There is a study on the effects of the brain when riding a motorcycle completed by Ryuta Kawashima at the University of Tohoku in Japan. The brain activity of 21 males was measured while riding. The study found that areas of the brain responsible for memory, information processing and concentration were activated. Riders scored better in cognitive tests, made fewer mistakes and felt happier and had less stress than non riders in the same group.
The late afternoon start yesteday only let me go 180 miles and I am still not out of Colorado. I am still wiped out from the overnight drive from North Dakota even though it already seems like it happened weeks ago. I awoke early, excitement set in and I can’t wait to get on the road again. I go through the mental checklist while walking around the scooter, kind of a job safety analysis for riding, just like we do every day at work. It is a routine I started on the very first trip 12 years ago and it works. I don’t suscribe to the Malcolm Forbes theory that you hear often in biker circles of ” There are two kind of bikers, those who have went down and those who will.” Nope Malcolm; you are wrong on that one, I am not ever going down on the bike. I do however suscribe to Malcolm’s views on riding. “when I ride, I see clearer and I feel stronger and younger.” (see study results above!!)
I keep promising to add a category to the web page on safe riding, maybe if I run into a rain day on this trip I will get it done.
My motivation for this morning is a certain truck stop in Colby Kansas that has a starbucks so off I go. When I get there the place is full of bikers only they are all headed west to experience the mountains before ending in Sturgis. I wonder if I should turn around and do the same. No, my mind is made up and I had a dream, two feathers is headed to a place he has never been before. Every stop along the way has bikers already there when I pull up. They want to talk, I am friendly but I am just not ready to talk yet. I need space and solititude, the kind you only get from the road where it is just you and nobody can talk to you. What I did learn at the stops though was that I am not alone, there are many bikers out there who go further than the local bar and the weekend cruise. Real travellers, real bikers, all kinds, all motorcycle brands, out there on the highway and they are my brothers.
My other brothers are waiting in Salina so I motor on. I learned at one gas stop that not only is there a large car show going on in Salina but also a small motorcycle rally and I was invited to speak at it. Okay, not really, yes really there is a rally but I was only invited because I stopped to help a couple of guys fix an old shovelhead that had broke down and they invited me so they could reward me with a brew for stopping. I always stop for broken down motorcycles, you would be surprised how many bikers don’t. The car show I already knew about and it was all part of the plan and reason for going this way. My oldest brother Jim with the help of my nephew Shane finally got his 65 Mustang fastback running after working on it for the last 20 years. My other brother Bob is driving up to join us and we are headed to the “Run what you brung street drags” that is part of the Leadsled National car show. I get there, we meet at Jim’s work, Bob shows up and off we go.
I hope this guy stays parked and doesn’t chase them down for crossing the double yellow line! I doubt he could catch them anyway.
Once we get there the races are in full swing. No tree, no clocks, just an old fashion line them up and the flagman waves their arms. All kind of cars racing, street cars, rat rods, pure drag cars, leadsleds and my favorite a 70 chevy pickup with a camper shell. I don’t know what he had in it but what you could see was a rag for a gas cap, camper shell back glass that wouldn’t stay shut, rust, painted wheels, and a hill billy looking driver. He was kicking ass on everyone and I am guessing big block chevy with a little help under all that “I am just a farm truck outer appearence”.
We had a great time and somehow Brother Bob convinced Brother Jim to let him drive back to the office. I followed them as they took the long way and captured this pic. It could have been 1969!
I had a room at the motel much to Brother Jim’s displeasure but I also had friends there so it was pre planned. I left my brothers and headed to the motel. The parking lot was full of hot rods.
Check out the shell casings welded together to make a grille, followed by the shell casing tail light. Some of these Rat Rods are true art.
It was a great day with my brothers!
A long hot day of fun and just as I was about ready to crawl in bed I get a text from brother Jim. “Cole, after I let Bob off at his car I tried to go down Ohio street and the car died, I think it is the fuel pump.”