Thursday, September 15, 2011

Vroom Vroom

Oh dear yes, as predicted, they are coming. And my nerves are also predictably shattering, for I am not of them.


I find the etiquette of bike week very difficult to manage. Even though my motorcycle with all it's luggage impedimenta looks as though it has arrived from far away, I am in fact commuting from Mile Marker 27 when I get caught in the ebb and flow of Bike Week on the Overseas Highway.


These motorcycles all look the same because they are the same, the American Spirit enjoying a prolonged weekend of mild debauchery...


...beer and no stakes contests on Duval Street, in the land of perpetual summer and low stress motorcycling.


The views are lovely but Flatistan does not challenge a rider with curves in quick succession or hills or complex map reading skills.


This is novice riding heaven, straight lines, low speed limits and perpetually warm weather. And they come in droves this weekend, to get tiddly on light beer and instant fleeting friendship.



Me? I am stuck in my own awkward world of trying to fit in, not to pass clumps of pirates even when know I can because I don't want to seem rude by apparently challenging the nice, monied visitors.


I behave by riding at the back of a long meandering line of slow moving orange and black clothing and underdressed women perched like dead fish trophies high on the hogs.


I ride a motorcycle therefore those that know me assume this is my weekend, not the Conch Blowing Festival, the Beer Festival or the Taste of Key West Festival, or Writers Week or the Lobster Festival or Lesbian Week or the Seafood Festival. No; bike week is when I revel in the company of like minded riders. Moi? Hardly.


I ride because I enjoy it and I enjoy it mostly alone. When Chuck gets back from Asia we will ride somewhere I am sure and if Riepe gets his life back perhaps him too next year. If not it will continue to be my lonely pleasure.


Not that I have anything against everyone expressing their individuality en masse, but it just isn't for me. I am not an individual, I am a misanthrope and I ride my own well muffled ride.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

11 comments:

Bryce said...

Mike:
Life is meant to be enjoyed.
You and your wife and Cheyenne have done quite well and I expect are happy in your own way. A motorcycle to you is personal transportation, it is not a recreation. Yes it is fun, however for those who wish to make noise with straight pipes and often loose morals let them be. They'll be gone shortly and then you and Cheyenne can take your leisurely morning walks without interference and with enjoyment in mind. I suspect your morning walks allow you to unwind from the night shift at the police services station.

Conchscooter said...

Read the last two sentences.

Bryce said...

"I ride because I enjoy it and I enjoy it mostly alone. When Chuck gets back from Asia we will ride somewhere I am sure and if Riepe gets his life back perhaps him too next year. If not it will continue to be my lonely pleasure."

Precisely.

You & Chuck would be welcome up here without question, you have a current passport. Bring Reipe too however he may have to be subject to a weight restriction on some bridges. Then again, you can always tell the foreign careful drivers up here; they are the ones going exactly 100 km/hour, holding up traffic for miles. You'd never do that!

Chuck and the Pheebs said...

Thank you for mentioning me.

I have bought a Honda Shadow halfway around the world; a soulless motorcycling appliance. I joined the forum for the bike, and the owners are like their steeds; thoughtless vanilla by choice.

They found it horribly controversial that I'd consider riding barefoot, much less doing so. Preferred conversation seemed to veer into the "what does one do with boogers" (no, I'm not making this up) territory.

Argh.

Last year, when I walked Duval's conglomeration of bikes, only a handful of the thousands had pre-Evo valvetrain covers. A sea of individualistic conformity. H-D and Custom Chrome making millions off the owners of mainland McMansions desiring to express their uniqueness with 'more of the same".

Ugh.

Motorcycling as an affectation.

Yes - a ride to the mainland if only to say it's been done. A front tire on the continent, no more. All I ask is that if you get a call after Nov 15th regarding a middle aged couple having sex on a motorcycle that you request the color and type of the bike before dispatch.

If it's blue, you'll know.

Anonymous said...

CS and Chuck need to form a misanthrope club ;> Riepe could be invited as well but only as an honorary member since his biting commentary is meant to be humorous.

Jack Riepe said...

Dear ConchScooter:

Please be advised that I am counting on a Key West trip next April as a matter of sanity. It is my intention to take the AutoTrain to Orlando, then ride down Alligator Alley to some shithole of a hotel on the edge of the Everglades. Then I will arrive in Key West do do an in-depth study of Duval Street, booking myself on 62 conequetice rides on the Conch Train the next day.

I would love to do a Keys ride wth you and Chuck, focusing on the "Key Lime," and how its juice enhances rum. I intend to drop your name liberally when confronted by the law. It is my intention to stay in a hotel, as opposed to sleeping in your tool shed, as I would not want to scare your neighbors with hookers coming in and out all day.

Fondest regards,
Jack/reep
Twisted Roads

Jack Riepe said...

PS To Bryce:

I will be as thin as Mahatma Ghandi by next April, so you may kiss my ass.

Anonymous said...

Stay in a small (8-10 rooms)guest house while in KW. Typically no staff is around after 5 so you can bring in all your consorts in complete privacy. If your desire is to proudly display your consorts, you should stay at LaConcha on Duval as their large lobby would provide ample opportunity.

Bryce said...

"

I will be as thin as Mahatma Ghandi by next April, so you may kiss my ass."

Only if you have had a bath...

Mind like all journaists Jack,
you do wax eloquently at times...

Conchscooter said...

I think we should descend en masse on Bryce, breaking speed limits and getting our health care needs taken care of for free by the socialists of the frozen north. They can afford it. Then we can drag him down here fill him with booze, drop him off in the ER and let him enjoy US medical hospitality where we bow down to corporate rapists and listen to Riepe telling us how lucky we are as we take it up the ass (scrubbed clean by the world's most expensive nursing care). At least we won't be cold.
It's just an idea.

Chuck and the Pheebs said...

Geographically speaking, one ascends to Canada, with the possible excpetion of Detroit which happens to be the only US city north of Canadian soil.

My very best speeding has been performed on the 401, with all the OPP's favourite hangouts memorized from the southern terminus all the way to Whitby.

Sadly, the wimmen are imported from Quebec, the home of smoked meat and Poutine. Suggest we terrorize Hamilton then move straight on to Montreal so as to practice verbal abuse with the second-best of their kind, the Quebecois.

AVEC FROMAGE!!!