Where are we at Three AM

I woke up this morning and it was 3:35AM.

At three AM, the thoughts don't race through the mind. They branch out like limbs from a tree. Each branch leaves another thought to think about. Thinking keeps me from sleeping, and the clocks just ticks. Things to do, people to see, places to go.  All these things come to mind at three AM. Putting clothes on, the mind is wide awake.

I was in the month of April while walking between the computer and kitchen... Hopkinton, the Stone house, the Marathon; as the coffee dripped into the pot. In the silence of the morning, I could hear the Stone house around me. Pre dawn before the Marathon. The erie calm before the race. For that  moment, for the fleeting moment in time, you could hear the 1800's on that majestic peaceful property; before planes, cars and traffic. Only the breeze weaving its way through the leaves on the trees could be heard. I was there, enveloped in a warmth of being and calm. Being sheltered from any noise that could be happening at 3AM, I'm back to that moment at the Stone house. The warmth and the calm are here at 3AM.

By 4, I'm making coffee and slicing up an apple. Yesterday the neighbor cut down the old black walnut tree on the property line.  As I finish peeling the apple skins onto a small section of paper towel, I place the apple on a wooden cutting board and think about trees. The knife, forged from fires of great intensity; sitting next to the apple on the cutting board. All surrounded in the Hopkinton silence before the Marathon.

Each year I listen to the squirrels chewing the thick pungent green coating off the black walnuts to  get inside. That will be silent next year. The bat box that hung on the tree drove my curiosity for years, now lies approachable in the neighbors driveway. I know how it got there. Everything comes to an end, but I didn't see it even though, I saw it coming. The noise of the smoky chain saw binding up  every time as the defiant old tree fought its second to last battle against nature. Now, only the decay of the roots will be its last stand. Carbon, carbon steel and forged fires.

Its 5 now, is it the beginning of the end?  The end of the silence or the beginning of the race to meet the end? I wonder, the clock still ticking. Each click another second has passed.

Wake me when September is gone

 Sometimes the images of the past conjure up emotions that cannot be explained. Only in viewing do they touch faint dream state within the confines of the mind. 

Power, sound, a texture of past experiences.

Flames of the devil.

Riding a Velo

As a child my mind would always gravitate to this underground storage area. a Mystical place for the mind to wander. What lurks behind the heavy door and massive stone work?

The week that passed

Its been quite a week that has since passed. The motorcycle season is picking up with shops and side projects become more of the enveloping norm.  The local inspection station is gearing up with 600 stickers which will be gone in the next few weeks. I've  always enjoyed making time for the sticker as the station is one of the local feed points for what is going on. And the best time to go for a sticker is NOT on the weekend. Weekends usually are packed, the best time is a leisure ride into work but stopping by your local inspection station.  If you're riding, then you must have already done the pre-spring check (tires, psi, oils, brakes, chain,...)   

There was also a free moment to get back into Chip's most current engine project.  Another BMW R60/2 for slingers and bearings.  It had been awhile since someone opened this one up.  Other than years of black pitch coating the surfaces, the engine looked to be fine otherwise.  We'll try to get some before and after pictures when it gets put back together.   Only three more pre-1969 engines to get back together currently.

Monkey wanted a more current picture of her on the Hotrod Boxer. So we pulled a few machines out to get to the hotrod. She says its her favorite bike, but I know that isn't true; her all time 'run to' is 'Bubbi' the Ural outfit.  Which was pulled out of the garage to check tire pressure in preparation for a spring full service and shake down. Mum is raring to use Bubbi this year or I will be hung

At the autoshop things are still going, though currently one of the most unique cars in for service is a 1964 Studebaker Avanti.  I've always thought the Avanti was a semi-mythical creature from the glimpses of old car mags and new prints. They were known for a impressive top speed in its day.

 Having a chance to experience one first hand is way cool. I found the bracing in the under carriage to be trick. Yes, all be it a little archaic by modern standards but getting down to see where its been welded by hand and the use of fiberglass for the body gives good insight.  I like seeing how things were done; a how to in construction as it were.

On Saturday a good friend from Vt dropped off his R80 G/S (gelande strasse= woods and street) for a check over and gremlins exorcising.  Hopefully that won't get my mind working on building a custom G/S.  If you are ever given the chance to ride a early G/S  do take the opportunity.  The G/S in a lot of ways makes for the perfect New England machine.  Soaking up potholes, proving its sure footed-ness on dirt roads under construction to surprising people with its ground clearance and leverage.  

In almost three weeks the BIA will be hosting its Spring show and swap meet. Looking forward to it and getting up there for the pre-show festivities.