Women Bikers RULE!

I'd like to call your attention to KT Did's blog and website I found surfing last night, which are both listed in my links list to the right of this page.

Lots of GREAT information here, and an inspiration to all bikers, especially women bikers. And check out the extensive list she has on her blog page, for other women biker links! Woohoo! I'll have weeks of surfing to do now.

As a member of the Tallahassee Chapter of the Chrome Divas, I am involved in quite a bit of charity work in our community. We are not the only women biker organizations who do this, as you'll see from KT Did's website.

Kudos to you, KT Did, for hosting your website and bringing attention to these efforts to the world at large. Until we meet face-to-face, I salute you, sister! Keep the rubber side down and the wind in your face.

Live to ride, ride to live.

Enough is Enough

Tonight I left the house around 7:00 PM and rode southeast around the city to a small town where a new bike night was taking place. The traffic had thinned out enough, and I breezed through most of the traffic lights with no crowding. As I passed a small side street on my right, I saw a small sport bike and rider waiting to turn. I cruised by and nodded as I passed.

A large SUV up ahead of me was changing lanes over and over, and I was concentrating on staying far enough back to give him room to be the inconsiderate driver he was, when out of the blue, the small sport bike I had passed just a mile or so back, passed me at a high rate of speed, at least 65+ in a 45mph zone, on one wheel! Not only did he startle me, but he caused other cars to swerve when he passed them. He continued to travel on his wheelie for another quarter mile or so, before dropping down to scream around a corner and head off in another direction.

Why does this make me angry? Not only did he startle me, he alarmed others with his reckless riding. I know what I was thinking, and I'm sure all the cagers around me were thinking the same thing. I "voiced" my opinion with a one-finger salute, but it's doubtful he saw it. Is it any wonder that cagers dislike Bikers so much?

Now, I personally don't care if he wants to smear himself all over the pavement, but endangering my life and the lives of others driving in the immediate vicinity makes me want to throttle that little jerk. Had he fallen from his little stunt, at any time after passing me, I would have had to take evasive action. Other cagers may have swerved to avoid him and hit me.

I have nothing against any type of bike, including sport bikes. But the irresponsibility of this rider is inexcusable. Speeding is one thing, but speeding in town, in three lanes of traffic, and on a wheelie - are there no brains inside that helmet? How do we expect the public at large to take Bikers seriously and listen to our complaints about ROWV and the death of victimized riders when we they have to contend with this? How do I, as a Biker, explain away such actions?

Enough is enough. If you want to be an idiot on a motorcycle, do it somewhere that doesn't endanger others. Have a little respect, if not for yourself, then for me, and others like me, who want to ride for the enjoyment and who ride responsibly.

Today I'm a bad-ass biker bitch, and God help the little twerp I catch doing that again. Where's my duct tape....

On Riding Bitch

My previous post implied that "riding bitch" is a bad thing. So I feel the need to clarify my point of view. I certainly don't think riding bitch is a bad thing. It's all relative.

The title of this post refers to "riding bitch" not riding a bitch, so get your mind out of the gutter and read on.

What is "riding bitch" exactly? Well, it just means riding as a passenger on a motorcycle. At some point in history, someone came up with the phrase "riding bitch" for this pastime. Perhaps it followed the production of the T-shirt that sported the line, "If you can read this, the bitch fell off". Or perhaps the T-shirt followed the phrase. What came first? The chicken or the egg?

In [alleged] retaliation, another T-shirt appeared on the scene, "If you can read this, this Bitch has her own bike". And the next one, "If you can read this, the Asshole/Bastard fell off". All of which make me laugh, and falls in line with all the other witty sayings bikers create and plaster all over their helmets and sport on their clothes.

I feel certain that these shirts were purchased in large quantities by those who don't like being called a "Bitch", rather than in retaliation for having to "ride bitch". Since I've ridden my own for most of my life, that doesn't apply to me. I do ride bitch on occasion, and by choice. I even enjoy it, but for different reasons.

Now, in general, I don't like being called a bitch, because I'm not. I can be "bitchy" at times, but I am not a bitch, and more importantly, I'm not someone else's "bitch" (except in private, but we won't go there). Riding bitch is just a descriptive phrase. I prefer the phrase "riding pillion", but people look at you like, "huh?".

For myself, I much prefer the witticisms that address cagers who might be reading the stickers on my helmet, or the ones that describe who I am, rather than who I'm not. Such as:

"Guns don't kill people, cell phones do"
"If you're gonna ride my ass, at least pull my hair"
"Bad-ass White Chick"
"Honor the Fallen"
"Love me Love My Tattoos"

You get the picture.

In 2002 I was forced into storing my brand new Dyna Wide Glide just two weeks after selling my previous bike and bringing the new one home. This was my first totally brand new bike, and I picked it up shortly after the shipment delivery day. How well I remember that day too; the excitement and anticipation of breaking it in, and enjoying the rumbling sound of a Harley (yep, I love that Harley sound too, it's hard not to). I didn't ride it home. I preferred to truck it home, and get used to it in short rides, before riding the distance between my home and the dealership where I bought it.

I resisted buying a Harley for years because of the money, and my stubborn belief that they weren't any better than my Hondas. I had sat on Fatboys, Heritage Softtails, and Road kings. They just didn't "grab" me, not enough to justify paying $8k more for a new one. I knew all the jokes; "Are you gonna start that thing?" while sitting with my engine on, riding with a group of Harley owners. And in retaliation, I'd ask, "Is that thing driveway trained?", poking fun at the rumor that all Harleys leak oil. I laughed when my water cooled engine stayed that way, when the Harleys became too hot in traffic. Incidentally, mine has never leaked oil, nor overheated. It does, however, get extremely hot when riding in hot weather, making me consider wearing my English riding pants that have leather patches on the inside of the thighs.

So how'd I end up with a Harley? One day, a friend convinced me to take a closer look at a Dyna (what a silly name for a motorcycle!). I went with him to the local Harley dealer, and I sat on a Dyna. I now describe it as, "I don't sit ON my bike, I sit IN it". It fit me like a glove. Weighing in at about the same as the Honda Sabre I currently had, it was much better balanced and seemed to weight less when pulling it upright off the kickstand. The low center of gravity helped too, and the maneuverability in tight corners far surpassed the Honda. Add to that, the extra torque of the 1450cc over the 1100cc of the Honda, and suddenly, the extra cost was not an issue anymore.

