hand of a suicide who had leapt from high above. Her spine had been shattered and for the rest of her life, she was to walk bent forward at the waist, tapping the sidewalk with two black canes. Whenever the subject of travel to a big city was raised, someone would say, "Just remember what happened to Miss Tripp." ---- Ted Kooser, from Local Wonders

"Steamboats are like wedding cakes without the complications...." ----Mark Twain

"It's not about having lots of money, it's about having lots of options......." -----Chris Rock

As the very proud father of three former ponytail wearers, hopefully I can get away with this....."For the past few years it's been fashionable for young women to wear ball caps and to snap the strap on the back under their ponytails. I like the looks of that, their shiny ponytails jauntily swinging, but it's hard not to think of the rear ends of horses. There's a piece of harness called the crupper that goes just under a horse's tail to keep its nose down. If the horse lifts its head to look for a way out of whatever predicament it's in, the crupper tightens and hurts the horse. But it's foolish for parents to think that a ball cap might keep a young woman from running away. Anybody can see they're made for running." ------Ted Kooser, Local Wonders

"I tell the guy's girlfriend that the only difference between the book's main character Phaedrus and myself is that I am neither brilliant, tortured or insane, she looks at my bike and there is an uncomfortable silence." --------ahendepe (a.k.a. Vermin)