Monday, June 22, 2009

Motorcycle Riding

My father had a real love for cars and motor cycles which incidentally, is not shared by either my sister or me. He especially loved car rallies. If you have never been on a rally in England you haven’t lived! These were similar to paper chases but often lasted 2 or 3 days and nights and were complex enough that some competitors became so lost and disoriented that search parties were sent out to find them, once the time limit had been exceeded by 12 hours or so. The object was to navigate the smallest roads and back lanes to pick up clues and arrive at the various check-points within the allotted time allowance. The planners made sure you could do this without excessive speed but once a competitor became lost or missed a clue then time had to be made up. This necessitated driving at break-neck speed in the pitch dark on narrow lanes. More than once my father ended up in a river and on one occasion, came face to face with a famer pointing a loaded shotgun at him. Apparently he wasn’t the first to miss a bend in the road landing him in the farmer’s front yard at 3:00am.

As kids we went on some of the day rallies and they were fun. My father would drive and my mother would navigate. Just listening to the pair of them disputing the directions was sport enough.

Motorcycles were his first love, however. On occasion my father would go to a race track with a couple of chums but more often it would be a family outing to a motocross in a field or a hill climb through the woods in some obscure place. Off we would go with a picnic basket, raincoats and wellington boots for a day of ‘excitement’. Once parked we would traipse through the mud, find the best vantage point and watch the bikes and riders as they slid around in the mire. It got old very quickly for me but my father never tired of this activity.

In spite of, or maybe because of this upbringing, I joined the Middle-Age Motorcycle Club back in the 60’s. I was far too young for it, I might add, but a friend lent me a small woods bike and, with minimal instruction I followed the group of 6 or 8 men and women into the woods. It was so much fun although somewhat reckless, now that I look back on it.

One warm, Sunday afternoon the group stopped at our local pub for a cold one after a particularly taxing ride. On leaving the establishment we had to enter a busy road. In turn we lined up on a slight incline and waited for a break in the traffic. When my turn came my inexperience became obvious to all who watched. After stalling on my first two attempts, I saw my opportunity, pulled back on the throttle, popped the clutch and stood my bike on its back wheel! I cleared the road in a wheelie that would have impressed Evil Knievel. Across the road was a gravel parking lot where I landed reasonably unscathed although not on my wheels.

That little exhibition stopped traffic and also brought the inhabitants of the pub running to pick up the pieces. They dusted me off and sent me on my way with only minor damage to the bike but major damage to the ego. Although I didn’t know it at that moment, one of those rescuers was to become my husband of 38 years and counting.

Motorcycles are still not my thing and my helmet has been hung up for a number of years but if I hadn’t thrown my leg over that bike on that day, my man for life might have slipped away.

Monday, June 8, 2009

Back in the Groove

I have been absent from my blog writing for far too long and have no real excuses other than it slipped in my list of priorities. More pressing items had jumped to the top of the list but I am about to correct that.

Helping to set up a new office has taken much of my time over the last couple of months. Now happily ensconced on Main Street in Stowe with my trusty Lily by my side and back up to speed on daily real estate needs, I am ready to write again.

Lily is a one year old Yorkshire terrier barely 6 pounds in weight but with the stamina and tenaciousness of one much larger. She will approach any man or beast with a wiggling body ready to lay kisses all over the poor unsuspecting recipient’s face. Then the wanton little hussy rolls on her back with legs spread wide for a tummy scratch.

Lily gets plenty of exercise running and playing with our other dog, Chief and taking long walks in the woods with us in the mornings. During the day there are quick trips down Main Street to the bank, where she performs her party tricks for biscuits, and to the recreation path for strolls between client appointments. While in the office she naps hard and often goes unnoticed. Quite the perfect little dog!

Those of you who have ever owned or known a terrier also know the mischievous side that they all possess. They can’t help themselves. Very smart and trainable for sure, but only to a point. This week two events have come into Lily’s life that have caused her much consternation.

Some critter it appears, probably a fox, takes his evening walk through the fields and noses around the barn for signs of mice. The scent left behind is so powerful to small terriers, although undetectable to humans, so as to send her into a tizzy of yelping and tracking and no amount of whistling, calling, imploring or the offer of treats makes a blind bit of difference. She is gone! Eventually she comes back of her own accord but this is not acceptable behavior.

The second event is the acquiring of a bunny by the neighbors. They rescued this domesticated version and now keep it in a cage close to their house. Lily discovered it quite by chance and now cannot get it out of her mind. Rabbits are supposed to live in burrows in the ground and terriers were bred to find and remove them.

So now we are faced with a dilemma. How do we give Lily and Chief the freedom to explore our fields and woods but not everyone else’s? Hence the invisible fence. We have had one in place for several years that has always worked well for Chief. So well in fact that most of the time he didn’t have to wear his collar to respect the line. A reminder now and again was all he needed. Lily is so tiny that I have been hesitant to shock that little body even once for fear it will kill her. The vet and the manufacturer have assured me that the smallest collar they make is for dogs her size and shouldn’t harm her. The collar is on order and should arrive any day. Lily’s antics will be curbed sooner or later just as long as my stamina and tenaciousness outlast hers!

I’ll let you know who the winner is just as soon as it has been determined. Don’t hold your breathe!