What the hell was I thinking?

After my motorcycle crash this summer a lot of people thought I would give up riding. . .God only knows where they got that idea.

So when I found this article I thought it was something I had to post. Unfortunately I don't know the source but it does have the author's name.

STU

What the Hell Am I Doing?
by J.D. Tuccille
There's nothing like the feeling of a motorcycle sliding out from beneath you on a busy thoroughfare to focus the mind beautifully on the value of life. As your ass bounces from the cushioned seat toward the hard tarmac with the screech of unseen cars slamming on their brakes to your rear, you have one glorious moment in which to ask yourself: "What the hell am I doing?"
You see, that's the precise question that flashed through my mind as my accelerating rear wheel spun helplessly on an oil slick and 400lbs of Japanese machinery cushioned its fall with 170lbs of J.D. Tuccille.
My left elbow slammed against the asphalt before I had time to consider the answer.
But to a large extent, it's the question itself that matters the most: "What the hell am I doing?" Sooner or later most of us ask that same question. We ask it when we're doing something foolish, or brave, or unfamiliar, and we especially ask it when the situation goes sour -- when we find ourselves airborne in late-morning traffic. And if we don't ask it of ourselves, somebody else is sure to do us the favor: "What the hell are you doing?"
The question means that we're taking risks, trying something new, or just pushing the boundaries of our usual behavior. It means that we're living, not just existing; to pass through life without facing that question would imply a tightly constrained existence lacking risk and adventure.
Not every situation that provokes the question is to our credit, of course. Sometimes we've made a mistake, sometimes we've embarrassed ourselves, and sometimes we've made a complete balls-up of a situation and we find ourselves staring up from the ground into the face of an Emergency Medical Technician. And whether we decide that our latest venture was a moment of glory or shame, it's a sure bet that somebody else views our decision with disdain; we all have our own lives, and our own very different standards by which to judge them.
But it's important to remember that while everybody has the right to ask the question of himself and others, only the person on the spot, the person living that moment has the right to offer a binding answer. And that is what gives life so much of its value. We have the right to try, to risk dignity and even death as we take the basic fact of existence and mold it into a life worthy of the name through a personal choice of experiences, occupations, and adventures.
So when others try to answer the question for us, to prevent us from taking the risk because they don't approve, they don't just do us a disservice -- they rob us of the freedom that gives life its value. Through laws and taxes and regulations they try to consign us to an existence instead of a life; and this is not because the decisions they would make for us are necessarily bad decisions, but because they are not our own.
Some people -- not enough -- do understand this. After the accident, when the EMTs had assured themselves that my limbs were all in place and that I remembered my name, one turned to me and said: "And now for the important question: How's the bike?" As an EMT he had certainly seen his share of nasty motorcycle accidents -- incidents that ended with consequences more serious than my broken arm. But he understood, or at least respected, my decision to ride and to take risks that others find unacceptable.
We have the right to demand that attitude of everybody: disagree with us, call us fools, live your own lives differently, but don't try to tell us what decisions we may make in the conduct of our lives. Because the value of life is determined not by the mere drawing of one breath after another, but by the freedom to make our own decisions; to mold our lives as best we can into a shape that pleases us, and to enjoy the benefits or suffer the consequences.
What the hell was I doing? I was living my life. Now hand me my helmet or get out of the way.

Weekend Riding

So last weekend Lindsey and I decided that we were going to hop on the motorbike and go hit the mountains for some camping. Funny how things don't necessarily work out quite the way you plan them.

Thursday and Friday were a bit of a panic for me in that I had a whole boatload of work to do to get the bike ready for the trip. Friday night also was a bit of a panic because it included packing for the trip. Now saddlebags can't carry everything you want them to but they can carry everything you need them too, especially if you help them out by loading stuff on the luggage rack. We each took a saddlebag for our clothing (and of course Lindsey took a little of mine for her stuff as well) and we put the tent and sleeping bags (cunningly placed in a dry bag from MEC) on the luggage rack. I also have a little bag behind my windshield to carry some misc. tools and other items.

Saturday morning was a little overcast but we put on the leathers, hopped on the bike and off we went. About half an hour outside of Edmonton it was looking pretty rough so we stopped and put the rain gear on, it's always better to put your rain gear on and not need it than it is to try and discover how quickly you can get it on while being rained on.

Sure enough, moments after we got the rain gear on the rain started. . . and that pretty much set the tone for the rest of the weekend.

The rain was cold. Really freakin' cold so despite our plan to try and make it to Penticton we decided that it was a better idea to fend of hypothermia, a cup of coffee (for Lindsey) and hot chocolate (For me) at the Tim Hortons in Edson was enough to do this for us and we continued on to Jasper.

