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Where do you ride to get away from the insanity of the world,another planet?

2650 Views 39 Replies 19 Participants Last post by  -Nate
Hi,i will create a sci-fi photo of you and your bike on another planet and post it here so you can copy it..i will make it large wallpaper size..post your photo here,make sure (both your bike tires) are in the photo.if your photo works in my computer with no problems,i will do the photo creation...example -- me and my bike below
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My airplane sinks when I turn the engine off.
Hope you don't have the same problem.
You never heard of a sailplane?
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You never heard of a sailplane?
Yep...Mother Nature turns the engine off when the sun goes down.
Same deal.

BTW...We have a saying...
"If at 1st you don't succeed...Don't be a glider pilot"
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I鈥檓 not heading anywhere in particular when I go for a ride. I鈥檒l usually I will find myself by the water at some point. Typically I just ride. If I decide I wanna turn the last number of the next oncoming Licence plate decides which way. Odd - left. Even - right. If someone throws me a letter I just keep goin straight.

I have no idea where I am going and half the time don鈥檛 know where I am. It is perfect.
That's pretty much the same for me . Could be 5 feet or 50 miles , mox nix . ;)
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My last crossing of Hecate Straight in the sail boat, was anything but peaceful and quiet.

Rode around my Island today. Sunshine and dry roads. Think I will do it again.
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What a great thread .

I find the initial picture to be nice .

I too like to head off to who knows where , I'd hoped to be doing much more of that in my retirement but things have a way of working out differently than one expects .

All roads lead to the same place, some just take longer than others .

Thanx to one of you I'm off to go watch Chihuahua videos .
Up Island. Coffee shop. Liquor store. Vehicle registration place. Grocery store.
Recycle place open today but I did not stop. Ride to the big island tomorrow, to buy Tukvan parts.
Bolted Inder the sidecar on to Yami, to carry the extra stuff.
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I like to use a rack on the back of my bikes to carry stuff, after years of searching I found a rusty and broken rack for my CB125S in England it looks terrible and needs welding and re chroming but if it works it'll be worth the effort .

Of course, my local good chrome shop closed during the covid mess and the owner is ancient, he may have just thrown in the towel, my welder guy is also closing up shop soon .
Last summer I simply rode big circles in my local three county area, because I was never completely confident that Bike would keep running and wanted to be within a reasonable distance if I had to call my brother or a friend to come get us. I never rode with a plan, just wandered around taking random roads. Sometimes I'd end up on gravel doing that, and Bike was always grumpy when that happened. But just the wandering and the motion and the noise helped me find peace for a bit and Bike never did actually strand me. The one time he quit I was only 100 yards from home so I just walked him home. Yep, riding is therapy. Now that I have New Bike I'm anxious to get back on the road and venture further afield, and hopefully he won't be grumpy about gravel. I'm thinking that riding across the Mackinac Bridge would be cool, so I guess that's my goal for this year.
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That's what Nash Motor Co. in the 1050's called "Prudent Motoring" .

I still practice it, I can't push even my CT90 very far but whatever .

Today I went bonkers and hopped on my 1984 Brazilian Honda CB125S (e) and headed to Harbor City via the busy 110 freeways .

This was arguably madness but I've done it many times before and still enjoy it .

Yes, Motocycling is therapeutic but not all therapy is relaxing .

Riding anywhere helps keep your mind sharp, like flying an aircraft you must needs be aware of and keep track of multiple things simultaneously and be able to perceive dangers -before- they're too close to avoid and so on .
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I still practice it, I can't push even my CT90 very far but whatever .
Hah! Try pushing a Goldwing.
I think I'd get about three feet.
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If I worked in a shop you would learn to manhandle these big bikes. It鈥檚 all about balance point. Keep it there and you can push them all day long on flat ground and short inclines.
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I escape all the horrors, frustrations and angst of the world anywhere I am, any time I want, by turning off computer, telephone, TV and radio... and minding my own business.
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As the man says, one gets accustomed to the tipping point very quickly .

When I was working for Merkel's Cycle Salvage I had to push out and back in close to 100 bikes every day, I mostly straddled the front wheel and faced the bike, easier to control that way .

This was before the advent on the Gold Wing .
If I worked in a shop you would learn to manhandle these big bikes. It鈥檚 all about balance point. Keep it there and you can push them all day long on flat ground and short inclines.
Let me get this straight, Hog.
If "YOU" worked in a shop, "I" would learn to manhandle these big bikes.
I'm trying to figure out how that would work.
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Brute force of course .

BT, DT, they didn't make that mistake twice .
Let me get this straight, Hog.
If "YOU" worked in a shop, "I" would learn to manhandle these big bikes.
I'm trying to figure out how that would work.
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Yea, I saw that a little later and decided everyone has already seen it anyway so why change it. Besides, everyone knows my fingers do stupid stuff on the keyboard.
At least no one was watching the most recent time I did stupid stuff out in pubic......
Where? Excellent question. Has anyone found it yet?
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God I hope not .

The guy who last had the pictures and film went off the deep end of the crazy dock in the 1990's when I snorted far too much cocaine .

I don't even know if he's still alive .

The last time I ran him down to reminisce about the old days he flipped out about his fat ex girlfriend whom everyone other than me had a turn with, in 1973 .

At that juncture I gave up trying to talk to him .

If they ever show up I'll have a red face like a tomato .

Where ? out in the Desert East of San Bernadino, Ca. .
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