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Introduction
It's September 2000. The observant among you will notice a distinct lack
of biking stories for well over a year. So, you might ask, what's the
problem? Where are the biking adventures? Did you even have any?
The answer is Yes and No. Sorta. Here's what's been going on. It's not
strictly bike related, but it's part of the ongoing story...
Chaos in America
I moved to the USA three years ago, and there was a motorcycle awaiting
me.
As time went on, Don and I settled into a routine but life was not easy.
Somehow, motorcycling got pushed to one side as we dealt with a series of
fairly major problems, one after the other. Don's bike started to fail,
needing an expensive repair that for various reasons we still
cannot afford to make. We went to Nevada to get married in October 1997
riding two-up on Arnie, the Virago 1000. When we got back, we were tied up
with filing paperwork to become a Legal Permanent Resident of the USA.
Shortly thereafter, I became ill. Don was between contracts and I was
unable to work. I had severe back pains - and by severe, I mean that I
have never before, since childhood, actually cried with pain.
There was no money. Riding was out of the question. I had something nasty
and stomach-like to go with the backache. Life was no fun.
Time progressed and we got increasingly more broke. No insurance. I was
becoming more and more ill. Frightened to get a diagnosis. We scraped
together what was needed to get a chiropractor and I started treatment
there... on Christmas Eve, the pain had gone, after two months of almost
constant backache. I had had tendonitis and a badly misaligned spine. I
still had jaundice.
Things just got worse and worse. I seemed to have no energy. By February,
we had two more major stresses. Don and his landlady had their final
falling out and she pulled her trump card: a perfectly legal but nasty way
of throwing us out of our apartment. At the same time as this, we were
doing an audit. Now we had a
prospect of finding a place in the middle of a tight rental market with no
job.
Our luck changed. Don got a job; days before we were supposed to lose our
home, I found a place that would take us. Don started the job and started
working twelve to fourteen hour days. He would - and still does - come
home at the weekend tired out. No time for holidays or fun or biking
trips. I packed and, aside from moving day, moved us almost
singlehandedly.
I went to see a doctor when the jaundice went away and came back with a
vengeance (I spent my 28th birthday in the bathroom). I had a gallstone
that was blocking my bile duct. Everything was backing into my system. I
attempted and failed the written bike test, and by April had had a minor
operation to remove the gallstone. By the way, there is something rather
amusing
about being wheeled out of the hospital in a chair and then hopping onto a
motorcycle to be taken home...
Work in the Way
I got a job with the chiropractor for six months. I was away from home
more, and Don had to use Arnie to go to work with. It was long past the
time where I had any legal excuse to ride without getting a California
permit, but I was busy working and the buses were convenient.
It was an El Niño year; it rained until May. Hardly great biking
weather...
We did maybe a couple of rides to the coast that summer, and
in August I got my permit at last. We did our Grand Zig-Zag
ride, the last time we went away overnight, and I fell off. I think I lost
something with that fall: my last bit of
confidence. It was as if the not riding for so long had made me afraid to
ride such a big bike, a bike that I just couldn't handle if I dropped.
That was what scared me most (it's not just the technique... I really
cannot physically get the bike off its bum if it falls over...)
Even so, around December 1998, I attended and passed the California
Motorcycle Training Course. It was fun. I got my full licence, only to
find out it would take several months to arrive due to immigration
nonsense... I had a slip of paper in the meanwhile.
1999
The first six months of 1999 were taken up with Little Blue Moon, our new
home. Yes, for the third time I was moving address. The landlord situation
at our rental changed and we didn't like the way the landlords treated us
- they were bullies. We started looking into buying a house. We found out
that houses, starting at $250,000 for a 2-bedroom, 1000 square foot box,
were way out of range and started looking into mobile homes, aka trailers.
Don continued to work long and hard hours; we were
both wrecked for a week in January with vicious 'flu. Max continued to
deteriorate. Arnie developed problems as well from being out in the rain.
All our money and energy went into the new house. It was a struggle to get
it, but we chose to get a small trailer because it was a viable
alternative. Bikers who rent will know that places like condominiums and
townhomes often have biker-unfriendly rules. We were tired of living by
other people's rules. Even the place we were going to be had "Thou shalt
not ride with the engine running in the mobile home park" on its rules,
but we negotiated around that. Our contract does not include it.
We moved again. We settled. There was no cash for bike repairs or long
trips, and the bikes were unfit for long trips. Max has barely been ridden
since last Summer... Then I went in and had the first of two horrible
dental surgeries. Ow, Ow, OW!!!! I was just recovering from it when Tom
Graves of the Wyrd
Project came to visit... and then the summer was done with.
In August, I started working on the Ravensmeet
project. It has taken up all my time, and Don and I have had next to no
time together. I don't want to ride Arnie alone any more, yet the
alternative, to get another Katie or equivalent, was out of our reach.
This all sounds very whiney and miserable, doesn't it? But it's just how
things have been. Sometime along the way I began to understand that life
was guiding me in a certain way, and decided that instead of grumbling
over it I'd just see where the challenge was. I do miss riding, yes, but
it just hasn't worked out. It looks like I'm supposed to start afresh or
something.
In November, I had the whirlwind frenzy of trying to find everything the
INS officer wanted, and then got my green card. That kept me busy, as
well...
2000
The fact that Don had to work at Christmas and New Year set the pace for
the year 2000. The pace has been too fast. And now Arnie was off the road,
with a starter problem.
In February, I had the other half of that surgery. It was worse than the
first lot. It worked - I won't have to have fake teeth - but it was nasty
and took me out for nearly two weeks.
But we've had a few
breakthroughs. We've finally - just a month ago - managed to bring debt
down to a low level. We were able to fix most of Arnie's problems, but Max
remains off the road. We have a van for reliable transport; the Ravensmeet
project is well on its way to completion. It almost feels as if the weight
of the last three years may be sliding somewhat further away. I hope so.
At the time of writing, Don has been off for four weeks with a slipped
disc. That's a lot of pain, too.
I may have to wait until Don retires or goes to a part-time job (when
Ravensmeet/Annwn Web Creations is profitable) before we get in any more
serious travels. I do hope that, before a year is out, I'll have another
Katie and can take up the sport. But I also hope, dear reader, that you
can now understand why I haven't been adding any more adventures of late.
So... go and have a ride for me. Shiny side up, if you please. I want to
go out and get wind and even rain in my hair; it's September, and it looks
like the rainy season has already arrived. I'm ready. But until then,
until it's viable, send me those vibes in a dream. I'll be along in due
course.
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This page created 01 Sep 2000
Last update 30 Apr 2007
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