We were expecting to see some of the wonderful wildlife that the road into Jasper is known for, they however were far too intelligent to be out in such heinous weather.

Jasper was a nice stop for lunch and some more hot coffee/hot chocolate and then we were back on the bike again and heading into BC.

The one thing you can say for this trip is that we had some wonderfully consistant weather. . . as a result Blue River seemed like a good place to spend the night. While we had been hoping for Penticton the combination of slow travel in the rain and the cold that was soaking into us convinced us to call a halt to our travels in wonderful Blue River.

I will say that if ever you're looking for a place to stay in Blue River the Blue River motel is tiny, clean, and well priced. It's a little tucked back into the town but if you ask at the Esso they can point you and it's definitely some place i would stay again.

So 570km later day one came to an end.

Funny Story

I love this story so I thought I would share.

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Race with a Harley

I raced a Harley today and after some really hard riding I managed
to PASS the guy. I was riding on one of those really, really
twisting sections of mountain road with no straight sections to
speak of and where most of the bends have warning signs that
say "MAX SPEED 50 KPH".

I knew if I was going to pass one of those monsters with those
big-cubic-inch motors, it would have to be a place like this where
handling and rider skill are more important than horsepower alone.

I saw the guy up ahead as I exited one of the turns and knew I could
catch him, but it wouldn't be easy. I concentrated on my braking and
cornering. Three corners later, I was on his mudguard. Catching him
was one thing; passing him would prove to be another.

Two corners later, I pulled up next to him as we sailed down the
mountain. I think he was shocked to see me next to him, as I nearly
got by him before he could recover. Next corner, same thing. I'd
manage to pull up next to him as we started to enter the corners but
when we came out he'd get on the throttle and out-power me. His
horsepower was almost too much to overcome, but this only made me
more determined than ever.

My only hope was to out-brake him. I held off squeezing the lever
until the last instant. I kept my nerve while he lost his. In an
instant I was by him. Corner after corner, I could hear the roar of
his engine as he struggled to keep up. Three more miles to go before
the road straightens out and he would pass me for good.

But now I was in the lead and he would no longer hold me back. I
stretched out my lead and by the time we reached the bottom of the
canyon, he was more than a full corner behind. I could no longer see
him in my rear-view mirror.

Once the road did straighten out, it seemed like it took miles
before he passed me, but it was probably just a few hundred yards. I
was no match for that kind of horsepower, but it was done. In the
tightest section of road, where bravery and skill count for more
than horsepower and deep pockets, I had passed him. Though it was
not easy, I had won the race to the bottom of the mountain and I had
preserved the proud tradition of one of the best bits of Brit iron.

I will always remember that moment. I don't think I've ever pedaled
so hard in my life. And, some of the credit must go to Raleigh
cycles, as well. They really make a great bicycle...

Till Next We Meet. . .

Talking Heads

I had a thought that perhaps since I put up my mother's Eulogy I should also put up the speech I delivered at my brother's wedding on the 28th. Here it is for anyone who's curious, it got a few laughs in the right places so I think it went pretty well.

Ladies and Gentlemen . . . and Gord:

I would like to start by introducing myself; as the more perceptive among you may have deduced from my current attire and my earlier duties I am the Best Man. More specifically I’m Craig’s older brother Stuart.

When Craig asked me to be his best man I did my best to duck out of the duty, as those of you who know me are aware I very much dislike giving speeches and being the centre of attention, even for a brief time. However he persisted and how could I refuse him, my brother, and the person who has been my best friend since before he was born?

Now, I'm sure a number of the fellows here today have been a best man at a wedding before, but I wonder how many of you have ever received written guidelines from the bride to be? Before I go any further, I'd like to explain that two weeks ago I received this email from Nina:

I was very pleased when Craig asked you to be best man at our wedding. I knew that by selecting you, he had made the right decision. But, as we get close to the day itself, I'm sure you appreciate the stress that we are both under. And adding to this, there are two aspects of the day that cause me concern - your speech and your conduct. I appreciate that as best man you are required to write a speech that pokes a certain amount of fun at the groom, with stories and jokes about his past exploits. But I do want you to remember that this is our wedding day, and I don't want something that you might say or do to spoil it. I would ask that you also keep a very close check on Craig as well. With this in mind, please take note of the following and I’m sure we’ll all have a wonderful day:

Remember at all times that my family is there.
Remember at all times that your family is there.
So do not get drunk.
Do not swear
Do not tell rude jokes
Do not use bad language.
Do not use your fingers when eating.
Do not take food from anybody else’s plate.
Do not sing.
Do not pick your nose.
Do not leer at women with low cut tops.
Do not belch.
Do not harass the bridesmaids.
Do not steal anything.
But most importantly of all, do not let Craig do any of the above.

