Oh I'm Feeling Hot! Hot! Hot!

Apparently I didn't get enough of the heat during the trip to AC. Or at least that's the justification I'm using for why I decided to - less than a week later - take Lucille and head back north before hooking a right and heading for Ocean City.

Oh, and it was the OC Fastest Bartender Finals.

For those who don't know, I help out with the Fastest Bartender Contest which is held in multiple cities all up and down the east coast. This is one of the cooler charitable organizations I've had the priviledge of working with. And, as a bonus, they happen to be fairly fond of my photography skillz which means that I get to practice my paparazzi talents while folks raise money (gotta love combining two loves)!

(ok, enough plugging for one post)

Anywhosit - the finals are kind of a big deal so I make every effort to attend them, regardless of location. Besides, who is going to pass up a prime opportunity to chill at the beach?! So here I have the chance to combine beach, photography, raising money AND motorcycling.... um yeah, sign my ass up por favor.

Ride up was largely uneventful thankfully. It wasn't nearly as painfully hot as the trip to AC was and my riding mood was a little more pleasant. We were all goofing off and having a grand ol' time - I was taking lots of pictures, everyone was really getting into the contest which was awesome...

Unfortunately, I got a call that I'd expected but been dreading and honestly... had been avoiding even thinking about that day. Our beloved family dog, Jack, passed away late that night. He was an old, happy boy who was fortunate enough to not only be at home when he passed but also did not suffer. The poor guy's heart had just had enough that night after one last walk.

Jack: Thanksgiving 1997 - July 13, 2010

This dog was truly amazing. I know everyone says that about their dogs, but Jack was special. My aunt called him "one of my all-time favorite canines." He had boundless levels of love to hand out to anyone with a hand to pet him. He and my brother grew up together. I remember how he would play so much differently with my brother when he was little (my brother was about 4 when we got Jack) than he would play with my sister and I or my parents. I'd catch my sister talking to Jack constantly, which was reassuring to me because I felt like everyone - even a strong-willed girl like Moo - needed someone to just listen. My dad always tried to play the rough-and-tough man and at first acted like he was unphased by Jack. It was very obvious very quickly though that Dad would spoil this dog silly, and was often the one getting him all riled up to play at all hours of the night. And my mom... there is no doubt that Jack played a key role in my mom's quality of life and healing process while she was going through breast cancer treatments. Jack was every kind of dog he needed to be, and always had room in his heart to be just a little more.

The phone call from my mom tore me apart. I was sick with pain from losing such an amazing piece of my life and felt like I had a hole that was eating me from the inside out. I felt so guilty for not being there - for him and for my family. My heart was not ready to bear the load of death just a week after Mike's funeral. I was so far from home and my own dogs and just wanted to curl up and cry, which is exactly what happened on that Ocean City street corner. I was fortunate enough to be with good friends and even now I can't honestly explain the feeling of reassurance I had just from them being there. Thanks for the hugs, you know who you are~*

Needless to say the rest of the night was a bit of a blur. Though my coping mechanism may not have been the most ideal, I had cried all that my body was capable of crying in a week's time and I needed to have a good time. But hey - I had a drink renamed after me :D For the curious cats in the audience, a "Shoe Bomb" (dear FBI/ homeland security, I'm not a terrorist. Though this drink may cause night terrors) is a shot of Jameson bombed in a glass of Smirnoff Ice. I know I know, initial instinct is to recoil. However, trust me when I say it's delicious. Tastes like ginger ale. I do strongly suggest you stick with just one though...

Riding home the next day was therapeutic. Though my head appreciated the fresh air, my heart appreciated the solitude that riding a bike provides. It's just you and the road and the engine - you can reach out and feel the world flow through your fingertips like water in a forest stream. It's invigorating and difficult to describe. If you ride and you can't remember the last time you felt this way on your bike, I encourage you to find a road - any road will do - and just go and put your hands out and take a deep breath in as you eat up the pavement. 

The only way you can understand your destination is to appreciate the journey for all it's worth.

2 days.

Another 500 miles.

Another loss for the world, but another big gain for heaven.

Sleep tight puppers...

Dear Summer,

... we get it. You're hot. But was 105 degrees *really* necessary for the trip to AC?

A whopping three days after making Lucille mine, I hit the road with 3 amazing people.  All members of the route safety crews for various events including the breast cancer walks, we were headed to a small town just west of Atlantic City to celebrate the life of another crew mate, Michael "Tiny" Ray. To many he was Michael "Big Daddy" Ray, but to the 2008 Breast Cancer 3-Day crew, he'll always be Tiny.

Mike and his wife, Michelle, ventured down to DC to do what we all love to do - kick cancer in it's ass. They fit into our family like two crazy gloves and were stuck with us from that day forward. Holy cute couple batman is the best way I can describe them. So when we learned that Mike was involved in a fatal car accident on Tuesday, June 29, heartbroken is only the beginning of the emotions that I can adequately describe. I mean here was this young guy - he had turned 43 in March - who had so many amazing things falling into place in his life. He and Michelle were to celebrate their 3rd wedding anniversary just days after his death, not to mention the sheer joy they were sharing with the news of a baby Ray on the way. I remember them talking about wanting kids when they were in DC with us.

The first few days after I found out about his death, I was a mess. I bounced between aching sadness to confusion at the pain I felt over a man I really only knew for 4 days to anger towards myself for questioning my emotions to an overpowering feeling of "life is short so start living it." It's taken time for me to be able to come to terms with it all - the death of such an amazing guy who had so much happiness in his life, the impact he had on my life and the lives of my friends regardless of the physical time we spent with him and the knowledge that living for today didn't mean I could run off and camp out on the beach for the rest of my life.

