CLOSING...
…and this brings to a close the first section of my journey.
My travelogue continues at:
http://motorcycle-travelogue.blogspot.com/
Vespa_Travelogue
About Me
- Name: Ron Mcnerney
- Location: Federal Way, Washington, United States
In August of 2006 my wife, Carolyn, and I went on a ride with our Vespa scooters. This ride ended up turning into over a nine hour journey from Joyce to Federal Way. Once we arrived home, we realized that we enjoyed ourselves and that we wanted to do more long distance riding. Also, the increased travel distance would allow us to be more involved in ministry work with the Christian Motorcyclists Association, that we are part of. However, we realized that the scooters were not suited to the type of riding we envisioned. The next few days turned into a flurry of research into the motorcycle world. Within twelve days of our long ride home, we purchased two Kawasaki Vulcan 750’s. As with my scooter travelogue, I invite you to read along and enjoy our motorcycle adventures…
- CLOSING...
- ROAD RAMBLINGS…
- LAST CITY CRUISE OF THE SEASON…
- DO THE MATH…
- THE MORNING AFTER…
- Gas gauge on "E" ... and the station is closed!
- Rest stop by the side of the road
- THE LONG WAY HOME…
- Strait of Juan de Fuca.
- Looking down from the gun placement.
- June 2004
- July 2004
- August 2004
- September 2004
- October 2004
- November 2004
- December 2004
- January 2005
- February 2005
- March 2005
- April 2005
- May 2005
- June 2005
- July 2005
- August 2005
- September 2005
- October 2005
- November 2005
- December 2005
- January 2006
- February 2006
- March 2006
- April 2006
- June 2006
- July 2006
- August 2006
- September 2006
- October 2006
- November 2006
- April 2007
Thursday, April 12, 2007
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
ROAD RAMBLINGS…
I am taking a class at Ducati Seattle, sponsored by the Evergreen Safety Council on “Basic Scooter Maintenance”. Wanna learn how to do some of the simple things to maintain my scooter myself. I’m a smart fella…I should be able to change my own oil! And six hours later…I have a certificate of completion. Pretty cool!
I decide to stop at the mall in Federal Way and get a quick slice of pizza, so I don’t walk in the house starving. As I am parking, a rider on a big blue GoldWing pulls into the spot along side me.
“Hey bro,” he calls out, “great day for a ride”
I agree…and we chat for a few minutes.
All dogs, from the family Poodle to the highly trained Police German Shepherd, can be seen riding in the car…head out the window…tongue hangin’ out…sorta ridin’ ‘in the wind.’
We are going through the tunnel at the end of Ruston Way…at least thirteen motorcycles…horn’s blowing…engines revving…the tunnel is reverberating with the sound…there is one lone automobile coming in the opposite direction…I can only wonder what is going through his mind as he enters the tunnel.
Carolyn and I come to a stop behind several cars waiting at a traffic signal. A large pickup truck pulls up in back of us filling our rear view mirror with his shinny chrome grille. When he blows his horn…we turn to look…the driver grins…points at us…and gives us two thumbs up! Was it because of our scooters, or was it because of our CMA colors?
I decide to stop at the mall in Federal Way and get a quick slice of pizza, so I don’t walk in the house starving. As I am parking, a rider on a big blue GoldWing pulls into the spot along side me.
“Hey bro,” he calls out, “great day for a ride”
I agree…and we chat for a few minutes.
All dogs, from the family Poodle to the highly trained Police German Shepherd, can be seen riding in the car…head out the window…tongue hangin’ out…sorta ridin’ ‘in the wind.’
We are going through the tunnel at the end of Ruston Way…at least thirteen motorcycles…horn’s blowing…engines revving…the tunnel is reverberating with the sound…there is one lone automobile coming in the opposite direction…I can only wonder what is going through his mind as he enters the tunnel.
Carolyn and I come to a stop behind several cars waiting at a traffic signal. A large pickup truck pulls up in back of us filling our rear view mirror with his shinny chrome grille. When he blows his horn…we turn to look…the driver grins…points at us…and gives us two thumbs up! Was it because of our scooters, or was it because of our CMA colors?
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
LAST CITY CRUISE OF THE SEASON…
September City Cruise…everyone is getting’ ready to leave from Moto International…we’ve each been given a map…Sharon is going to follow me, her contacts are bothering her; can’t read the map. I am studying the map…I can do this.
“Go across Aurora, three blocks, turn left, travel several more blocks…”
“Ron, North is the other direction,” Dick interrupts me; “you’ve got the map upside down.”