Adding insult to injury, my Honda Sabre was only one year old, but had lost so much value in that one year, I ended up selling it for what I still owed on it (a little more than half the outrageously low price I paid for it). I also could not find after market custom parts for it, and I hated the racing bars it came with. The man who bought it was a reseller who bought up private sales to resell to dealers. He said, "This is one I'm keeping for myself". And well he should. It had a custom two-tone blue flame paint job, and about 400 miles on it. It was a nice bike, but it still wasn't right for me.

Having grown up in the Chopper era, and idolizing Peter Fonda in Easy Rider, the Dyna's buckhorn handle bars and longer rake appealed to me. The same year this model was made by Harley Davidson, a catalog of custom parts were available, as they do every year for all their models. Harley owns the niche for customizing bikes to fit an owner's unique desires in a machine. That's also worth the extra money for a HD motorcycle.

Today, my 5 year old Dyna has $12k in equity, and would probably net me more than that if I sold it. Not many Jap bikes can make that claim.

However, my anticipation of enjoying my new ride was soon to be postponed and riding bitch was my only option for a long, long time. Because of the fickle weather in New England, I rode it only 2 or 3 times between bringing it home in June, and the 4th of July weekend, when everything changed.

Now, I know you're expecting me to tell you I crashed on my bike, but I didn't. Beyond a few minor near misses and a few drops at a standstill, I've never been involved in a crash (knock on wood).

That holiday weekend, I was busy cooking for my daughters and a friend. My home was a charming two-story cabin 600 feet off the main road, out in the woods of Maine. The basement was fully exposed on one side due to the house being built on a slope. As I prepared to lay out food, I decided to take my two dogs down to their kennel runs at the bottom of this hill. The day before, it had rained, but this day was clear and humid. In my bare feet (I hate shoes), with my hand firmly attached to a dog collar on the way down this hill (perhaps 30 feet give or take a few), I slipped and fell.

Yup, I wasn't even running, nor running with scissors.

Out in front went my right leg. Behind and beneath me went my left leg. Down went my butt on top of my ankle, which would have been fine had it been on a flat surface. But since I was traveling down a 45 degree slope, my weight forced my foot up at that angle as I sat on it, and snapped both lower leg bones, just inches above my foot, effectively dislocating my foot at a very alarming angle. Not compound, but damn near.

I heard the break, loud and clear. Upon inspection, and seeing the bottom of my foot facing out to the left when it should be facing down, I immediately started screaming for help. Thank God I had company, or I might have been screaming for help for hours before anyone heard me back off the road so far from other houses.

In all my years of playing hard with extreme sports, I have never broken a limb. I did fracture a few vertebra in my back with no lasting damage, and most of my fingers, in my years of owning horses, but legs and arms? Nope.

What followed was a total "fustercluck" by the ambulance drivers, who first tried to splint my foot, and nearly got my other foot squarely in their face, and then had to call in another rescue team because they were both too small to carry me up the incline to the driveway. (I still refuse to pay the double ambulance charges they hit me up for.) I was cognizant of everything all the way to the hospital, until they drugged me to set the break. I received a temporary splint, in preparation for major surgery on the following Monday (the surgeon was not available until then - small town inconvenience) and a boatload of drugs for the pain.

Then, on Monday, I went back for surgery to repair the damage, still in a stupor from pain killers, and received a metal plate with 4 screws on the left side, and 2 screws for the diagonal break on the right side. Oh, and some wicked looking staples holding it all together, and another temporary cast.

Two weeks later, they removed the temporary cast, and the staples, and applied a new cast. As I looked at my ankle, still swollen, black and blue and pink and ugly with Frankenstein scars on both sides, my thoughts were, oh Lord, will I be able to ride again? How about walking, or walking right? I took picture of it too, to remind me later of my mortality.

Four months later, they took the cast off, but still refused to let me put any weight on it. During those four months and after, I crawled up and down the stairs to my bedroom, on my hands and one foot going up, and my hands and butt going down. Mostly I slept downstairs in my recliner. I now live in one story houses only, with no porch steps either. I'm not taking any chances on another stupid slip.

To top everything off, just weeks after I was allowed to walk on it, I slipped again and almost broke the right one, but instead pulled all the ligaments and tendons, which took longer to heal than the broken left one did!

During my casted days and rehab days following, I went outside and sat on a stool and polished my already clean, brand new Dyna, or worked on my computer. I fell off the porch steps more than once, trying to navigate up and down them with crutches. I did find, however, that those crutches gave me much longer arms when getting after my dogs, LOL. But mostly they were a pain in the arse, and the arm pits.

My right leg grew in strength and size while my left leg atrophied. I was warned that my Achilles tendon would also be frozen in position and would require extensive physical therapy after the cast came off. Boy, they weren't exaggerating. It didn't move any which way without excruciating pain.

I fired my physical therapist, however, after two visits. It went like this: Arrive, struggle in on crutches, sit for 30 minutes waiting, sit on a bed for another 15 minutes waiting, and then watch as the therapist moved my ankle slightly in several ways, asking me, "how does that feel?", each time. Then they put a freezer boot on me (wait 5 minutes for that) and left me for another 15 minutes before sending me home. The bill was $80 each visit, for 5 minutes of interaction with the therapist. Perhaps they earn their pay in other ways, but as far as I was concerned, this was criminal. And since this accident happened during the only six months in my entire life when I didn't have medical insurance, I wasn't gonna pay that kind of money for something I could do myself, and do it better. I was definitely in the wrong business!

I devised my own exercises and stretches and kept track of progress for my visits to see my surgeon. When he finally released me from wearing the walking boot, six months after the accident, I put on my 10 inch-high lace-up work boots and asked to go riding, as a passenger. I was still having moments of extreme pain whenever my foot would move in a way that had not recovered in motion for that angle or direction. Riding [bitch] brought out those movements every time we hit even a small bump on the road. I learned to lift my foot off the peg whenever I could, in anticipation.

I quickly started complaining about comfort too, as riding pillion on a seat made for looks made my butt go numb in the first 20 miles. The back rest was replaced with a taller one. That helped. I rode as often as I could, but watched in wistfulness as others rode MY bike, both before and after I put on the new pipes, knowing that my ankle would probably support me, but should I experience the painful twinges I still had, I might react unfavorably while riding. And I had to admit that there was no way my foot could pull the gear shift lever up, as my bike had no heel-toe shift option. My overall concern was not for me, but for the possible damage I might cause to my brand-spanking new bike. The money I paid for it never entered into the equation.

