Coop's Corner: August 2013

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Minnesota Moto Guzzi Rally 2013

It's been another perfect August weekend, a great weekend for a Minnesota meeting of Italian motorcycles. Dave and I met in St. Charles for breakfast on Friday, then managed to find some dusty gravel, the shortcut but not really, from there to the Money Creek Haven Campground.

Jack arrived not long after we did, here at the registration tent. No, it's not a Guzzi but if Guzzi made a 2-wheel drive rig, he'd probably have ridden that.

I've seen Jack and waved hello at previous rallies but this weekend finally was able to really meet him and discuss roads as well as common riding areas. He knows the area roads better than I do Hopefully we'll be able to follow through on a coffee ride or two.

Here's a Guzzi sidecar rig with accompanying camper trailer, a one wheel drive in this case and for most purposes, sufficient.

Louie showed up on one of his Victory's this time, though there's talk of something else in his future. The question is and will remain, will his machine count remain the same or go up one??

Since Dave and I live so close, our ride, even with a late breakfast, put us at the rally site before noon. There was a method to our early arrival madness.....some Friday afternoon gravel exploring.

We come upon "Road Closed" signs from time to time, not necessarily a barrier to our plans, though this weekend we were foiled more than once (and a couple of times that we should have been).

Here's a favorite "Minimum Maintenance" road that's been a favorite...we're both wondering if it will ever be again after this spring's various flooding.

No way were we getting through this one.....'course if it hadn't been for that big sidecar along, I'd have popped right through this minor obstruction. :)

This one didn't stop us....this time....but may next time.

Since it was coffee time, or even slightly past, we headed for the touristy Lanesboro. The Friday afternoon Tubers, Canoers and Bicyclists were showing up for a weekend of Root River Valley fun.

I thought this duded up, fender skirted pickup truck was pretty cool. I wanted to center the truck in the shot but one hand was holding some exTREMEly hot coffee from the Pedal Pushers diner.

It then was time to head back to the rally site since our pulled pork Friday dinner would soon be served. There were many new arrivals back at camp.

Mike showed up on his Moto Guzzi Norge, their Sport Touring model and he was a Mike I didn't know. As it turns out, I used to work across the isle from his wife at one company and he works next to a life long machinist friend at another medical company. Rides will soon be planned that will hopefully get the three of us together in one spot.

Saturday morning dawned cool, clear and foggy. I walked down to the naturally spring-fed pool to prove there was moisture in the air.

On our way to Hokah for breakfast, we discovered this huge road improving project. This one led us to a Minimum Maintenance road that wasn't, so we had to turn around and do this part twice.

Our Saturday morning breakfast spot in Hokah.

A potty stop and leg stretching spot.....for Justin naturally.....on a steep, almost-Iowa gravel road.

This frog simply can't possibly have a big croak, can it?? It was doing its best to hide on this milkweed leaf but I was too sharp to miss it.

The New Albin City Meat Market and Store....a necessary stop for my favorite smoked pork jerky. John, I brought some back to camp for you but you weren't there.....in time. Offered to a few other campers, they initially didn't care for any.....then..."well maybe I'll try some". Not long after, "hey, could I have another chunk?"

I bought a pound and brought a couple of ounces home.

After making Dave, really, really dustier, we were back at camp. He stopped at the car wash to make his bike black again; mine's still a dingy grey-brown.

This one was for sale, very reasonably priced but I tried not to spend any more time there than necessary or I'd have been tempted to......

Brad's eternally beautiful Triumph....Jack's GS isn't hard on the eyes either.

A Ural that had seen as much dust for the day as we had.

That Twin Headlight guy's KLR.........

Somehow I even got into this shot........almost too many cooks in this one.

Scott's "1000 hour" custom fairing, bags, snack box (on the tank), windshield, etc.

On the left, one of many rows of campers and full season trailers not connected with our group.

After our steak dinner, there was more discussion, more enjoyment of a perfect Saturday evening before bedtime.

Sunday morning again arrived clear, cool and foggy. Dave and I weren't in any hurry, leaving just before 9AM. Once again, many riders from further away were already long gone. Since this is the closest rally for both Dave and me, it's hard to be in too big of hurry to head for home.