Oops, that’s why I don’t lead….Dave is going to be joining us and we will all follow Dick to the final destination.
In an article for AARP Magazine, author Denis Boyles wrote about different types of navigation tools and the people who use them.
Navigation tool.....What it says about you
GPS......You don’t know where you’re going, but you’ve got enough cash to make sure it doesn’t really matter.
Computer map.....You finally figured out the PC. Now if you could only teach it to drive.
Gas station map.....You’re confident but not stupid.
Scribbled note on slip of paper .....You’re confident and stupid.
Spouse .....You’re confident you married somebody who isn’t stupid.
“Go across Aurora, three blocks, turn left, travel several more blocks…”
“Ron, North is the other direction,” Dick interrupts me; “you’ve got the map upside down.”
Oops, that’s why I don’t lead….Dave is going to be joining us and we will all follow Dick to the final destination.
In an article for AARP Magazine, author Denis Boyles wrote about different types of navigation tools and the people who use them.
Navigation tool.....What it says about you
GPS......You don’t know where you’re going, but you’ve got enough cash to make sure it doesn’t really matter.
Computer map.....You finally figured out the PC. Now if you could only teach it to drive.
Gas station map.....You’re confident but not stupid.
Scribbled note on slip of paper .....You’re confident and stupid.
Spouse .....You’re confident you married somebody who isn’t stupid.
Seems to me that I fall into the last one of the last two categories…mostly the last … most all of the time.
DO THE MATH…
What do we need?…what are the things that are important to us?…where can we compromise? Well, we know that we don’t want to ride two-up…so, eventually we will need to get two motorcycles. I want something as light as possible…I love the Harley look…but, I feel they are just too heavy for me to handle comfortably. And that’s another thing…I want comfort! A good seat is very important to me. I want a gas tank big enough to allow some distance between refills…I’m thinking four gallons. We don’t need the biggest, baddest engine in town…I still don’t plan on doing a lot of freeway riding…however I don’t want something so small that we will still be unsatisfied and want to step up to something else in a year or two. We rode the Honda Rebel 250 at our safety training course. But hear that’s really a bit small for the long distance. I visit dealers websites…ask questions of other riders in our Destiny Rider’s chapter…read magazine reviews…research online…e-pinions is a website where actual owners of products do the reviews. I am printing pages and pages of reports, facts and figures, reviews, and motorcycle comparisons…all of which I read to Carolyn on the morning commute to work. During the day I’m looking online at used bikes to get an idea of the price range. At night we are visiting dealerships to look at and sit on various models.
We like the Kawasaki Vulcan 500, the Suzuki Boulevard 500, and the Yamaha V-Star 650. Looks like all of there fit our needs. We are at a dealership in Renton that sells all three models. The Suzuki is uncomfortable to sit on. The Yamaha is nice but heavier, costs more, and sits lower that the Kawasaki. The Vulcan 500 is an older style look to it…not quite as glamorous at the V-star.
We are on our way into Bellevue to have dinner with Carolyn’s mom…I found that there is a Kawasaki dealer on our way. I want to go in and sit on a Vulcan 500…again. We look at it…the salesman is very helpful, but he keeps wanting to show us the Vulcan 750. Now, I’m sure that is more bike that we need or want.
“It’s a great starter bike.” he says.
“Can you explain why does everyone say it’s a starter bike?” Carolyn asks.
“Yea, it’s big enough for the freeway.”
“Imagine you are going sixty on the freeway,” he explains; “and something happens in front of you. Twist the throttle on the 500 and it’s going to have to build up speed gradually. On the 750, it will launch you.”
“But, it’s bigger and heavier.”
“Less that two hundred pounds,” he says; “and they have the same seat height. The front disk brakes, self adjusting valves…that will save you over a hundred dollars on each tune-up. The 500 still uses a chain, while the 750 has a drive shaft. Are you familiar with the benefits of a drive shaft?”
I assure him that I am. More to think about…the 750 is half again larger than we have been looking at. We head on out to a lovely family dinner…all the while with visions of motorcycles whirling around in our heads.
We like the Kawasaki Vulcan 500, the Suzuki Boulevard 500, and the Yamaha V-Star 650. Looks like all of there fit our needs. We are at a dealership in Renton that sells all three models. The Suzuki is uncomfortable to sit on. The Yamaha is nice but heavier, costs more, and sits lower that the Kawasaki. The Vulcan 500 is an older style look to it…not quite as glamorous at the V-star.