So ride bitch I did, for 4 years, with only a few solo rides during that time. There were other factors that kept me from riding as much as I wanted over those four years which I won't go into, such as the crappy weather and my workaholic tendencies, but riding bitch does have benefits. Kicking back and relaxing as a passenger while still enjoying the wind in your face is a unique enjoyment; closing your eyes as you lean into a turn and really "feeling" it, seeing things along the way that you never saw before, or simply relying on the driver to keep you safe while enjoying the act of riding. Being close to someone who means a great deal to you makes it all the better too.

On occasion, while watching the driver go through the gears, or navigate a twisty road, I'd still get that overwhelming urge to be back on my own machine, but I was reminded that everything in life has its good points, even riding bitch... er, riding pillion.

For me, and all who ride their own and enjoy riding for all those reasons most solo riders do, it's still a primary choice. And for those out there who only ride pillion, for whatever reason, I know the joys you experience too.

Perhaps I'll make two T-shirts that read, respectively, "If you can read this, I'm riding my own / riding pillion this time, because I wanna, and I can".

However you ride, ride safe, ride free.

Babes, Bitches, and Ol' Ladies

When I was a teenager in the late 60's, my boyfriend affectionately called me his "Ol' Lady", and he was my "Ol' Man". We thought it was cute and signified possessiveness or ownership of one another. The bikers we knew called their women "Ol' Ladies" too, so it was "cool". You never called another woman a bitch, unless you wanted to get into a cat fight. But plenty of things were very "bitchen", which was another word for cool (and one my parents absolutely hated).

My mother laughed at us and thought were just silly teenagers, calling each other "old". At the time I had no concept of what it like to be old, so I, of course, scoffed at her remarks. No one since then has ever called me "Ol Lady", for whatever reason. And now that I'm old-er, I'm not sure I want to be called that.

Now, I'd say I could be called a "bitch" on occasion. I suppose most women could. I can't blame it on PMS anymore at my age, but I still have my moments. I never did figure out what the male equivalent was for men when they have "PMS" moments; bitchy works.

Bitch is not a female word necessarily, though it is derived from the female of the canine species. I have three dogs, one of which is a bitch. The two males are called simply, dogs. But if I were to vehemently say to a man, "You dog!", it wouldn't have the same connotations as calling another woman a bitch. That could start a war. And we won't even go into the cruder words that have no place except perhaps behind closed doors.

"Broad" is another term reserved for women, although not so much these days. Back in the WWI and WWII eras, it was a common term for a woman of lesser "class", with Sinatra and Bogart making it acceptable, or cool. It's a word I don't particularly like for myself. It brings a coarseness to mind and I don't like to think of myself that way.

A "Babe", on the other hand, signifies the young and beautiful, much like the term "fox", also a 60's and 70's term. I don't see myself as that either. Perhaps when I was much younger. But I haven't been called either of those in many years (except by my SO, who is biased anyway).

A "Diva" also has the same flavor as "Babe". Same thing but different.

The really scary part of all this narrative? When I started looking up current slang words, none of these are listed. Some are in a modified form; such as "babelicious" defined as a "hot chick", and "divalicious" defined as "larger than life bitch diva" (go figure that one out!). Bitchen, Fox and Broad are not listed. I already knew Ol' Lady wouldn't be there.

Riding a motorcycle, however, has brought some of these terms back to life, especially being a woman rider. Recently, a computer repair technician came to my house to repair one of my laptops. When I brought him into the house through the garage, he noted my motorcycle parked there.

"I see you're a member of the Chrome Divas", he said, pointing at my license plate frame. "I guess that makes you a bad-ass biker babe?"

"Nope, I'm just a bad-ass mother who rides, and who also happens to be a member of the Chrome Divas", I replied.

I guess I took exception to his forwardness. After all, he was making an assumption based on my gender, and that I ride a motorcycle. I certainly didn't "look" that way, as I was still wearing the sweatpants and baggy T-shirt I wear around the house when I'm working.

I am a bad-ass mother though. I take my job of being a mother very seriously. But riding a motorcycle didn't make me a bad-ass mother. Being a mother did.

I don't consider myself a "Biker Babe" either. Biker Babes are those pretty girls who wear bikinis and pose on big motorcycles like it might give them an orgasm or something. They have more brains in their tits than their heads. Don't get me wrong - I've seen some drop-dead gorgeous women who ride, but they don't pose half nude on their bikes, and can carry on a normal conversation with someone else.

And "Biker Bitch"? Don't even go there. That's a term non-riders give to women who ride. And what I've been called, after striding into a store in my leather chaps, jacket, and jack boots, by whispering patrons who think I can't hear them.

Which brings us to the phrase "riding bitch", or more politely, riding pillion behind someone, something most of us women who ride our own machines avoid like the plague. Unless you're out for a leisurely ride on a comfy dresser, with your legs wrapped around the man in front of you because you do that all the time anyway, "riding bitch" is something you don't do by choice when you own and ride your own machine.

Take for instance, a good friend of mine was recently out late and had too much to drink (name withheld to protect the innocent). Her friends wouldn't let her drive her cage home. A friend was going to take her to pick up her cage the next day but had car trouble, so her friend's husband picked her up on his motorcycle to give her a ride. Not her choice, and I am sure she hid her face all the way across town, and prayed they didn't pull up next to anyone they knew.

I mentioned I might author a blog about "riding bitch" and tell her "story". All in good fun for sure, but I know the thought of having it known she rode "bitch", and on a Honda no less (she rides a HD), was absolutely mortifying. Needless to say, it might happen to me one day, but I surely won't admit it here.

It has long been a stigma that women who ride their own machines "must" be more masculine than feminine, or lesbian, or ugly. And the truth is, women from all walks of life, young and old, straight and gay, tall and short, ride for the same reasons other bikers ride. It doesn't make us Babes or Bitches, or Ol' Ladies. It makes us Bikers. There is no part of the anatomy that makes it easier for men to ride any better than women. It stands to reason that women would want to ride too. Other than the non-riding population, I think most Bikers can see this plain fact.

When I come home, and peel off my chaps and boots, I'm still the same "bad-ass" mother I was before I rode out that morning. And I say "bad-ass" with tongue in cheek, since I'm just like most moms. I work, I pay bills, I clean house, and I worry about my children. Maybe bad-ass means I'm independent and self-sufficient? I like to think so.

Am I a "bad-ass biker bitch"? Well, perhaps not all at the same time, but ya, I suppose I am, if that means I ride my own machine (biker), ride with confidence and self-sufficiency (bad-ass), and have the predisposition to bitch out cagers who try to violate my right of way (bitch). Otherwise I'm just your regular kinda mom, who happens to ride her own motorcycle.

