Thursday, September 10, 2009

The Prospect: A Day in the Life of the Not-Yet-Operational MC

The bikers Chris rides with – James and Jason – are friends he met at work. They are good guys. They have been riding motorcycles for a long time and have helped Chris become an excellent motorcycle rider.

The guys have talked about starting a Motorcycle Club (MC) for months, but have not yet got anything up and running. (I will talk about their stint with the VFW MC in another post.) Even though the Unseen Scorned Hawks Riding their Forsaken Iron Spades Together (USHRFIST) is not yet operational, the guys did manage to obtain a prospect – Mr. Martin.

He bought his 1200 Sportster a couple weeks ago. Ever since, we have had a lot of fun helping him learn how to ride it. First he rode around in the small parking lot at Jason’s apartment. Then this past Saturday we took him to a (mostly) empty large parking lot.

Chris had the (un)pleasure of being the one to ride Martin’s Sportster from Jason’s house to the Mervyn’s parking lot (approximately five miles). Apparently, a Sportster is a lot different than Chris’s Street Bob…he stalled it, he got passed by Jason, and he could not stop complaining about how it controls. BUT! He did get the opportunity to wear his new helmet. That’s right! We now have 7 helmets!

We had Martin weave around the barriers in the lot and make some turns (previously he had only ridden in straight lines and then walked the bike through a U-Turn). He got pretty comfortable with those tasks (and only almost got hit by a car once or twice). Two-year-old Hagen was on cue with his “Uh oh” every time Martin drove past us.

We wrapped it up for the night and agreed to meet at James’ house the next morning.

SIDE NOTE: Somehow, James the Hermit avoided the 45-minute conversation we got trapped in with his neighbor – a black woman named Sheniqua (or something ghetto-fabulous like that), who was a born-again Christian with a psychology degree. Literally, she spent 45 minutes psycho-analyzing my husband while telling us all about the miracles God has performed in her life and making sure we all KNOW she wears the pants in her marriage.

Eventually we all arrived at the “club house” Sunday morning. The guys chatted for a while and then adjusted the gear shifters on both my bike and Martin’s bike. Chris, James and Jason wanted Martin to work on his emergency stop. A little rough at first, but after the third of fourth attempt, he got the hang of it.

Apparently bored out of his mind, James suddenly decided to come blazing out of his garage with his Harley Rocker. Loud as all get-out with his after-market Vance and Hines Big Radius 2-in-2 exhaust, I was worried that he would piss off his neighbors. Even more worried that they would call the cops, I ran out in the street flailing his helmet and sunglasses.

And suddenly, they all mounted their horses and decided to take Martin around the block. I am pretty sure it was a cool moment for all of them. (Finally adding Dudley to their group makes them official, right?)




Jason left to go work on his 13-window VW bus, and the rest of us returned to the vacant parking lot. I worked on my right turns – who knew right turns were more difficult than left ones? I did not, until James said something, and I realized I was making all left turns. So, I forced myself to go round and round and round a barrier clockwise until I was dizzy. I did improve my right turns, but I am sure I looked like an idiot.

Speaking of looking like an idiot, Chris got on my Honda Rebel to try out a course he had set up of figure 8s. I do not know if the pictures accurately portray the reality, but he truly looked like a circus act running figure 8s on my 250cc motorcycle. (Did anyone see the episode of Sons of Anarchy where Half-Sack rode a mini-bike to tail the deputy?)

We spent a couple hours running drills in the parking lot. Martin actually got much much better at making turns than that first night in Jason’s driveway when he almost drove through a garage door.



When we were all tired of running circles around cones and trees, we took all the bikes back to James’ house. Martin really wanted to wash his bike, but James did not have a hose. After contemplating the repercussions of stealing Sheniqua’s hose, Chris hopped on the Bob and disappeared. He returned about 20 minutes later with a hose wrapped around his handlebars.


I voted that the Prospect should have to clean my bike, but Chris (aka The Prez, Eddie Zero or DJ Easydick) said that Martin is a full-patch member now, so we have to go back to picking on Squidward. So, I made The Prez wash my bike. Just kidding. He volunteered – Thank you, Baby!

Martin bought us pizza and then spent three hours washing and polishing his bike. I am not exaggerating. Three hours.



Meanwhile, I took a nap (which I was so very cruelly awakened from), and Chris did a bunch of random customization on his bike. He removed the reflectors from his forks; he removed the reflectors from his rear fender and then removed the front fender. Call me crazy, but don’t fenders and reflectors serve a purpose?!


Jason ditched us to work on the Iceman Charger bus. The rest of us watched the final five episodes of Season One of Sons of Anarchy. Season Two started Sept 8! Woo hoo!

Not as exciting as a cross-country trip, but yet a totally awesome day in the life!






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