We are on our way into Bellevue to have dinner with Carolyn’s mom…I found that there is a Kawasaki dealer on our way. I want to go in and sit on a Vulcan 500…again. We look at it…the salesman is very helpful, but he keeps wanting to show us the Vulcan 750. Now, I’m sure that is more bike that we need or want.
“It’s a great starter bike.” he says.
“Can you explain why does everyone say it’s a starter bike?” Carolyn asks.
“Yea, it’s big enough for the freeway.”
“Imagine you are going sixty on the freeway,” he explains; “and something happens in front of you. Twist the throttle on the 500 and it’s going to have to build up speed gradually. On the 750, it will launch you.”
“But, it’s bigger and heavier.”
“Less that two hundred pounds,” he says; “and they have the same seat height. The front disk brakes, self adjusting valves…that will save you over a hundred dollars on each tune-up. The 500 still uses a chain, while the 750 has a drive shaft. Are you familiar with the benefits of a drive shaft?”
I assure him that I am. More to think about…the 750 is half again larger than we have been looking at. We head on out to a lovely family dinner…all the while with visions of motorcycles whirling around in our heads.
THE MORNING AFTER…
All the way to work we are talking about how great the ride yesterday was. We have decided to get a motorcycle…now, we just have to figure out what we really need. I can feel the excitement mounting…
THE LONG WAY HOME…
It's Sunday morning and our weekend at the Joyce Daze Celebration is winding down. We attended the Joyce Bible Church and are enjoying being guests at the church's annual potluck breakfast. When both Carolyn and I finish this last plate of desert, I do believe it will be time to start heading back to Federal Way. I know Carolyn has looked at the map earlier this morning and has our route all planned out. We are working our way around the room, saying our good-byes, when Jake calls me over.
"We are going to take a scenic route home, back roads," he says; "we'll end up going through Humptulips and catching a steeple there. Would you like to ride with us?"
I look at Carolyn...the thought of checking off another steeple from the Steeple Chase list is intriguing...a scenic ride home...a group ride...someone else leading...sounds good to us.
"Yeah, we'd like to join you. We're pretty loaded down, don't think we can go over fifty."
"It's all back roads," Jake reply reassuringly; "we'll take our time and enjoy the ride."
"Okay, we'll go back to the house, pack up our tent, and meet you back here as fast as we can. We need to stop and get gas before we start, too."
Carolyn and I ride back toward the house where we have spent the weekend. It makes sense to get gas before we load up the scooters...but we must ride to the next town, which is several miles past where our tent is! We now have full tanks...the tent and all our gear is packed and strapped on the scooters...we are ready to go back to the church parking lot and meet with Jake. Jake is waiting for us, as well as Chuck and Malinda. Looks like we have two big cruisers, followed by two Vespas, followed by a van...the doctor won't let Kathy ride until her foot is completely healed. Malinda decides to ride in the van and keep Kathy company.
It is three-fifteen, on a warm sunny Sunday afternoon, as our little group pulls out of the Joyce Bible Church parking lot. Jake is leading...now, I know that he is holding back on the long straight stretches of road...but, on the twisties...Carolyn and I are right there with 'em. Full throttle...wide open...leanin' into the curves...cruisin' right about fifty. We are on Highway 101...we have come out of the hills and now following the coast line.
Everything seems to be going fine...till I notice that Chuck is gradually slowing down. Jake is continuing on ahead, I'm not going to pass Chuck...so I begin to slow also. Fifty...forty...thirty...I look in my mirror to see how Carolyn is doing. She's not there! Now I realize why Chuck is slowing...he noticed that she was missing long before I did. We come to a nice gentle sweeping curve in the road...big wide shoulder...beautiful view of the water...Chuck pulls over...I pull over...and we wait. Only a few minutes pass before Carolyn, followed by the van come around the corner and pull off the road to join us. Guess Carolyn's saddle bag had come undone and was flapping about. Kathy and Malinda were worried about stuff blowing out...so, they signaled her to pull over...got everything re-secured...and began catch up to the rest of us. And here comes Jake…down the road from the opposite direction...he must have been quite a distance ahead before he realized that he was all alone on the road. Of the three of us, Chuck was the only one who was keeping an eye out for the rider behind him. I have learned a good lesson today.
