My Mexican Love

Ahh, the open road, the joy of riding for a goal, any goal, in the Lower Keys. I've set myself a challenge tougher perhaps than the search for the Holy Grail, and my results, after years of searching are mixed. Horchata, handmade corn tortillas, puerco, arroz y frijoles, all genuine and available for less than $8- this is definitely not Key West! Ride a little, eat a lot-and its all good stuff!
My one big regret in Key West is the lack of decent Mexican food. Now I know that the term "Mexican Food" covers a multitude of styles and cuisines and that Mexico is about as unified on the food front as any other country as large and diverse. But the fact remains that a decent plate of food typically described as "Mexican" in my former home state of California is simply not available in edible format in Key West. Chico's on Stock Island makes a decent plate of food, not cheap and not Mexican as I know it, odd combinations of ingredients that bear only a passing resemblance to food that I might call "Mexican." Old Town Mexican Cafe off Duval suffers from the same illness, and if my friends demand to eat food from this place I limit myself to a quesadilla which even I can make at home, without screwing up too badly. Theirs tastes okay but not extraordinary.
Salsa Loca also on Duval is much appreciated by locals and tourists but I find their food uninspired and their karaoke style audience participation, and "gift giveaway" lotteries to be puerile and intrusive. They may insist they are offering Mexican food but if they feel the need to say so and if they identify their iced tea as "southern" punters should be smart enough to know what they will be getting in the garishly decorated garden restaurant.

Chango Loco on Bertha Street in an architecturally uninspired building in New Town is a spin off from Salsa Loca, when the owners had a messy public divorce their chef went and started his own place (it was quite the enjoyable scandal for a while). Service is chaotic and the food as uninspired as the building which used to house a famous Cuban location that had grumpy waitresses and huge portions, mention "B's" to any old timer and their eyes will roll and they will start to salivate at the memory. Not anymore.

I've even tried the burrito at Sandy's Cafe at the M&M Laundry on White Street, which turned out bland and watery, almost as bland as the building that houses this one too. How did they do that, reduce rice beans and meat to a flavorless soup? And they are a cheerful group of actual Mexicans serving the slop.
There's more Mexican-ish food at another architectural pile, this time at Mile Marker 24, and it looks better in the sunshine under a bright blue sky.

Coco's Cantina on Cudjoe Key does make some really good Latin dishes, including a few quite excellent Mexican style "specials" from time to time. Coco's is another top rate eatery not actually in Key West at all. The fact that its quite close to my home is just a bonus for me! Coco's, Slice of Paradise and Square Grouper make the Lower Keys entirely edible, actually.

However my hands down favorite Mexican place is run by a Nicaraguan family (Somocistas unfortunately!) 105 miles north of my home, in the town of Homestead and I love to stop there on my way to and from the mainland.

Its off Krome Avenue at 2nd street, near the Police Station and the better known Toro Taco restaurant which I've heard is quite edible. My little hole in the wall has no discernible name, no particular atmosphere other than Central American cheap (fussy sorts should avoid the toilet!) and killer plates of food for less than $6 after their latest round of price hikes.
The clientele is definitely locals, field workers and the like, the juke box plays banda and narco ballads and the waitress is shy and sweet and struggles with her minuscule English. "Coca diet" is the drink of choice but I like to indulge sometimes in a big (styrofoam) cup of horchata, the genuine article, sweet rice milk. Its perfect to wash down a warm plate of puerco en salsa verde, made just like a hungry field hand would approve.

I go there often enough that I think they recognize me and on days when I'm not hungry I'll stop and buy a couple of libras of barbacoa to take home and reheat in the microwave when the hankering for real Mexican overwhelms me. Homemade Mexican, at home! How cool is that?

Parabellum Windshield

I toyed with the idea of not adding a windshield to my "roadster" but even though I have taken to wearing a full face helmet I found the wind drag at speeds over 60 mph to be tiresome, and I want to make a mainland trip or two this winter. I found many extravagant claims, increased mile per gallon principally, on the Parabellum site out of Georgia, and I liked the look of the windshield. The mpg has stayed the same so far, owing to the ease of riding faster.