I am woman (babe, bitch, ol' lady, all rolled into one), hear me roar. Lead, follow, or get outa my way, cuz I'll be out riding my bad-ass bitchen Harley...... but I'll be home in time to make dinner.

Man or woman, ride safe, ride free.

There Are No "Good-byes" in Heaven

This post comes hard on the heels of my last post, about the senseless killing due to the negilgent driving habits of America's motorists. It saddens me to hear of these deaths because of how sudden they are, and how so totally unnecessary they are. Loved ones are left bereft with no warning, and the responsible parties walk away with a $75 fine.

But when someone you know passes on from a long illness, it brings on a mixture of feelings; sadness at the loss of someone who means a great deal to you, but also happiness that that person is now free of pain and has gone home to be with God, as in the natural order of things. So it is with a mixture of feelings that I write of the passing of a dear friend, who meant a great deal to many, but meant even more to God.

---

Today, August 26, 2007 at 9:44:20 AM, God took another one of His own. This morning my friend Judy slipped quietly away in peace and comfort. Her husband and family were there with her.

I've written before of Judy's faith, and how she was such an inspiration to me and my own faith (Post of August 9). Right up to the very end, Judy was God's ever faithful servant. It is unknown how many lives Judy touched simply by being stricken with cancer. Perhaps this was God's plan all along.

Judy was an ordinary person of extraordinary grace. She walked in God's light, and He carried her through her long and arduous battle with cancer, as a mother carries her newborn. She was blessed with a husband who loved and cared deeply for her, and kept his promise to see her through it all without faltering.

My heart goes out to her husband, who waited all his life to meet her. They had just 8 short years together. It is a testament of faith that he can go on without her now. I am not totally sure I could, were I in his shoes. To lose someone, that has become so integrated in your life, is a thought I don't wish to contemplate.

Instead one must steadfastly believe that to have such a bond with someone is an incomparable gift from God, not to be taken lightly no matter how few years there were. For to have such a gift between two souls is rare, whether it be two years or 50. Many never see such a gift even once in a lifetime.

And her lovely daughter is blessed with having had such an extraordinary mother, but will miss her like any daughter would any mother. She will be strong, I know. For God would not have taken her mother otherwise.

My prayers are for these two now, for the strength to learn to live in a day-to-day world without Judy. It must now come solely from faith that Judy will be waiting there for them when God decides it's their time to go. And faith is what Judy was all about.

Judy walks with God now. Her time here on earth has come to an end. But God's work lives on through her, in her family left behind, and in the multitude of people whose lives she touched irrevocably, including mine.

Judy didn't raise millions in charity work. She wasn't a preacher, nor a missionary. Judy was a wife, a mother, and an unfailing servant of God. Judy was stricken with cancer, and fought a long, hard battle. And she was truly blessed.

I smile to think of the radiant look on her face as she placed her hand in God's and left her earthly body behind.

"I am the Resurrection, and the Life: he that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die. (John 11:25,26)

A Declaration of War

The quoted excerpt below is from a post by MADD Ray Henke of Bruce-n-Ray's Biker Forum. Although Ray posted 6 days ago, I finally have time to post my own comments on this very noteworthy addition to the B&R forum.

MADD Ray's post is long, and in two parts. It is full of terminology born of Ray's profession as a lawyer. It is, however, a very good use of your time to read it in full and wade through Ray's wordy, but intelligent, narrative.

Many of us, as bikers, wish for the end to fatalities as a result of motorist "inattentiveness" and this forum has been hosting a current discussion on "cell phone impaired drivers" and how to get them to "Hang Up and Drive". This is one biker (me) who is grateful for the time and effort put forth by MADD Ray in using his professional knowledge to further this goal, and with a pretty damn good likelihood of success.

MADD Ray's proposed actions target the source of big business and big dollars, which we all know carries a considerable amount of weight in forcing legislative action to correct crimes against humanity that so far have been avoided by our lawmakers because of the human trait termed "selfishness". Participants of this forum have tossed about ideas in response to the "How Do We Get Cagers [drivers] to Hang Up and Drive?" thread.

Most of the posted ideas are born of frustration and [justifiable] anger in looking for an end to the "Killing Fields", as described by RC, where he has listed the most current senseless killings that go unpunished by this country's lack of adequate laws, and the selfishness of the majority of motorists. (Warning: Reading RC's Blog may instill righteous anger at the epidemic that threatens the lives of EVERYONE, every day!)

And though MADD Ray's future endeavors may provide justice to those who are maimed and/or killed senselessly, it is still a very sad fact that people must lose quality of life, livelihood, and even life itself, for our country to "Wake up, Hang up, and Drive".

So, if I've peaked your curiosity, please read the excerpt below, and then click on the links to the full narrative as written by MADD Ray.

But don't stop there. If you blog, add a link to it on your own blog page. Add this blog to your Technorati Favorites, email this blog to your biker and non-biker friends, or perhaps that person you know who is a "die-hard" cell phone user while driving. If you use your cell phone while driving, open your own mind to the information here. It's accurate, it's alarming, and it's a warning you need to pay attention to.... because The War Has Begun.

"Employers, take notice, if you encourage your employees to use the phone for business purposes while driving, and one of your employees injures or kills a motorcyclist, bicyclist, pedestrian or other motorist, while in cell phone business conversation, we will hold you liable. Indeed, if you fail to adopt and enforce written policies prohibiting employee cell phone use while driving in the course and scope of their employment, we will hold you liable. Beware: You may also be held liable for punitive damages if your conduct was malicious under state law, e.g., in reckless or conscious disregard of the lives or safety of others.

"Cell phone companies, take notice, if you engage in public relations campaigns to mislead the public that cell phone use or hands-free cell phone use while driving is safe, you will be held liable for resulting consumer and third party injury and death. If you fail to warn your consumers, or fail to do so by means calculated to bring to the attention of your consumers that handheld and hands-free cell phone use while driving results in DUI level driving impairment and a 4 fold increased likelihood that the driver will cause an accident, you will be held liable. And, beware: If your conduct is determined to be malicious, in reckless or conscious disregard of the lives and safety of others, then again you may be held liable for exemplary damages.

"Motorists, take notice, if you drive your vehicle while under the influence of a cell phone, and you maim or kill a motorcyclist, bicyclist, pedestrian or another auto driver, you will be held liable. If you received notice from your cell phone company of the dangers of driving under the influence of your cell phone, in the warnings accompanying your phone when you originally purchased it, or in warnings attached to bills or other communications from your cell company, then if you continue to driver impaired, in conscious disregard of the health or safety of others, you too may be liable for punitive damages.