What I love about the moto crew is that we are in so many ways a family. We have many differences, but fundamentally we're all wired the same way. Just as I was speaking to one friend about making plans to attend the funeral, another was sending an email to the group saying "kickstands up at 8." Things like that helped me come to terms with the feelings I was going through - "you're not alone" is a nice feeling sometimes.

By the time all plans were made, there were 4 of us physically headed north, with the hearts and minds of the rest of our crew strapped to our backseats.

Now, normally when you head north it gets cooler and when you head south it gets warmer. This is a basic principle we all know and understand. Well, all of us except mother nature. The temperature just kept climbing and climbing and climbing... and I can't say that the ridiculous amount of traffic we battled helped keep the asphalt cool. Many pit stops and enough sweat to water a farm in the desert later...

We decided to have dinner in AC. Though we were there for somber reasons, we felt the need to at least experience the city a tad (that and my friend Mark was craving soft serve ice cream... we had to get him soft serve ice cream). This is where we encountered the most. awesome. mullet. ever.

1. It's a mullet in AC
2. It's on a Russian gentleman.
3. He had semi-curly hair in the back
4. He had TINY little curly-cues up top...
5. ... which were pulled into - no joke - a faux hawk

I rest my case on le mullet.

In the morning we all polished ourselves up and rode over to the funeral home for the viewing. Upon arrival we learned that at the viewing the night before, there had been a line of people waiting to express their condolences for over 4 hours. This is a man who truly had an incredible impact on a ton of people from all walks of life. There were dozens of photos set up around the parlor of Mike - as he grew up, his siblings, his football days, his time as a DJ, photos from Mike and Michelle's wedding, and even several photos of the weekend they spent in DC with us for the walks. We were able to see sonograms of Baby Ray ("Peanut") and finally able to pay our respects to Michelle and their families. 

Once a moto - Always a moto.

As we headed out of the viewing room we spoke with a few people we met along the way and remarked at the number of cops. One woman we met was a close friend of the family and rode with Mike. After she found out we had riden in, she had a brief conversation with Michelle and we suddenly found ourselves escorting the processional through town to the church. Even now it brings tears to my eyes to remember the feeling of honor I know we all shared at that moment.

Now, as any woman rider knows, there are occasions that call for both a skirt/ dress and a motorcycle. Since you cannot control a motorcycle while side-saddle, it becomes a bit of a logistical problem - how do you ride your bike AND show up looking like a respectable member of female society? Though there are many ways to solve this dilemma, Alicia and I chose door #2 - hike your skirt up around your waist, put your jeans on under your skirt and throw your heels in a saddle bag. The major downside of this option is the "switcheroo" - aka making the change from rider to lady. You can either wander around looking for a bathroom/ private spot to change OR you can simply negotiate your skirt down to a respectable place while also convincing your jeans to come down as well. Warning: the latter may result in funny looks.

After the beautiful catholic ceremony, we said goodbye to Michelle and promised to visit. Though we wanted to stay, we knew that we had to hit the road or we'd never make it back. Sitting at a small diner table munching on lunch we all came up with a great way to stay in touch with Michelle and her baby - I won't share anymore so that I don't spoil the surprise :)

At this point we realized that mother nature hadn't quite had enough of the heat. In fact, she opened up her attic and found about another 5 degrees of the stuff and felt the need to share. We actually drove by a bank that couldn't register the temperature because it was higher than its gauge could measure! Turns out - it is in fact possible to sweat your ass literally off. I think I left mine in northern Maryland somewhere.

After a beer stop with other moto friends (we weren't ready to give up the feeling of camaraderie we'd been swelling with for the last couple of days) and a ri-donk-ulous amount of DC traffic at 9pm at night on the beltway, we finally made it home. 

Two days.

500 miles.

Buckets of sweat.

Truckloads of love and emotion.

All in all - I could not have imagined a better maiden voyage for Lucille.

::UPDATE:: Michelle is having a baby boy! Her little daddy, Rexford James Ray (Rex) is due at the end of this year!!

Two Weeks. 2500 Miles.

On Friday, July 9, Lucille came into my life. Boy was she a sight - big and blue, full of potential. She's a 2003 Harley Davidson Electra Glide Ultra Classic, Peace Officer Edition. Typically these models are only available to active and retired law enforcement and firefighting officials, and the gentleman that sold her to me was a retired cop of 30 years. As someone who has not served in such a capacity, it's an honor to ride this special edition bike, especially since I have many friends in the field.

Enough mushy-gushy :D

In the first 2 weeks of owning Lucille, I put her through serious runnings in the dead heat of summer. I've decided I need to have separate posts on each trip, but the general summation is:
- Atlantic City, NJ - 2 days, 500 miles round trip
- Ocean City, MD - 2 days, 500 miles round trip
- Augusta, GA - 4 days, 1500 miles round trip

Needless to say - two weeks on the bike is a long time, no matter how hardened of a rider you are. However, the sheer fact that I was able to walk after each trip (and after the final trip was over) was plenty to convince me that Lucille has been the best purchase in my life thus far.

I plan on taking Lucille all over the place and I want to share these adventures with you. I'm sure there will be a number of trials and tribulations along the way - everything from maintenance to jackass drivers to weather - but I'll do my best not to get my butt in too much trouble while on the road and share what is worth sharing. I'm largely a goob so I'm positive that most of my posts will be goob-ious, but I warn you that I have a habit of falling into the sentimental when it comes to the charity work that I do (especially on the bike).

Anywho - I hope you enjoy the adventures Lucille and I have.