We continue on Highway 101 for some ways before we move inland. By now I am noticing the strain of riding wide open, fully loaded…my gas gauge is dipping to the “E”. I haven’t hit the reserve yet…but that is only half a gallon. At a stop sign I indicate to Chuck that I’m getting low…he passes the word to Jake. At the next little town we stop and fill up. In order to fill our tank I must unstrap the sleeping bag, tent, travel bag, and tarp. Once the tank is full, the process is reversed. We do this for both scooters. We make it to the church in Humptulips before it is dark and get our pictures. We take the time to put on more layers of clothing … check the map…and we’re back on the road. Once again the gas gauge is getting low ...this time, however, the place where we planned to eat and get gas is closed…boarded up…out of business. Carolyn is not using as much gas as I am. Chuck is suggesting that we could siphon some gas from one of the motorcycles. Jake is sure that there is another gas station close by. I’m not too worried…I know they won’t abandon me out here. I am feeling a bit of frustration…with the extra work getting unpacking and repacking each time we need gas and the small tanks. Yea, I realize that the scooters were never made for this kind of long distance travel. We have read about people riding cross country on scooters…older and smaller scooters. But, older scooters had external access to the gas cap! We ride on and I can feel my frustration growing…I want to be able to take longer ride…but, this just isn’t working. Carolyn and I have been talking about upgrading the scooter engines. We reach the next gas station before I run out of fuel. Right across the street is a restaurant. So, gas and dinner and we are good to go again. Now it is getting cooler and darker. I have no idea how much longer we will have to travel to get home…but, I’m sure we have a couple more hours riding to do.
As the clock hits ten, I’m beginning to worry about Carolyn…I know she doesn’t enjoy being cold or late night riding. It’s eleven o’clock…and I know we have another hour to go…we just keep pushing onward…nothing else we can do. I just know Carolyn is never going to want to go on a long ride again…never want to ride at night again…maybe never want to ride with these people again.
It is a little after midnight when we finally pull into our driveway. This is the first chance I’ve had to actually talk with Carolyn…as we pull off our helmets, she looks at me and says; “That was some ride!” I go in and open the garage door…park the scooters…and grab the one bag Carolyn will need for the morning. I expect she will be heading directly for bed…maybe already there.
“What a ride! We’ve got to find a way to get motorcycles,” she says; “if we want to keep riding with people.”
"We are going to take a scenic route home, back roads," he says; "we'll end up going through Humptulips and catching a steeple there. Would you like to ride with us?"
I look at Carolyn...the thought of checking off another steeple from the Steeple Chase list is intriguing...a scenic ride home...a group ride...someone else leading...sounds good to us.
"Yeah, we'd like to join you. We're pretty loaded down, don't think we can go over fifty."
"It's all back roads," Jake reply reassuringly; "we'll take our time and enjoy the ride."
"Okay, we'll go back to the house, pack up our tent, and meet you back here as fast as we can. We need to stop and get gas before we start, too."
Carolyn and I ride back toward the house where we have spent the weekend. It makes sense to get gas before we load up the scooters...but we must ride to the next town, which is several miles past where our tent is! We now have full tanks...the tent and all our gear is packed and strapped on the scooters...we are ready to go back to the church parking lot and meet with Jake. Jake is waiting for us, as well as Chuck and Malinda. Looks like we have two big cruisers, followed by two Vespas, followed by a van...the doctor won't let Kathy ride until her foot is completely healed. Malinda decides to ride in the van and keep Kathy company.
It is three-fifteen, on a warm sunny Sunday afternoon, as our little group pulls out of the Joyce Bible Church parking lot. Jake is leading...now, I know that he is holding back on the long straight stretches of road...but, on the twisties...Carolyn and I are right there with 'em. Full throttle...wide open...leanin' into the curves...cruisin' right about fifty. We are on Highway 101...we have come out of the hills and now following the coast line.
Everything seems to be going fine...till I notice that Chuck is gradually slowing down. Jake is continuing on ahead, I'm not going to pass Chuck...so I begin to slow also. Fifty...forty...thirty...I look in my mirror to see how Carolyn is doing. She's not there! Now I realize why Chuck is slowing...he noticed that she was missing long before I did. We come to a nice gentle sweeping curve in the road...big wide shoulder...beautiful view of the water...Chuck pulls over...I pull over...and we wait. Only a few minutes pass before Carolyn, followed by the van come around the corner and pull off the road to join us. Guess Carolyn's saddle bag had come undone and was flapping about. Kathy and Malinda were worried about stuff blowing out...so, they signaled her to pull over...got everything re-secured...and began catch up to the rest of us. And here comes Jake…down the road from the opposite direction...he must have been quite a distance ahead before he realized that he was all alone on the road. Of the three of us, Chuck was the only one who was keeping an eye out for the rider behind him. I have learned a good lesson today.
