Helm is swinging to and fro
Oh, where is the dog star
Oh, where’s the moon
You’ve been too long at sea
Indeed this is how I felt upon returning home. I wasn’t so unhappy about not finishing the rally as much as I was over making a mistake with my entire summer. I was home almost 12 days early from what was supposed to be a big ride with pretty much nothing to show for it other than clarity about what my life priorities are. More effective than therapy but my itch for a big ride was yet to be scratched.
I found myself in a bit of a vice. On paper it was possible for me to to a quick turnaround, hop on the GS and make it to the MOA Rally in Salt Lake City. Sounds great but the rally was at a fairgound downtown and would not satisfy my need to get out and about. There were some local events to consider but I knew that I needed something more.
I reached out to my friend Tom Asher who suggested I might be a good fit for a ride in Colorado after the National Rally. The ride was to commemorate a friend who had passed away last year and while Tom was not participating he offered to put in a good word with the organizer. I felt this had potential but I was a bit concerned; Tom and his type are the best big bike hard riders I know and I am not. Last thing I wanted to do was get in over my head in the Rockies but just a little more “last” than this was sitting on the porch. I decided to see if I could play Klingon and attach myself to this group. I decided to make sure that if I went I’d be ready.
At the same time another NOF (new old friend), Chad Warner was wandering around New England on his GS and accepted an invitation to stop by for a cold beverage. Chad is a former Recon Marine who did a bunch of those high altitude low oxygen jumps out of planes. Remember this when I suggest he’s a bit on the crazy side on two wheels. Chad discovered the GS about four years ago after decades riding America’s Biggest Iron all over the place. The BMW Motorcycle Owners of America discovered Chad and managed to rope him into filling a vacancy on the Board of Directors. This generates a special kind of chuckle as the same thing happened to me about 14 or so years ago; now I get to watch Chad make the sausage without getting caught in the grinder. Chad also leads a bit of a charmed life when it comes to his bike. It’s a high mileage unit that’s been on plenty of moto versions of HALO jumps and as such it’s prone to the occasional roadside protest but so far not out on the trail. He also rides the wheels off it which is great fun to watch.
Mr. Warner gets the full welcome.
This photo was taken July 5 as Chad heads west to the MOA National Rally which is just about 2,200 miles away. Chad covers ground efficiently. I like that.
As we sat on the porch I asked Chad what he was doing after the rally and if he was going on this tour I had heard about. He said he was and he was appropriately vague yet encouraging with the details, only telling me to “contact Jim.” I loved it.
The first group I toured with was known as the Sled Dogs. These were former enduro champions, road racers, restorers and such. They rode fast and hard and partied that way too. It was wicked fun to tour with them but time, age and new issues with past injuries have sidelined the group. My first tour with them started in a similar fashion; my last resulted in my meeting my wife. They’re not out looking for riders, they know what they’re doing and to be allowed to participate is an opportunity not to be squandered. The actual invite can be as simple as “we’re meeting here on this date and time.” If you arrive with all your proverbial shit in one sock and aren’t a dope you might just find out where everyone is staying the next night and make friends for life.
With this in mind I reached out to the organizer of the ride and was able to grab the last spot in a full ride as someone had to scratch that day. I felt very lucky.
NEXT: Ready, Set GO!