So I sent them $259 plus $15 shipping and heard nothing back. I then sent them an e-mail and got a quick reply, from an annoyed desk jockey (the boss' wife perhaps?) to the effect that I was an impatient jerk and go screw myself, I'd get it when I got it.

The box showed up and I opened it and found a scribbled set of instructions to the effect that the arms are attached to the handlebar clamp and the lower part is attached to the headlamp: good luck! Well I fiddled and I faddled and cursed the people who designed this kit "specifically" for the Bonneville, and I undid a few more screws than they apparently suggested, and by adding the shield to the mounting brackets, after they were loosely bolted to the motorcycle I got the whole, home made bodge, installed. Oh, and I had to bleed the front brake after the handlebars went upside down and let air into the hydraulics. Grr! (Actually it was no big deal but I think I need more drama). This was one of those fiddly installations that saw me grovelling around on the ground constantly looking for screws and washers that got away from me.

That Parabellum? Very nice it is too. It works beautifully, with excellent wind protection, and the height (20 inches) is perfect, as it puts the top of the shield just below my eyes, so I can look over or through as I need to. It increases engine and wind noise, as I expected, but the weather protection is so good I didn't notice it had started raining the other night until I felt water dripping off my knees into my boots.

Tropical Storm Noel has been sweeping strong winds, up to gale force, across the Keys this week and riding in cross winds has been fine, no wobbling or dragging at all. I think it looks good, for all that its massive. I think I was punished because they only sent me three of four screw covers to complete the installation, and I bear one uncovered screw as a mark of pride. I rebelled against... something, I'm pretty sure... Parabellum's cold indifference to my desire for "instant gratification." Sounds rather sexual in a bad way, I think; no wonder she despises me.

Oh well.

Rain,Rain,Go Away!

I like to say that 2007 was the year we got our hurricanes in small doses, and everyone I've spoken to, outside my work place, likes it that way. Inside my workplace some officers and dispatchers (who rent homes) would quite like a nice storm- the overtime racks up some impressive numbers when you are on duty for 24 hours over several days!

My wife would like an end to the rain, not least because her arthritis gets seriously painful in these conditions. She's taken to getting up in the middle of the night (while I snore on blissfully) and having a "secret life" thanks to the pain that prevents her sleeping.

Personally I'd like more blue skies, less rain gear on the motorcycle and even though its still around 80 degrees air and water temperatures, I find the idea of going swimming in Newfound Harbor unattractive when the skies are grey and menacing overhead. Not to mention the tempestuous winds Tropical Storm Noel is sending our way as it ravages Hispaniola, Cuba and the Bahamas.

Streets in Key West flood easily, every time it rains, every time there is a high, high tide, or better yet when both combine.

When Hurricane Wilma approached the city from the Yucatan, the old timers in town warned that hurricanes coming from Mexico produce flooding, and they were right. Wilma flooded about 70 percent of the city, and created chaos that has been felt ever since. Many people left town unable to cope financially, others left after Wilma capped 8 major storms in two seasons. The emotional strain of preparing to get beaten up by winds, waves and flooding was just too much. I still see cars bearing the bumper sticker Another weekend-Another hurricane, that appeared during those endless series of storm alerts.

Today, street scenes like these bring back bad memories.

I don't like to drive in flooded streets not least because I remember the damage Wilma did to cars' electrical systems even if they temporarily survived partial submersion. Its time, I think for the rains to ease up. My rainwater cistern at home is showing almost four feet of water, and that will easily last me, even with some minor unstoppable leaks, into next year's rainy season. The aquifer in south Florida is dropping precipitously we are told, and though it seems obvious we have an unsustainable level of development, and zero conservation ethic, all this water flooding fields and streets on the mainland (where our aqueduct gets its supplies and pipes the water down to us) is going to encourage the notion that things are okay again. I wish more people had water cisterns- but they fear the "quality" of god's own rain, and are shocked when I tell then what they are drinking when they come to my house. It tastes good and apparently is filtered enough to be bacteria free.