We continue on Highway 101 for some ways before we move inland. By now I am noticing the strain of riding wide open, fully loaded…my gas gauge is dipping to the “E”. I haven’t hit the reserve yet…but that is only half a gallon. At a stop sign I indicate to Chuck that I’m getting low…he passes the word to Jake. At the next little town we stop and fill up. In order to fill our tank I must unstrap the sleeping bag, tent, travel bag, and tarp. Once the tank is full, the process is reversed. We do this for both scooters. We make it to the church in Humptulips before it is dark and get our pictures. We take the time to put on more layers of clothing … check the map…and we’re back on the road. Once again the gas gauge is getting low ...this time, however, the place where we planned to eat and get gas is closed…boarded up…out of business. Carolyn is not using as much gas as I am. Chuck is suggesting that we could siphon some gas from one of the motorcycles. Jake is sure that there is another gas station close by. I’m not too worried…I know they won’t abandon me out here. I am feeling a bit of frustration…with the extra work getting unpacking and repacking each time we need gas and the small tanks. Yea, I realize that the scooters were never made for this kind of long distance travel. We have read about people riding cross country on scooters…older and smaller scooters. But, older scooters had external access to the gas cap! We ride on and I can feel my frustration growing…I want to be able to take longer ride…but, this just isn’t working. Carolyn and I have been talking about upgrading the scooter engines. We reach the next gas station before I run out of fuel. Right across the street is a restaurant. So, gas and dinner and we are good to go again. Now it is getting cooler and darker. I have no idea how much longer we will have to travel to get home…but, I’m sure we have a couple more hours riding to do.
As the clock hits ten, I’m beginning to worry about Carolyn…I know she doesn’t enjoy being cold or late night riding. It’s eleven o’clock…and I know we have another hour to go…we just keep pushing onward…nothing else we can do. I just know Carolyn is never going to want to go on a long ride again…never want to ride at night again…maybe never want to ride with these people again.
It is a little after midnight when we finally pull into our driveway. This is the first chance I’ve had to actually talk with Carolyn…as we pull off our helmets, she looks at me and says; “That was some ride!” I go in and open the garage door…park the scooters…and grab the one bag Carolyn will need for the morning. I expect she will be heading directly for bed…maybe already there.
“What a ride! We’ve got to find a way to get motorcycles,” she says; “if we want to keep riding with people.”
Because I am unfamiliar with the roads…I just follow and observe signs as we pass by…I know that we went from Joyce through the Olympic National Forest, Humptulips, Amanda Park, Hoquiam, Aberdeen, Lacey, Olympia, University Place, Tacoma, and finally, Federal Way. We traveled nine hours!
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
JOYCE DAZE...
We have spend Thursday evening packing. Now, I realize that we are only going to be going on a weekend outing…so we don’t have a lot to pack. However, we have to take everything that we need. It’s not like packing everything into the trunk of a car. I must find a place for each item to fit…and them secure it down. Fortunately, I have filled the tanks and checked the tire pressure and done all the other pre-ride stuff already. Little by little, each item goes on…I have my scooter packed before I can start on Carolyn’s. She is still packing her overnight bag. By bedtime it is all done.
The ride up here last night after work, from Seattle to Joyce, was pleasant enough…good weather…good roads…good scenery. We passed through the quaint town of Port Gamble. It has many restored building, businesses and homes. I’m not exactly sure what one does here for work…but, it certainly is a lovely little town. It was an added benefit meeting up with another rider on the way…we rode the last hour with Mike “Ducktape”.
It was kinda funny to see the three of us take the wrong exit and end up riding through the town of Sequim. It is a smaller town…and I think the entire police force must have been parked on the main street going through town. We passed three patrol cars sitting in a parking lot. Once Carolyn realized that we took the wrong exit and needed to be back on the highway we made a tidy U-turn and headed back through town…past one of the patrol cars still parked in the empty lot. It was even funnier to realize that at the end of town there was only an “off” exit from the highway…we couldn’t get back on. Then we turned around…again, and headed back through town…again, past one of the very same officers…again. I’m sure that he must have had some concern as to what we were doing…cruisin’ up and down the main street of his quiet little town.
Arriving at the farm of the folks who are our weekend hosts was exciting. Seeing other CMA bikers pulling in and a whole little tent city being established. Setting up our tent…trying to pound in the stakes with a crescent wrench…’cause I forgot the hammer. It was so great that Chuck walked over from his tent with a hammer for me to use. The fellowship and food was wonderful!
