But You and I We've Been Through That

And this is not our fate

But let us not talk softly now

The hours getting late

Sorry Bob, I like Jimie's version better.  I hope that's the right words.  Whadda ya think Terry?  Oh why am I asking you, you didn't even get the words to New York State of Mind right.


Anyhoo, that's one of the songs on my play list that keep me entertained during my gym time.  I catch a glance at myself every now and then in the mirrors and I'll be dancing.  Not really all out, but you know, just a little shuffle.  I wonder what the other patrons must think about that. 

Speaking of my fellow gym users, pleaseeeee get off the station when you're done.  DON'T sit there and talk with your friend, girlfriend, mother etc.  If you have to have a freaking social hour stand along the wall or better yet go outside.  I got an hour to do my deal here and I hate to wait.  Besides, my workout is so much harder than yours, plus it's more important.

You do that don't ya?  Those of you who use a gym.  Compare your level of workout against the others.  Really?  I'm the only one?  Fortunately for me, in my gym in Beautiful Downtown Havana, I do one of the hardest workouts.  Believe it or not!  It could be because I'm younger than most of the other customers.  Surprised huh?  Didn't think folks that old went to gyms did ya?

Scotland

 

Saturday I pedaled the "Roads of Scotland" while listening to the Drive By Truckers and watching it flood outside my garage.  The OMTP called for an hour and a half on the trainer.  Screw that.  I was watching the clock at 57 minuets.  As soon as I hit an hour I was off.

Sunday

Who likes to talk while they ride?  "I do, I do"

Sunday Cliffy and I did a CX ride in the ANF (again).  We varied the route from last week.  The roads were like riding on carpet in spots but it was sure a good workout.  I've said it before I know, but I love riding in the Forest.  No traffic, nothing but trees.  And of course Cliffy's constant dialog.  I'll admit to a certain amount of hate at around 35 miles.  Not for Cliffy, well maybe a little, but mostly for the soft sand which seemed to only occur on the rollers.

Dog Bone Lake in the ANF

 

 

One of a few hike a bikes due to water

When I got home all I wanted to do was have a beer and take a nap on the porch.  Alas it was not to be.  I was informed that my presence was required at a Prom Committee Meeting.  I can't think of anything more dangerous than taking me to something like that hungry and tired.  The only way it could have been worse is if I'd had that beer.  I didn't think parents had anything to do with the prom.  Since when did this start?  I managed to get through it without opening my mouth and aside from a small rant in the truck on the way home I stayed out of trouble.

Birthday

I reached a personal milestone this week, I became another year older.  Steve A. asked me last night after the ride what I was doing for my birthday.  "You're looking at it" was my reply.  At 57 I'm just glad to still be having birthdays.  And I'm also happy to be able to celebrate it with a ride.

There are many here among us

Who feel that life is but a joke

The 88 Store

The 88 Store Today

 

It sits on Forest Road 88 in the middle of the Ocala National Forest, hence the name.  The first time I went there was in 1969 on my Honda CT 70. 

 

Honda CT 70

I usually had $.50 in the pocket of my jeans which was enough to fill the tank of my little Honda since gas was a whole $.25 a gallon, plus have some left over for a honey bun and a Coke.

 

At that time we called it the Little Old Ladies Store.  It was run by two women who were probably niether old nor ladies.  It was quite the adventure for us to even ride the five miles from our lake house to the store.  Since none of us had a license we worked out a series of trails which brought us so close to the store we only had to ride a short ways on the pavement.  Riding on the road illegally was a big thrill at 13.

I had a friend, Mike, whose parents owned a lake house close to ours, and had inherited an old step through Honda 90 from his older brother.  We pushed and pulled that thing up and down the dirt road behind our lake houses trying to get it to start.  It was never very reliable and was a real hand full in the soft Ocala sand but that just added to the adventure.

We would leave the house in the middle of the morning, head up the dirt road to the store, fill up with gas and junk food, and be gone most of the day.  Unlike today our parents had no idea where we were.  We would spend hours finding trails and exploring that end of the forest.  No maps, no GPS, no cell phones.  Protective gear was limited to tennis shoes, blue jeans, helmet, and a flannel shirt.  We never knew what might be around the next corner whenever we ventured onto new trails.  At 13 that forest seemed bigger than the whole state of Florida.

The World was Much Bigger Then

We eventually upgraded to full size motorcycles, me a 1971 Honda SL 125 (I still have one in my garage) and Mike a SL 70.  I had my restricted license by then which made it legal to ride my bike on the road.  The first place I rode it was to the 88 Store. 

