Alpha and Damn-near Omega

I'll admit it. I've been lacking motivation for a while now. None of it was blog-worthy and I'm sure not riding is of no interest to anyone. I don't want a pity-party starting either. Maybe it's the physiologic changes of working PM's, who knows? I do know where my head has been and it hasn't been "behind bars" on the road or trail.

Here's where my head has been...

On the way up to Rhinelander my mind wandered off the Interstate at Portage. Back in 1971 we lived there. Next to the telephone pole (below) there used to be a sand deposit where my brothers and I played. One day my dad removed the training wheels from my red Schwinn so I wedged the wheels in the sand and sat there pretending (now we say visualizing) to ride. I hadn't wedged the tires deep enough and I began to roll down the hill. At the end of the block below is Hwy 51. It felt great right up until I had to hit the coaster brake. I spent the rest of the day repeating the downhill runs until I mastered U-turning and riding back up the hill.




Many years go by and I find myself substituting sweat with octane. In the late '80s I had pined for a GSX-R 750 but "settled" for a VFR-700. In 2000 I happened upon an '86 GSX-R Limited Edition. It wasn't quite a basket case but it was missing bolts here and there. At 88 rear wheel horsepower it was healthy but 14 years of neglect showed. I modified and did motor work because I could. A 907 cc kit, bigger carbs, new cams and head and it easily made 115 rwhp. Riders behind me simply followed the black lines out of the corners. 


It didn't have a passenger seat but I wasn't riding alone. Former cyclists turned journalists, lawyers, electrical engineers came together and soon  we were all putting knees down in corners at speed.

Ahh yes, speed. 88 rwhp was good for about 140 on a straight road. 115 rwhp made things happen faster. Pulling away from a bike whose GPS recorded 164 mph was the nearest I came to figuring out how fast it could go.  Late in the summer of 2002 I found myself on another group ride. We were using the various roads of western Dane, Iowa, and Sauk counties as our race track. A break for lunch in Reedsburg was the last coherent interaction I recall. A short time later we were headed toward Wonewoc at speed. Brian and Aaron were a distance ahead of me with Cory and Tommy behind. A twist of the right wrist and the gap began to close. As I leaned the bike into a sweeping right hander I gave the front brake a squeeze to slow it down a bit. Unfortunately it was enough to make the front tire skid which resulted in a "low-side" 200 feet to the far shoulder of the road. I remember thinking at that moment "this is going to hurt."

At the shoulder the front end bit and vaulted me and the bike off the road. The bike landed about 350 feet from the shoulder. I only made it about 300 feet. I landed on my back and didn't go much further.  The battery went nearly 400 feet.


Cory and Tommy recalled that they went though the corner at about 130 all the while watching me arc though the sky. 

Medflite took me from Reedsburg Hospital to UW Hospital where the surgeons repaired my wrists and re-inflated a lung. My shoulder and 6 ribs were also broken but my leathers and helmet had protected my flesh. 12 days later I was a zombie sitting at home with my bottle of oxycontin. By spring of 2003 I was relatively normal. 

I still have it sitting in the garage. I've repaired the damaged part of the frame and accumulated the parts to make it road worthy. 

It is sitting there like an elephant in the room and I can't seem to focus on anything else.