So with that in mind I stand here before all of you somewhat at a loss as to what to say so I’ll keep it simple. Throughout his life Craig has been surrounded by people, some for a long time and some for a short time. I can say in all honesty that in the past three years I have seen Craig smile more, laugh more, and generally enjoy life more than ever before and I feel that there is no cause other than the beautiful woman who has so recently become my sister-in-law.

James C. Dobson once said

Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without.

And in Nina Craig has found this person.

So I say

Nina, you’ve done good. Craig, you’ve done better.

So I ask you all now to raise your glasses in a toast to the Groom.

To the Groom!

Eulogy

It was my mother's service today so I thought I would post the eulogy that I presented.

In a little more than a week I will, for the first time, celebrate a birthday without my mother. This is because the person who brought me in to this world, loved me, taught me, cherished me, and occasionally scolded me passed away on July 13^th after a long battle with Cancer.

It has been said that the loss of a parent is one of life's most traumatic events. I now know the devastating truth of that statement. I've been told that, in time, the hurt will fade, only to be replaced by positive memories that soothe the soul. Already, I can feel that happening and I hope too that you can as well.

Born to Joe and Emma Alder and with an older Sister, Jean, on February 15, 1946 Carole Ann Alder began life. From all reports it was a life of fistfights, adventures, and some hardships, all of which helped to shape her into the competent, determined woman that we all knew.

When she was 14 her mother passed away after a long battle with MS and at the age of 21 she hopped on a boat and found herself here in Canada. As is typical with my mother she made her first new friend in the country before she had even arrived, this person of course being Hazel.

That Halloween at a party her friend Hazel was kind enough to accidentally introduce herself, and shortly thereafter my mother, to a young man in a most affectionate manner. That young man went on to marry her in 1969 As I’m sure many of you present remember. How could you forget someone who wears a mini-skirt as her wedding dress?

8.5 years later I arrived on the scene and by all reports I was a child of miraculous grace and beauty. . . not to mention my many other positive features. Three years and four days later my brother also graced this earth, and in both cases I’ve been told that my mother could not have been happier or more proud.

A few short years after my brother’s birth my maternal grandfather passed away, depriving my mother of both her parents. Fortunately she had found herself adopted into the Hunter clan many years before and her close relationship with her in-laws helped her through this difficult time.

Throughout her life my mother held a number of jobs but the longest and certainly most recent was with the Edmonton Public Libraries. She started there as a temporary float, moving from location to location as she was needed and eventually worked her way into a permanent position where she remained until moving onto disability two years ago. Though her years at the Library my mother made many friends, quite a few of whom were able to make it here today, something for which we are very appreciative.

Over the past two years and throughout this entire struggle my mother always maintained a positive outlook, and an attitude of optimism and determination. With the help of many of the friends and family gathered here today she was able to maintain an excellent quality of life and remain at home for as long as possible.

Finally on July 13^th my mother passed from our lives and into God’s care where we know she has found peace and an end to her suffering.

So I would like to take this opportunity to say “Thanks Mom, we’ll love you always, and think of you often”

Till Next We Meet. . .

Quite the Ride

Well, the last couple of weeks have been nothing short of insane. With the wedding coming up we had guests in from out of town including Scotland and a couple from the US so the house has been packed. This of course makes for a very busy time because these people are on vacation and want to see the sights . . . and guess who gets to take them. Now between the whole family I think they got a pretty good exposure but of course it's tough. Fun but tough.

The wedding?

It rocked. Things went beautifully, the weather was great (bloody hot) and everything was wonderful. There was a small hitch at the reception with a lack of A/C but most of us were used to the heat by then and I just don't think we cared that much. After enough alcohol it stops mattering how hot it is.

Other things?

I returned to the gym this week. I've been there off and on for the last while with distinctly more off than on but at least I've been doing something. This week however I found that I wanted to be back in the gym, finally I wasn't looking for excuses to get out of the workout early. I wasn't wasting my time talking to people only to discover that I was "out of time" and needed to get out of the gym. Rather I was in there with a joy to be there and a determination to work hard. Neither of my workouts this week were the best I've had but they weren't the worst either and that's a start.

Till next we meet . . .

Fast Update

Sorry I've not kept you all up to speed but things have been a little busy lately.

After her two year battle my mother passed away on Friday the 13th. She'll be sorely missed but it was time and it's all for the best at this stage.

An hour and a half later I crashed my motorcycle. There was no-one else involved it was strictly a case of me riding when I shouldn't have been and not paying attention when I should have been. Went down in a lowside, fortunately there wasn't a lot of damage to the bike and I had her back up and running a week later.

The delay was to let me get over my road rash enough to work on her and ride again. The road rash wasn't bad and about what I would expect from hitting asphalt at 60kph in a t-shirt and jeans. . . oh well.

Till next we meet. . .