Coop's Corner: Royal Enfield Slide School - Viola WI

Sunday, June 6, 2021

Royal Enfield Slide School - Viola WI - 2021/06/05

My too-quick, too-brief email led many of you to believe that I was signed up, ready to whip that rear Himalayan wheel out on blue dirt. That was never my intention at all. An RE event close to home in an area close to home that I love riding in required very little contemplation. There were, we had many unanswered questions right up until the end. Where exactly, allowance for spectators, an entrance fee, swag, etc. etc.

Only at breakfast Saturday morning in Viroqua was I certain of the "where" component, the rest of it we, the three of us, Mike, Eric and I discovered upon turning off of Wisconsin Hwy 56 east of Viola.

From the RE website

Outside Viola, Wisconsin....

The action here...

Going to Viola to see what I could see was part of an early plan. Not long after early, I decided that an overnight made perfect sense and I knew exactly where I'd be staying. Eric saw value in the camping overnight part and then decided to join us for a session at the track; Mike decided to enjoy A/C in a motel but after joining us for breakfast, went out to the track with us.

The trip down to Esofea, a Vernon County Park.

We met Mike for dinner in Viroqua after taking the long way from the campground ....

After dinner we stopped for gas, Eric picked up a bundle of wood and we took the long long way back to camp. As I told Eric upon arriving back at the tents...the scenery, the temperature, the setting sun and shadows....it's what I imagine motorcycling to be while the January snow is blowing outside. It just don't get better.

My 1V tent...spent the night without the fly....been a long time since I slept without a cover.

Bathroom steps in the morning dew.

Early AM coffee before AM coffee at breakfast in Viroqua.

The Bad Axe River over there against the hill.

On the way home I stopped in Goodview....a variation on Coop's Theme.

Over the last week.....

One of our violinists discovering the magic of Zero Turn....

Once again, a variation...

Marks the end of the buried power that I had run out to the barn. Touch only with thick rubber boots and good quality gloves.

Apparently the secret to this success is neglect and inattention....we got this one right!!

Out of town for a few days, hopefully back next weekend with more excitement!

4 comments:

motormikeJune 6, 2021 at 3:27 PM
Was a bit disappointed with the " factory " event. Thought the " factory " would be on hand pressing the flesh and selling " swag ". But it was great to be out and about on my first " day " trip on the new Interceptor.. good time.. good company.
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redlegsridesJune 8, 2021 at 10:27 PM
And here I was thinking temperatures in the high 80s was hot!
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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)