 

My parents, being scared of motorcycles anyway, didn't want me on the pavement, so we still rode as much off road as we could.  But what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them though so we extended our range beyond the 88 Store.  Somewhere along that time I found an old map of the Ocala (which I still have) and we began to explore even further from the house.

Sure we had a few mishaps.  We got lost a lot.  I still have a scar on my leg from the heat shield on that 70.  Mike got hit by a car one day while riding by himself right behind the house.  He lived but it changed his life forever.

 

I did learn to hate Sunday afternoons when we would roll the bike onto the back porch of the lake house and head back to Jacksonville, to school, and my other life.  But there was always the next Friday.

Back to the Present




Different Crowd at the 88 Store and no I have no idea who this is

The 88 Store is still in business.  They have it set up like a small saloon and there's a different crowd that hangs around there now but you can still buy gas and honey buns.

Now adays I do most of my exploring by pedaling, at almost 57 I still like to wander around in the woods.  I have a son who is 16 and every time he leaves the house to go for a ride I ask him if he's got his phone with him, where he's going, and when he'll be back.  I'm not as brave as my parents.

One thing that hasn't changed though is I still don't like Sunday afternoons.

Before I Pedaled

Unfortunately for you big Worm posted a video about a group of guys doing a dual sport trip out west.  I say it's unfortunate because it reminded me of some of my moto trips, so now you're looking at poorly scanned vacation pictures from 14 (?) years ago.  In the Worm's video the group all had matching jackets and ate grilled fish while sipping wine.  We, on the other hand, bought our food at the Jr. store every day on the way out, and ate most of our meals at the Hungry Logger in the evening.

Looking through the photos I am still amazed at how beautiful the Rockies are.  The dirt bike was the perfect vehicle to cover a lot of ground on.  This was back before the days of GPS, when you had to use paper maps, and it took some degree of talent to find your way around.  We did have some sections we had to push up, and we managed to get lost a few times.  We got caught in the snow and the sleet in June.  We lost people and back tracked looking over the edge of the road for a wrecked bike, only to find him zipping down the road later.  Of course we were almost all out of gas by then and the nearest store was already closed.  On one trip, the first day on the trail, one of my com padres broke his leg.  We were such a compassionate bunch we let him ride to the hospital by himself, after starting his bike for him of course.  They splinted him, gave him some pain medicine, and sent him on his way.  I have no idea how he got his bike started in the hospital parking lot but we found him at the cabin that evening, leg propped up, and seriously self medicated.

On another more annual trip, we used to spend five days in the Ocala National Forest, riding dual sport bikes, staying in basically a fish camp, and attending the festivities surrounding the Daytona Supercross.  No wine on this trip either, unless it had a screw off cap.  Food came from the Salt Springs Grocery and usually consisted of tater logs, rolls, and one night of steak.  The riding wasn't near what it was out west but the campfire stories were just as funny.  By the end of the trip there was a certain amount of hate amongst the group, which is only natural for a bunch of guys together for that long.

I really miss those trips.  Like so many other things in life if you knew it was going to be the last one you'd have savored it a little more.  I'm not in touch with a couple of guys from this group, time and distance has a way of doing that.  I'm the only one who got out of moto entirely although none of them ride as much as we used to.  I do admit watching that video and looking through these pictures awakens the moto part of me I thought I had buried.  I'm thinking about a Honda 250.  I must be crazy.

Jambalayla

I have no idea if that's how you spell it and I'm too lazy to look it up.  What I do know is my lovely wife made an amazing meal of it last Friday night. 

I had ridden Red Bug by myself that evening, it was cold and clear, the way February should be, not like this week.  I ended the ride at Higher Ground and had a few beers with Silk.  We stood out in the parking lot shooting the bull after they ran us out of the shop and I managed to get cold.  I cranked up the heat in the truck on the way back to Beautiful Downtown Havana but never managed to get the chill off.  When I got to the house she had just started cooking so I built a fire in the fireplace (yes I use real wood, not some sissy gas deal), had another beer, and took a hot shower.  The Jambalaya was ready when I got out and it was just spicy enough to make me sweat a little.  Some days are worth living twice.

The Bug

Speaking of Red Bug, I love the new trail.  Thank you to the City of Tallahassee and all the volunteers who worked on it.  It's like having a new toy.

Gorilla Sunday

We did a modified version of the Urban Gorilla ride on Sunday.  I get a little nervous with that many people on the trail, especially people I don't know, but all went well, and it ended up being a good ride.  I certainly had all I wanted by the time we hit the 4 hour mark.

That night went got together to watch the Cyclocross Worlds from Kentucky.  Somewhere in the house some kind of a football game was going on.  We consumed cold protein units and copious amounts of food.  I laughed so hard my ribs hurt the next day.  I really like my new cycling friends.