Monday, August 12, 2013

Early Arrivals

Our monthly VJMC meeting

Sunday, August 11, 2013

"Where Have You Been....?"

That's what the ST2 wondered today.

She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as I rolled her out into the daylight. It's been parked in the darkest (deepest) corner of the garage and the bright afternoon sun was almost too much for her squinty eyes. With tomorrow's planned commute to work and attendance at our monthly Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Rally, I needed to know that the bike would make the 160 mile round trip, let alone run.

The bike needs a new rear tire and that's roughly $200 (even when I change it myself) that can buy a lot of smiley gas miles on the other machines. When it comes right down to it, there really aren't any other good reasons for the Duc to be parked so long....I guess I'm just having a barrel of fun on the other, smaller machines and this one simply doesn't get into the rotation very regularly, or at all.

I took the camera along but there was much complaining at the outset.....

"One camera stop and that's it....today we just go."

So go is what we did.

"You know that road, that one road you like so much, that one that used to be so much fun...can we go there??"

I reminded her that I like many roads.

"Yeah, but there's that one that you really like.....let's go do that one.....I'm really excited...."

More miles today than the bike has seen in '11 and '12 combined. It is still a delight to ride.

Friday, August 9, 2013

1913 Harley Davidson

I've not done this before and most likely won't again, but am so impressed by this little video that it seemed worthy of Posting for my riding friends. Buddy Ihor sent me this link (he shares some pretty cool stuff) and I thought the easiest and best way to get this out to those that might care would be from 'the Corner.

The almost 10 minute video highlights an original 1913 HD, with some interesting factory options. It was sold and continues to reside in Canada.

http://www.fark.com/cgi/vidplayer.pl?IDLink=5734912

Monday, August 5, 2013

Wisconsin Moto Guzzi Rally 2013

I was there. Taking Friday off, it was a relatively early start on a cool, lovely early August morning.

The ol' Ascot (TranZalp) with Lake Pepin, the wide spot in the Mississippi River.

I met Dave down in LaCrescent, MN and we stayed on the west side of the river, taking a break just north of Marquette, IA.

Pretty sure Louie is wondering why anyone in their right mind would ride that thing to a Moto Guzzi Rally.

Half of the attendees in this photo are from Nebraska, one real member of the Wisconsin MG club and one from MO?

John once again trailer-less.....

Thankfully, we're all quite neighborly.....

I got a short ride in Dave's CSM sidecar....

The private Lake Joy......

Registration for new arrivals....

A panorama view of the main 'upper area' grounds; the 24/7 beer trailer featured at the beginning.

We three rode up to Highland, WI for breakfast at Grandma's Kitchen. I'd have taken a photo but my lens wasn't wide enough to cover the plate.

Besides Dave's sidecar rig, Rick was there with his 750 Breva, an actual Guzzi at the rally.

Both on the way to and then again from breakfast, we found lots of up/down, narrow lefts and rights blacktop. Here we stopped at The Big M.

After lunch with some friends in Mineral Point, the 3 of us headed out for another loop, this time down to the river at Potosi Point, a man-made narrow peninsula stretching for what seems like half way across the wide river. Once used as a way to access deeper water for loading the area's mined lead into boats, now it serves as a convenient boat launch and fishing spot.

Some Guzzi's and an Italian infiltrator.

A new, modern Adventure bike (non-Guzzi) in the background with a machine (Guzzi) that normally would have seen more than its share of Adventure in its day.

The Traditional decorated and well-lit Golf Cart Parade on Saturday night, put on by the campground's seasonal campers. I heard someone counting but lost track, though I believe there were 20 or so carts.

The parade was led by this Lead Dog cart, complete with air horn (loud) and flames shooting out the two exhaust stacks (bright).

A really fun rally, 624 miles on the Honda, fine rides down and home again. Though friend Gene didn't attend the entire rally, he stopped by on Saturday afternoon to share lunch with us and it was very much appreciated. This Madison group of Guzzi Rider's work tirelessly to make sure that we attendees never get hungry or dry during our stay; they truly put on an incredible gathering for just over 200 people.

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)