Be that as it may, I look forward still to more sun and shadows in my neighborhood, and more water where it should be, among the mangroves. Enough is enough!

Chain Gang

Its been three weeks since I brought the Triumph Bonneville home and with 1500 miles on the clock its time to get serious about chain maintenance. I swore up and down I'd never get another motorcycle with a chain final drive, but here I am! I like belts best of all and there is an aftermarket kit built by a former Triumph dealer in Pennsylvania (Quiet Power Drive.com) which I have my eye on, but at a thousand dollars it'll have to wait till this chain is worn out. Modern chains on motorcycles are said to be good for 20,000 miles and with a fussy level of care some people claim 40,000 miles out of a set of chain and sprockets, and so it is I have set myself up to take as good care of mine as I can. That's another reason I bought a $220 "optional" center stand...

Like every other Internet discussed motorcycle operation, the care and feeding of the modern motorcycle chain is a subject of plenty of controversy. Some people clean their chains with a spray of WD40 and a wipe with a rag, others use brake cleaner ( as suggested by my dealer). Triumph recommends good old fashioned "paraffin" which, on this side of the Atlantic translates into kerosene, and that is only available at Ace Hardware stores. I bought a gallon at the excellent Ace store on Summerland Key, and my wife gave me a plastic lidded box to dip my Grunge Brush in.

First I pulled off the sprocket cover on the engine- five simple bolts.

Then I took the long brush on the end of the Grunge Buster and slopped kerosene into the sprocket area to clean all the grunge and dirt stuck in there.

Modern final drive chains have little hidden o-rings that keep lubrication inside the chain links, and I fear using modern solvents because they may break down the rubber o-rings and allow the inner lubricant to dry out. Hence the old fashioned, no aerosol kerosene and scrub brush technique. The grunge brush gets three sides of the chain.

Then I dry the chain and sprockets with a piece of oily rag, and let the chain dry. Later, when I go for a ride I will squeeze the little Loobman bottle I have installed ($36 delivered from England), which drips engine oil onto the rear sprocket and lubricates those precious o-rings. It's a typically English low tech gadget that works great, the chain is much cooler and smoother running with a gentle squeeze every tankful of premium.

And then all that's left to do is get out and ride, after cleaning one's hands to keep all that oily stuff off the grips.

So, is it better to buy a new belt every 6,000 miles for the Vespa? Or clean the chain every 1500? Beats me, I'd rather have a lifetime belt drive like the Harleys do, but that is in my future and maybe I'll miss fussing over my old fashioned chain. At my high mileage that's unlikely!

Many Happy Returns

To say its annoying to be born on Halloween is an understatement. I am made to feel somehow ungrateful that people across the planet are choosing to celebrate my birthday but its just that I spent 35 years figuring out who I am, and I'm not ready to disguise myself as someone else, thanks.

Would you entrust your property to this person, Wilma?

You would if it were Halloween at the Key West Police department; she's the assistant property clerk...My colleague Diggy was bummed because he thought we still had to wear our uniforms in Dispatch. We probably did, but still...

That aside I'm 50 and that's supposed to be a cause for crisis. Disappointment on that front too, for anyone expecting me to be worried, fearful or morose. I'm entirely happy to be 50, I have no regrets and I am currently enjoying robust good health. I'm happily married, I enjoy my job and I have an excellent commute ( except when Sheriff's deputies share the road with me as one slow poke did this morning. I had to sit back and just politely enjoy the half-moon view). My colleagues are always available to offer a laugh and change the mood, and at the end of a work day I feel like I've contributed some good to my town.

Beyond immediate gratification (Motorcycle! Motorcycle!) I can look back at a full life and as I start the final third I know I have to capacity to squeeze every drop out of every experience, and take advantage of the mindfulness I have developed over the decades. I am content.