This is a Declaration of War."

Original Posts by MADD Ray Henke, August 20, 2007
First Post: Part 1 - Preamble
Second Post: Part 2 - Strategy

If you want to contribute to this cause, you can. It does not require any action on your part. Actually it requires an "inaction". Are you willing to prevent the senseless loss of life?

STOP USING YOUR CELL PHONE WHILE OPERATING A MOTOR VEHICLE.

This message brought to you by "Corporal Sam", a soldier in the ranks of an army of freedom fighters everywhere - fighting for the freedom to ride, and the freedom to live.

"A good solution applied with vigor now is better than a perfect solution applied ten minutes later.” GENERAL GEORGE S. PATTON, JR.

The Beauty of It All

So back to why I started this blog in the first place, good ol' hoppin' on the iron horse and riding into the sunset. Well sort of.

As today was winding down, the skies were deep blue and clear, and the call to ride was irresistible. You see, I am either hopping on a plane to fly somewhere, or glued to my computer fighting fires (not literally, but close). My job is demanding but it satisfies an itch to stay busier than I really have time for. Some days it's slow, most days it's hotter than a tin roof, and in Florida, that's really hot.

Sitting in my office, working away, the hours pass by so quickly sometimes, I often miss the sunset. Or it takes a flash of lightning and the boom of thunder as a squall passes over, to remind me to take a break.

But today, even with the temperature hovering in the high 90's, I needed to ride. As the day passed, I couldn't help but look out the window often, seeing the sunshine and hearing the critters chattering away.

So around 6:00 I headed out to the garage and saddled up for a ride down to the local Hooters for bike night. Normally, I'd just head straight for Hooters, but this time I needed a longer ride, so I took an extra long route. After living here for nearly 6 months, I've found all the wonderful roads that get you from here to there without using the main and frequently traveled roads. Some are twisty with lots of leaning curves, and some are quiet residential drives with sleepy 1960's houses and overgrown trees that dapple the streets with shade.

I don't need speed or loud pipes to enjoy my ride. I just need to ride. That isn't to say my pipes aren't loud. They're not stock pipes, but they aren't obnoxious either. I can purr through quiet areas without being disturbing, and I can roar through the gears on a straight-away if I need to. People smile and wave, kids stop and stare, and I just smile a lot. Life is good.

Today, as I pulled up to a stop light, the lane next to me was vacant until a large delivery van pulled up. The sun beat down on me with intense heat, stopped as I was with no wind to cool me down. I looked over at the driver of the truck and smiled, and he smiled at me. Then he inched forward until I was shaded by his truck. In this day and age where we are constantly looking for cell phone impaired drivers and inconsiderate people who are in a hurry to get somewhere, this was a small but kind thing to do, and it made me smile and remember that not all people, and certainly not all drivers, are oblivious to motorcyclists.

Arriving at Hooters is always interesting. I never know if I'm going to find a place to park easily, or if I have to stop and wait for a group of sport bikes to shoot out of the parking lot like they are on their way to a fire. Nevertheless, I am patient. They are just having fun, albeit in a different way than I do.

Today I pulled right in and backed my bike into a slot right up front. I had to wonder why there weren't more people there, as it was such superb weather. I've seen this place so packed before that you had to inch your way through the bikes and people filling the parking area 3-4 bikes deep, around all perimeters.

I love the variety of bikes you find there, and the same variety of folks who ride them. Some are the grisly old bikers who grow their beards so long they tie them in bands to keep them from blowing up in their faces. Some are women like me, riding in on all manner of machines to rival anyone else's. Some look like they just came from work in their khakis and button down shirts. Everyone comes for various reasons; to eat, to mingle, or just to relax among others who enjoy the world and lifestyle of motorcycling.

On any given bike night at Hooters, you'll find bikes that sport thousands of dollars in chrome accessories and are a sight to behold (and you know that person has more money than they know what to do with, or they're stone cold broke). Some bikes are stock right off the show room floor, and others are old vintage models you just don't see that often anymore. From sport bikes, to Japanese makes, to Harleys, they all come.

And oh, the sounds! Nearly every bike has it's own unique rumble. Sometimes you can tell what they are by the way they sound. Before I knew anyone, I would sit at a table outside and just soak up the sights and sounds, content to just be there. Sometimes I still do just that.

What I always see, without fail, is a camaraderie and fellowship amongst them all. I have yet to see voices raised in anger, or drunken behavior. I hear a great amount of laughter, and talk among groups at tables. I see many of the same faces, and always new faces. Young, old, couples, singles, all races, both genders.

It still surprises me to see so many women ride in on their own machines. I remember when it was rare to see a woman riding solo on anything much bigger than a Sportster, or a small foreign make. And that's if you saw any women riders at all. I guess women caught on. Riding behind can be fun, but riding your own is unmatched. Now even small women come riding in on a 1450cc something or other. Women riders are here, and they're here to stay.

Tonight I sat and enjoyed the company of RC (Big Bend Bikers For Freedom). We had ridden on the same rides before, but never conversed. Knowing RC largely through email and blogging, I was not surprised to find the same warmth and wit I had come to know through my computer. I am here to say that I can see no lasting evidence of harm done by RC's penchant for sticking his tongue on 9-volt batteries as a hobby.

As always, it was an enjoyable break from the weekly routine. But leaving to head home can be nearly as good or better than the ride in. The night is cooler, and the ride is peaceful. Again, I took a longer route, riding nearly an hour to go the 20 miles to my home. The night air felt like walking into an air-conditioned room after being out in the sun all day. Fewer cars are out, and the twisty roads are exhilarating. It's a time when I can commune with God, and feel the restful peace that riding can bring.

I could have ridden another hour easily, but I knew my daughter would worry about me, so I headed for the garage, and then to bed. What a lovely end to a gorgeous day of sunshine and cool night air on my bike. If I didn't already know I'd made a great move coming here, I would surely know it now.

In spite of all the outcry over "inattentive" drivers and the risk to my well-being every time I ride, I am still reminded of why I ride, every time I fire it up and take off. Likewise, it is why I will do whatever it takes to keep the freedom to ride, how I want, when I want, and wherever I want, in relative safety.

Live to ride, ride to live. Never compromise either.