The ride up here last night after work, from Seattle to Joyce, was pleasant enough…good weather…good roads…good scenery. We passed through the quaint town of Port Gamble. It has many restored building, businesses and homes. I’m not exactly sure what one does here for work…but, it certainly is a lovely little town. It was an added benefit meeting up with another rider on the way…we rode the last hour with Mike “Ducktape”.
It was kinda funny to see the three of us take the wrong exit and end up riding through the town of Sequim. It is a smaller town…and I think the entire police force must have been parked on the main street going through town. We passed three patrol cars sitting in a parking lot. Once Carolyn realized that we took the wrong exit and needed to be back on the highway we made a tidy U-turn and headed back through town…past one of the patrol cars still parked in the empty lot. It was even funnier to realize that at the end of town there was only an “off” exit from the highway…we couldn’t get back on. Then we turned around…again, and headed back through town…again, past one of the very same officers…again. I’m sure that he must have had some concern as to what we were doing…cruisin’ up and down the main street of his quiet little town.
Arriving at the farm of the folks who are our weekend hosts was exciting. Seeing other CMA bikers pulling in and a whole little tent city being established. Setting up our tent…trying to pound in the stakes with a crescent wrench…’cause I forgot the hammer. It was so great that Chuck walked over from his tent with a hammer for me to use. The fellowship and food was wonderful!
On Saturday we all are part of the Joyce Daze Parade. The city of Joyce is a Clallam County community 15 miles west of Port Angeles on Highway 112, Joyce is the eastern most in a series of small towns on the Strait of Juan de Fuca that cater to commercial and recreational fishermen. Once a year they actually shut down the highway and the parade travels from one end of the town to the other.
The town also boasts the oldest continuously operated general store in the state. We wandered inside. The wooden floor was uneven and creaked underfoot. The lighting was dim. It really was a general store in the old time sense of the of the term. There was canned food, snacks, fishing lures, canning supplies, spark plugs, nuts, bolts & screws, post cards, even a little post office in one corner
After the parade, we take a ride around Lake Crescent and stop at a little store for a snack. Long empty, winding roads…great for a motorcycle ride.
The leader of our group ride grew up here and he knows some very scenic roads. We ride up to high point looking out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It was a Second World War gun bunker…poised to guard the Washington coast against invasion form the Japanese Navy. The guns are long gone, but the bunkers are still there. Most of the steel doors are locked and chained shut. I can only imagine how deep they go into the mountain.
The town also boasts the oldest continuously operated general store in the state. We wandered inside. The wooden floor was uneven and creaked underfoot. The lighting was dim. It really was a general store in the old time sense of the of the term. There was canned food, snacks, fishing lures, canning supplies, spark plugs, nuts, bolts & screws, post cards, even a little post office in one corner
After the parade, we take a ride around Lake Crescent and stop at a little store for a snack. Long empty, winding roads…great for a motorcycle ride.
The leader of our group ride grew up here and he knows some very scenic roads. We ride up to high point looking out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca. It was a Second World War gun bunker…poised to guard the Washington coast against invasion form the Japanese Navy. The guns are long gone, but the bunkers are still there. Most of the steel doors are locked and chained shut. I can only imagine how deep they go into the mountain.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
LITTLE GREEN VEHICLE – IDENTIFIED…
It's been a little over two weeks since I spotted my 'Little Green Vehicle' on the ferry to Bainbridge...and here I am hard at work...checking the Yahoo News...interesting interview with a man who collects, and drives, nothing but electric automobiles. For him it is a environmental issue. As the gentleman takes the camera crew for a tour of his garage, he gives a brief 'talk' about some of the vintage cars in his collection. I am sure that my eyes have bugged out and my ears are pointing...as he makes mention of a car parked in the far corner...he called it a Sparrow...while it is yellow, it is the cousin of my Little Green Vehicle. I replay the video several time to make sure I have the correct name...yup...that's what he said...a Sparrow.
I immediately type in “Sparrow” and begin to search.
I did some research...the Sparrow was produced by Corbin Motors out of Hollister, California, from 2000 to 2002. In March of 2003 they went bankrupt. In 2004 Myers Motors purchased the company and moved it to Tallmadge, Ohio. The vehicle was renamed the NmG...No More Gas.
The original Sparrow had thirteen 12-volt batteries, 35-45 mph cruising speed, with a top speed of 75 mph. It sold for $13,900. 355 Sparrows were produced...250 actually made it to the public roads...there is an estimated 40 to 50 still running.