Quite content that Tropical Storm Noel appears set to wipe out a few third world islands (Hispaniola, Cuba, the Bahamas) and spare us all but a week's worth of strong winds and occasional short downpours. Tha fat lady has yet to sing this hurricane season.

Yesterday the wife had a surgical consultation for a wrist operation she is having in December to straighten up a tendon that is going awry so we got to drive around Fort Lauderdale all day. Traffic sucked, there was a jam on I95, another jam on the Turnpike, the streets around the hospital were backed up thanks to construction and on the way home Krome Avenue fro Highway 27 to Homestead was a tailgaters dream, heavy rain, a railroad crossing (closed! Never before at that spot!) and only when I got on Highway One was I able to cruise at 65/70 all the way home.

We stopped at Ikea, their first Florida store, and were thoroughly disappointed. Its supposed to be a cheap and cheerful high quality home furnishing store, and I immediately felt i was in some sort of student housing barracks, square lines, everything in stark primary colors, white black and red primarily, no warmth, no style as I know it. Oh yes, there was pressed board in evidence all over the store.

The food court was different and we came home with some arctic bread (?), cheese, chocolate and crackers all wrapped in Swedish.

My wife got me a Triumph T shirt when we stopped by Pure Triumph to pick up my license plate for the Bonneville, so the day wasn't entirely wasted.

First Cold Front

This time of year if its raining here, its throwing a blizzard of snow around up there. And that spells trouble,even in paradise,because I see a damp newspaper in the drive.

Its rained a lot this summer, but today's drizzle is the mark of a new season. The winds are out of the north today and I can hear the sounds of trucks on the Highway, three quarters of a mile north of my house. When the prevailing winds blow out of the southeast, all I hear is the soughing of the trees around the house. Actually what I listen to when I'm inside the house is the rasping of the central air beating off the outdoor 90 degree heat and 100% humidity of the long summer months.

Right now the a/c is OFF, sliding doors are open, to the 74-degree air outside, and I can hear the dripping of rain off the eaves. Its a great day to be off work, with a book (Kite Runner) and a pot of tea listening to that lovely rain filling the cistern. As long as the cistern is full I don't have to run the gruesome chlorinated aqueduct water into my house and that's always a good thing around here- the tea tastes tons better when made with rainwater.

I will miss the long bright days of summer especially when we switch the clocks back next week I will only get home after dark, too late to take the boat out and go for a swim. Its getting to be time to put the boat on the trailer, change the oil in the outboard and put it away for the winter.

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The end of October also means Fantasy Fest, a celebration initiated 30 years ago to bring some life to the dormant city in the doldrums of October. All this week the highway has been littered with laden motorcycles and out of state cars as they pour into Key West where the downtown is filling with inappropriately costumed Midwesterners anxious to prove they are only respectable at home. Here they are determined to be perfect satyrs, portly, inebriated and acting stupid in public. The business community thanks them, as does the local paper, with the weekly Arts supplement dedicated to their adoration of the heterosexual tastelessness on display. I like the Gay Pride parade earlier in the year, not only because its fun, and funny but because its participants actually know how to pull off their public exhibitionism with panache. The straight folk, among whose ranks I count myself, just look dorky when exhibiting themselves. I keep mine firmly under wraps, thanks.

I will be off work Saturday evening before the chaos begins, so I'll park the Bonneville by the Police Mobile Command Center to keep it safe and I will drag myself to a friend's balcony overlooking Duval Street where my wife and I will enjoy ourselves critiquing the parade and taking pictures.

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Then serenity will descend for a few more blessed weeks until the permanent winter snows up north push the hung over Lotharios back south for a winter of feeling frisky in the keys.

This is the season to wake up in Dispatch where we have been comatose ( apparently) since summer vacations ended and the visitor count fell of a cliff. The drunks will soon be loose and fighting and vomiting and waking up the neighbors.

" Key West 9-1-1, where is your emergency?" all day, all night, all winter long.