Educate Yourself

Whether you ride or not, you should be aware of the rumblings afoot (no, not the sweet rumble of a fine sounding motorcycle). Check out Bruce-n-Ray's Biker forum for a lively discussion on the use of cell phones while driving. If you see something that sparks your interest, post a reply to it.

Why Not? Everyone Else Does

Recently posted on Bruce-n-Ray's Biker Forum, the following article has once again prompted me to "anal-ize" people who still use cell phones while they drive, even when the law states you cannot use one without a headset (like that makes much of a difference - but hey, it's better than nothing, or is it?).

I've added my comments after the article.

This article was originally posted here.

Have you put down the cell phone? Neither have we

Chicago's ban on the use of handheld cell phones while driving hasn't deterred people from ditching the Bluetooth and going back to breaking the law. The problem? According to drivers, police aren't enforcing it enough

August 13, 2007
BY MONIFA THOMAS Staff Reporter

When the city banned the use of handheld cell phones while driving two years ago, Chicagoans rushed out to buy trendy Bluetooth phones and other hands-free devices.

I remember being one of them.

But some time between then and now, I lost the headset and never bothered to replace it.

There didn't seem to be a point, when almost every other driver on the road had gone back to gabbing on the phone without making the slightest attempt to hide it.

Aren't Chicago Police supposed to be handing out $50 tickets?

Apparently, they have been, but not too often.

Chicago Police say they've issued about 8,500 citations this year to drivers caught violating the cell phone ban. Last year, police wrote 13,400 tickets, or roughly 37 a day for phone violations.

By comparison, 2.8 million parking tickets were issued in 2006.

Chicago Police Sgt. Thomas West, of the traffic enforcement division, said, "We write our share of cell phone tickets."

But West Side resident Ernestine Funches disagrees.

"I've seen police who see you on the phone and don't do anything," she said. "People don't have any respect for [the ban] because police don't enforce it."

"I think they should," Funches added, "because I know how distracted I get when I'm on the phone."

George Summer, of Edgewater, would also like to see stricter enforcement of the ban but says police have bigger priorities.

"If they had nothing better to do, they could search for that. But I'd be disappointed if that was their single focus," Summer said.

An independent study on the effectiveness of New York's cell phone ban found that people changed their habits for a few months after the ordinance was passed in 2001 but then were back to their old ways three years later. Researchers at the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety said people weren't obeying the law because it wasn't well-publicized.

Here in Chicago, people seem to be perfectly aware of the rule against cell phones. They just don't think it applies to them.

"I don't have a problem concentrating," said Don Ambrose, who admits to flouting the ban on a near-daily basis. "And even with a headset, you're still having a conversation. It would still be a distraction."

Asked whether he thought the ban had made a difference, West said: "Drive around the city, take a look around and tell me what you think."


The first word that comes to mind here is "denial". That wonderful state of mind people conveniently use when something doesn't suit them. I do it all the time, like every time I buy a box of hair color to cover my gray (c'mon I'm 51 for pete's sake), or whenever I eat that chocolate I'm not supposed to, and do anyway, cuz it's only one.

However, breaking the law because you are in denial, is criminal. Like ignoring cell phone bans when it's someone's life you may be taking because of it.

"Sure, it's a distraction, but everyone else is doing it, so I will too."

"Sure it's a distraction, but I can handle it."

or, pure denial at it's best, as "Doc", President of ABATE of Florida implies, "I can handle it fine, I use a headset".

denial (noun)

a refusal to allow people to have something that they want or that they believe they have a right to

This definitive phrase goes both ways:

Cell phone users believe no one has the right to take away something they want [selfishness] or believe they have a right to [holier-than-thou attitude].

I, as a motorcyclist, believe I have a right to ride safely [share the road with non-distracted drivers] without being flattened by a distracted cell phone user [the right to live].

Is my right to life more important than someone else's right to gab on the phone? Apparently not.

psychology a state of mind marked by a refusal or an inability to recognize and deal with a serious personal problem

This phrase applies to those who will not even admit that cell phone use is a distraction (Yo, Doc, catch my drift?). I am far more afraid of this type of person than the one who knows it's a distraction, but does it anyway.

In the article above, the author states early on, "But some time between then and now, I lost the headset and never bothered to replace it. There didn't seem to be a point, when almost every other driver on the road had gone back to gabbing on the phone without making the slightest attempt to hide it."

Apparently she thinks it's OK, because "everyone else is doing it". My mother used to smack me when I would tell her I wanted to do something because "everyone else was doing it". She'd tell me, "You're not everyone else! And you're going to do the right thing." The difference is, I was 12 years old, and this author has to be at least an adult of some indeterminate age.

Ernestine Funches disagrees that Chicago police hand out enough cell phone user tickets. She says, "I've seen police who see you on the phone and don't do anything," she said. "People don't have any respect for [the ban] because police don't enforce it."

Wrong, Ernestine. People don't respect those of us who might be maimed or killed because they're using a cell phone while driving. They don't respect you either.

Chicagoans obviously feel that police don't have enough to do, or too much time on their hands. How would Ernestine feel if police were giving out cell phone tickets and her relative was killed because police were otherwise occupied? Here's a thought, how about complying with the law so the police don't have to be looking for YOU gabbing on a cell phone while driving, and can get down to the business of protecting and serving?

This is another another law that people blatantly ignore because, if they are caught, it's just a $50 fine, paid and done. (Just be sneakier next time when you use your cell phone.) Kind of like the failure to yield the ROW [while gabbing on a cell phone] and using the canned answer, "I didn't see him [because you were gabbing on the cell phone]", minor traffic violation, court fine, done, you can go now, while the victim you killed leaves behind a grieving family [because you were gabbing on a cell phone!].

How many people would risk using a cell phone while driving if the fine was $500 or $1000? Not near as many. Hit them in the pocketbook and you'll see a difference, I'd bet. Says a lot about our society doesn't it? Pay big bucks, OK, I won't do it. I might kill someone, well "that won't happen", so I'll do it anyway. I think my life is worth a lot more than $50, or even $500 or $1000.

Ernestine goes on to say, "I think they should [give out more tickets], because I know how distracted I get when I'm on the phone."

Am I reading this right? I know I'm old (grandma age, just not a grandma yet), and my brain gets that CRS stuff sometimes, but did she just say people don't respect the law [cell phone ban] and then admit she uses hers and is distracted while using it? So, in effect, Ernestine is saying, "I use my cell phone while driving, it makes me distracted, and I don't respect the law [or the lives of others] enough to obey the ban".