The new NmG retails for $35,000. Has AM/FM/CD, electric windows, 2-speed automatic transmission (forward & reverse), 1350 lbs, 25-40 miles range per charge, six hour recharge time on 110 outlet or three hours on special 220 battery charger, and three wheel disc brakes. There were only 35 produced so far in 2006.
Because of its size and construction it is classified, sold, insured, and licensed as a motorcycle. Because it is enclosed a helmet is not required.
I really would have liked to talk to the driver of the Sparrow that I saw on the ferry a couple weeks ago…but, maybe another time.
I immediately type in “Sparrow” and begin to search.
I did some research...the Sparrow was produced by Corbin Motors out of Hollister, California, from 2000 to 2002. In March of 2003 they went bankrupt. In 2004 Myers Motors purchased the company and moved it to Tallmadge, Ohio. The vehicle was renamed the NmG...No More Gas.
The original Sparrow had thirteen 12-volt batteries, 35-45 mph cruising speed, with a top speed of 75 mph. It sold for $13,900. 355 Sparrows were produced...250 actually made it to the public roads...there is an estimated 40 to 50 still running.
The new NmG retails for $35,000. Has AM/FM/CD, electric windows, 2-speed automatic transmission (forward & reverse), 1350 lbs, 25-40 miles range per charge, six hour recharge time on 110 outlet or three hours on special 220 battery charger, and three wheel disc brakes. There were only 35 produced so far in 2006.
Because of its size and construction it is classified, sold, insured, and licensed as a motorcycle. Because it is enclosed a helmet is not required.
I really would have liked to talk to the driver of the Sparrow that I saw on the ferry a couple weeks ago…but, maybe another time.
LITTLE GREEN VEHICLE…
When I was packing this morning, I decided that I should put my camera in my bag. I kept telling myself that I'd regret it if I wanted it and didn't have it. After all that's why I have a camera...to carry it and take pictures.
I find myself...once again on the ferry...going to Bainbridge Island...and there it is...a little green vehicle. Now I have no idea what it is...but, it is in the lane with the motorcycles. I can see that it is a single seater...has three wheels, two in the front...sorta teardrop shaped...no emblems or logos on it at all...and bright green. This should lead to an interesting conversation on the ferry ride.
I am going to snap a couple pictures while I wait for the driver to get out. The driver sees me with my camera, and doesn't look too impressed. I'd think anyone who drives such an unusual vehicle would be quite used to having people stare at it, take pictures, and want to talk about it. Okay, she's on her cell phone and is not making any indication of getting out. I am going up to the seating area...perhaps I'll catch her a little later.
Still on the phone...
The crew is calling for all drivers to return to their cars.
Still on the phone...
We have reached the dock...the ferry is tied up...the ramp is down...the bicycles are peddling off...the motorcycles are roaring to life.
Still on the phone...
All the motorcycle leave the ferry and head away from the terminal. As we approach the first stop light, I catch a glimpse of the Little Green Vehicle to the left in a turn lane.
Still on the phone…
I never get a chance to talk to the driver...I have no idea what type of vehicle it is...or anything about it.
Once home, I post the pictures on a scooter website asking if anyone can identify it.
I find myself...once again on the ferry...going to Bainbridge Island...and there it is...a little green vehicle. Now I have no idea what it is...but, it is in the lane with the motorcycles. I can see that it is a single seater...has three wheels, two in the front...sorta teardrop shaped...no emblems or logos on it at all...and bright green. This should lead to an interesting conversation on the ferry ride.
I am going to snap a couple pictures while I wait for the driver to get out. The driver sees me with my camera, and doesn't look too impressed. I'd think anyone who drives such an unusual vehicle would be quite used to having people stare at it, take pictures, and want to talk about it. Okay, she's on her cell phone and is not making any indication of getting out. I am going up to the seating area...perhaps I'll catch her a little later.
Still on the phone...
The crew is calling for all drivers to return to their cars.
Still on the phone...
We have reached the dock...the ferry is tied up...the ramp is down...the bicycles are peddling off...the motorcycles are roaring to life.
Still on the phone...
All the motorcycle leave the ferry and head away from the terminal. As we approach the first stop light, I catch a glimpse of the Little Green Vehicle to the left in a turn lane.
Still on the phone…
I never get a chance to talk to the driver...I have no idea what type of vehicle it is...or anything about it.
Once home, I post the pictures on a scooter website asking if anyone can identify it.