Now this comparison on cell phone tickets versus parking tickets, I'm confused here. An illegally parked car doesn't move, can't be disguised as anything other than a car parked in an illegal parking zone. And don't most cities have meter maids? Then again, a parked car can't kill you, but a driver on a cell phone is likely to. Shouldn't cell phone tickets take precedence over parking tickets? Or is it just easier money to give out the parking tickets? What? Ya, I know, I'm asking for the moon. So sue me.

The article goes on to say, "Researchers at the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety said people weren't obeying the law because it wasn't well-publicized."

Now that's a load of horse patooty. Give me a break here! Maybe 1% of drivers (and that's being kind) aren't aware of the cell phone ban. Maybe the ones passing through, or visiting, but 13,400, out of millions or billions using their cell phones while driving? C'mon folks, how many excuses do we have to have here? What are these guys researching, really? These guys probably belong to the "helmets save lives" club too. Oh wait, the "Insurance" Institute...? Now why does that make my skin crawl?

"Here in Chicago, people seem to be perfectly aware of the rule against cell phones. They just don't think it applies to them."

BINGO! That's the most intelligent and accurate sentence in the entire article.

Another citizen admits to the distraction, but apparently not for him. He's in full denial. (Sorry, this one's name is Don, not Doc.)

"I don't have a problem concentrating," said Don Ambrose, who admits to flouting the ban on a near-daily basis. "And even with a headset, you're still having a conversation. It would still be a distraction."

One thing I do get from this statement though, he is basically admitting that a cell phone IS a distraction with or without a headset. Wait, there may be a few more brain cells working in there than I thought.

I hope this person isn't a solid example of Chicago citizenry. He first says he doesn't have a problem concentrating. Is that when you take a leak, Don? Or maybe when you are trying to decide between a double latte or a mocha grande? What this really means is he feels slighted because he thinks he can use a phone either way, headset or not, without any impairment. Sorry Don, your brain is impaired even without the cell phone or headset.

Someone please explain to me how the Chicago Sun-Times editor in chief approved of this useless, amusing at best, article? But then, I guess this author was the best one to write this 5th grade article. After all, it's written about cell phone law avoidance, by a person who breaks the same law - because everyone else does. What fine upstanding citizens journalists are. I'm going to believe everything they say now.....NOT!

When will I see an intelligent and informative article about cell phone impairment, written by a journalist who understands the real repercussions of cell phone use while driving? Hopefully before I die at the hands (and wheels) of a cell phone impaired driver.

Now I'm gonna go out to eat, and steal me another ashtray. Why not? Everyone else does it.

Tennessee Highway Patrol - Just Go Away

Bikers everywhere are rearranging their vacation and travel plans to avoid the extreme harrassment and unwarranted tickets while traveling through The Tail of the Dragon (in Tennessee). Once again, and yet another state (along with CA & MA), is showing it's law enforcement colors.

On Friday, Saturday and Sunday August 3-6, there were some 14 Tennessee Highway Patrol vehicles and a couple of Blount County Sheriffs cars blatantly harassing both motorcycles and cars on the 11 miles of the Dragon. They promise to be here for the next month. Talk about showing your ignorance...
Tail of the Dragon

Snippet from a letter to the THP:

"Over this past weekend there were two traffic fatalities within 65 miles of the Dragon. If you had not saturated this 11 miles of US129 with Troopers perhaps these other accidents could have been avoided.

Your program will continue to be presented on our TailoftheDragon.com website for what it is. Perhaps someone in power will see the ridiculous extremes presented by your governmental bureaucracy and take action."
Big Bend Bikers For Freedom

Please add your voice to this issue, whether you ride or not. At the very least, send a letter or email to the authorities listed on this website, and to your own state. Judging by the trend lately, this could be YOUR state.

[I found the photo above on another site containing useful information about motorcycle laws in California (Ducati Girl). You'll notice, if you haven't already, that the cop in the photo is a cardboard cutout. I don't recommend that you do this to a real cop, unless you have the need to spend the night in jail. However, the image struck me as appropriate, and made me laugh in light of the above horific actions of Tennessee's Highway Patrol. You go, Ducati Girl!]

Words of Comfort

This was sent to me shortly after my last post. I wanted to print them because they made someone near and dear to me feel better about life.

These are lyrics to a Barbara Streisand song:

They say there's a universal plan
For every woman, for every man
I do believe there's a higher power
But in our darkest hour it's hard to understand
So we start to question, start to doubt
We lose faith in what life's all about

Why did the right road take the wrong turn
Why did our heart break, why'd we get burned
Just like the seasons there are reasons for the path we take
There are no mistakes
Just lessons to be learned

Don't give up, keep on looking deep inside
Let your heartbeat be your guide
Cause there's a gift, for those who keep believing
You'll find what you've been needing is right before your eyes
You'll hold the answer in your hands
Then you'll know, you'll finally understand

Why did the right road take a wrong turn
Why did our heart break, why'd we get burned
Just like the seasons there are reasons for the path we take
There are no mistakes
Just lessons to be learned

No matter how many times you stumble or fall
The greatest lesson is loving yourself through it all

Why did the right road take a wrong turn
Why did our heart break, why'd we get burned
Just like the seasons, there are reasons for the path we take
There are no mistakes
Just lessons
Lessons to be learned

Faith and Happiness Go Hand in Hand

I have a friend who has cancer. Several years ago, the doctors told her she had 6 months to live. Her name is Judy.

I came to know her through a fellow engineer where I work. I've never met her face to face, but I know her. She sends out emails to everyone on an email list, who requests updates on her condition.

Throughout the last two years that I have been receiving her email updates, she has been through many changes in treatment, including radiation, and chemotherapy. Judy's cancer invaded her lungs, her liver, and other organs. It has nearly disappeared several times, but has come back.

Working in the medical field like I do, I visit hospitals around the country, and primarily work in critical care areas. I have met many cancer victims and heard of many different cases. I know the debilitating effects of Chemo and Radiation therapy; the pain, the headaches, the nausea, the hopelessness.

What is so remarkable about Judy is her faith in God. Through every set-back, Judy has praised God. Through every victory, she has praised God. I have never seen Judy lose hope. Her peaceful acceptance regardless of what happens is governed by her faith in God as no one else I've ever known. It is without anger, or blame, or self-pity.

Judy is a testament to us all in our ordinary and healthy lives that many of us could learn from. Because of her faith, she is not encumbered by those emotions that could detract from every day in her life, when she may not have any to lose.