RALLY FOR THE TROOPS…
When I first saw the ad for the third annual Rally For The Troops, I read it very carefully. This ad is written very purposely and covered a lot of ground. Doesn’t matter if you like a particular politician…or not. Doesn’t matter if you think the war is right…or not. Doesn’t matter if you agree with our government’s current foreign policy…or not. This is a rally to show support of our troops…of husbands, fathers, and sons…of wives, mothers, and daughters…of people! Bikers from everywhere are being invited. The ad encourages club members to wear their colors, but to know this is a neutral zone. Everyone is being asked to put all their differences aside for one day and show their support for our soldiers.
It is still several weeks away, so that gives me plenty of time to get ready. I want an American Flag patch for my leather vest…and a flag to fly on the back of my scooter. The local CMA chapters are volunteering to work at this event. Don’t know what I’ll be doing when I get there…but, I’m sure there will be someone in charge that will know what the plan is.
Carolyn and I leave the house early this morning. I know it will only take us twenty minutes to get to Destination Harley Davidson in Fife…but I want to make sure we are there in plenty of time to get our work assignments. We arrive and park in a section reserved for volunteers…all the other riders will be directed to park in the open lots across the street. Once we park, we set off to find Dan…he’s the one in charge of most everything.
I am assigned to work at the Registration Area, Dan wants someone hold the money as the registration people collect the fees. Carolyn is going to be working at a Children’s Ministry Table. I am amazed at the volume of people here. They seem to come in unending waves. Bikers of every description…outlaw club members…sport bike riders…professional white collar folks…men and women …solo and two-up…riders of classic machines and custom choppers, coming to register. Don’t believe that I’ve ever seen so much black leather in one place.
Sometime around ten o’clock the National Anthem is sung…a solider back from Iraq speaks briefly…and Dan from CMA talks about the days ride. By eleven o’clock people are migrating across the street toward the parking lots full of bikes. The ride leaves at eleven-thirty and heads down Interstate-5 to Fort Lewis…turns around…and will return to Destination Harley Davidson in Fife. There is a police escort and the police are blocking traffic at various points along the route. The first count is in…there are over two thousand bike registered…and many are riding two-up! It is something to stand on the sidewalk and watch as the bikes begin to roll out…they just keep coming and coming. It takes over half an hour to get all the bikes out of the parking lots and onto the road. Every one of the I-5 overpasses are packed full of supporters…people waving American flags and holding patriotic banners. At one point along the route, there is a young lady in very short, shorts, holding a flag and waving at all the passing bikers. I am glad that I have the opportunity to be a small part of this patriotic event. I want to participate next year…and hope it is not necessary.
It is still several weeks away, so that gives me plenty of time to get ready. I want an American Flag patch for my leather vest…and a flag to fly on the back of my scooter. The local CMA chapters are volunteering to work at this event. Don’t know what I’ll be doing when I get there…but, I’m sure there will be someone in charge that will know what the plan is.
Carolyn and I leave the house early this morning. I know it will only take us twenty minutes to get to Destination Harley Davidson in Fife…but I want to make sure we are there in plenty of time to get our work assignments. We arrive and park in a section reserved for volunteers…all the other riders will be directed to park in the open lots across the street. Once we park, we set off to find Dan…he’s the one in charge of most everything.
I am assigned to work at the Registration Area, Dan wants someone hold the money as the registration people collect the fees. Carolyn is going to be working at a Children’s Ministry Table. I am amazed at the volume of people here. They seem to come in unending waves. Bikers of every description…outlaw club members…sport bike riders…professional white collar folks…men and women …solo and two-up…riders of classic machines and custom choppers, coming to register. Don’t believe that I’ve ever seen so much black leather in one place.
Sometime around ten o’clock the National Anthem is sung…a solider back from Iraq speaks briefly…and Dan from CMA talks about the days ride. By eleven o’clock people are migrating across the street toward the parking lots full of bikes. The ride leaves at eleven-thirty and heads down Interstate-5 to Fort Lewis…turns around…and will return to Destination Harley Davidson in Fife. There is a police escort and the police are blocking traffic at various points along the route. The first count is in…there are over two thousand bike registered…and many are riding two-up! It is something to stand on the sidewalk and watch as the bikes begin to roll out…they just keep coming and coming. It takes over half an hour to get all the bikes out of the parking lots and onto the road. Every one of the I-5 overpasses are packed full of supporters…people waving American flags and holding patriotic banners. At one point along the route, there is a young lady in very short, shorts, holding a flag and waving at all the passing bikers. I am glad that I have the opportunity to be a small part of this patriotic event. I want to participate next year…and hope it is not necessary.