During times when things don't go right, or as you'd want them to, putting yourself into God's hands brings peace, and Judy is gifted with that same peace that I wish for every day of my life.

We all know the value of knowing someone cares when you're hurt or sad, and has you in their prayers. I've asked all I know to add Judy to their prayers. God hears all prayers, even if there is no indication of such, it's part of that faith.

Recently, Judy received a signed letter from the President. You may not like our current President, or be a Republican. You may be thinking that this letter is just one of hundreds automatically sent out. And that may be so, but the person who sent it out on behalf of the President did it on his request. What matters, is that it was sent, and it brightened the day of someone who needed it.

Many of you know that I am a huge advocate of the Patriot Guard Riders, and my passionate respect for those who serve our country. Through my job, I have been in military hospitals many times, populated by hundreds of burn victims, amputees, and other critically injured soldiers. And I've also heard them praise our President, as he visits these soldiers regularly, and personally speaks to them about whatever they wish to speak about. I know that he does care by the way these brave souls speak of him.

This letter, this small act of kindness, for one such as Judy who has never served in the armed forces but certainly fights for her life everyday, has brought joy and happiness to one of God's most faithful.

God is my ultimate hero, but Judy marches right along side of Him here on earth, and inspires me to be a better Christian because of it.

Show someone you care, and you will notice all those who care about you. Whatever faith you have in whatever God you worship, make it absolute. Your life may not change over night, but the peace will come.

A little faith will bring your soul to heaven, but a lot of faith will bring heaven to your soul. ~Author Unknown

Please add Judy to your prayer list. God will know who you are praying for. And if you'd like to send her your encouragement, please send me a message or reply to this post. I will see that she gets it.

Kill a Biker, Go to Jail

Click on the link to take you to the petition below. C'mon, it's just a few clicks!

Sign this petition.

The ultimate goal for this petition is to STRENGTHEN the current punishments, not to create more laws!

To: U.S.Congress

Each and every day, distracted and inattentive drivers pull out in front of, follow too close or simply "mow over" motorcycles. Bikers are being injured and killed because of carelessness. Most of the time, the drivers receive a warning, simple citation, slap on the wrist or less.

If you pull a gun out and accidentally shoot someone, you most likely get tried for Involuntary Manslaughter.

If you hit someone on a bike and kill him or her, you get a ticket.

We would like for congress to pass legislation to strengthen punishments for drivers who kill.

Some states have tried to take action but it's time the federal government gets involved.

The statement "Kill a Biker, Go To Jail" is nothing new, but it must become a fact of life for drivers who carelessly murder bikers.

Most bikers ride in fear, knowing that if they get run over, the penalty is great for them, but not the careless driver that did them in!

If you support the right to live and ride, without the fear of some lowlife running you over and getting away with it, please sign this petition.

Sincerely,

The Undersigned

Word of the Week - Incommode

Today I'm starting a new theme with this post. Oh, it'll still be about bikers and such, but being a person who adores fun words, I've decided to choose a word of the week and center a post around it's meaning.

Many words in the English language (as well as others) can be traced back to Latin. As a lover of interesting words, as well as Latin words, this weekly post is partially for my own enjoyment. I hope you enjoy it too.

This week's word is "incommode".

Now, when I saw this word, the first thing that came to mind was "in the toilet". And it's not far off the mark, especially if I use it to describe what politicians do (or don't do). However, it's not pronounced that way (no matter what your "hooked on Phonics" teacher said).

incommode (in-kuh-MOD) verb tr.

To inconvenience.

[From Latin incommodus (inconvenient), ultimately from the Indo-European root med- (to take appropriate measures) that is also the source of medicine, modern, modify, modest, and modulate.]

"Politicians and law makers (and some lobbyists) are unwilling to consider banning cell phone use while driving because this will seriously incommode their own selfish desires."

Now, I'll be the first to admit I'm human and human nature is inherently self-serving. We conjure up all sorts of reasons for the things we do, but ultimately most of the things we do are self-serving. Whether they are selfish or not depends on how those acts affect others, as in the violation of the human rights. The right to live is one of those rights, wouldn't you agree?

We obey traffic laws because they were created to allow others to travel safely together on the same roads. If we do not obey these laws because it's an inconvenience, we're distracted, or we simply don't want to, it's a selfish act that may cause another to lose his or her life. That disobedience or unlawfulness becomes a violation of human rights for which is punishable according to the law.

Just as driving under the influence of alcohol impairs our driving ability, driving under the influence of cell phones also impairs our driving ability. Notice I didn't say driving with a cell phone in hand, or driving with a cell phone in the car (and a hands free device in your ear).

Under the influence in this case means: something able to affect the course of events or somebody’s thinking or action, or more simply put, an intoxication.

Our society and form of government allows us to vote for law makers who will uphold our human rights. They work for us, and are paid by us, the common man. We expect them to protect our human rights. Where do lobbyists fit into this equation?

Consider the following snippet by RC of Big Bend Bikers for Freedom, posted on Bruce-n-Ray's biker Forum on a comment the current acting President of ABATE, and also a paid lobbyist, James D. "Doc" Reichenbach II, made:

"The President of the SMRO in this state (fl) has voiced his "need" to use a cell phone while driving. He qualified that statement by adding that of course he uses a hands free device."

What makes this quoted statement self-serving, as well as a selfish one, is he (the President of Florida's SMRO) is voicing his need to use a cell phone and implies that a hands-free device makes this OK to do. Given the studies and information so readily available, as reported by MADD, Mr. Reichenbach clearly contradicts what ABATE stands for.

A hands free device eliminates the use of hands, but in no way keeps the driver centered on driving only. During his or her conversation, when he or she is listening to another voice or composing and delivering a voiced reply, their thoughts are NOT centered on driving.

I consider myself to be a good driver. I certainly have a good driving record. However, I know that cell phone conversations distract me while driving and it would be a lie to say they don't. My bet is the majority of people would say the same, if they were honest. Sounds to me like Mr. Reichenbach is more worried about losing his right to use a cell phone while driving, than my right to live and ride safely.

The really sad part of the quoted statement above is he has a great influence on legislators, and law makers, and is supposed to stand for the human rights of Bikers in Florida. In one fell swoop, he is effectively proclaiming that every one of us, who have had to dodge a cell phone intoxicated driver, are suffering from an overactive imagination.

He even goes as far as warning others not to "antagonize the Transportation Committee", in his posted letter, S620 Cell Phone Bill Update 3/29/2007 on the ABATE of Florida website.

Consider if you will, the Mission Statement on the ABATE website:

• We will lobby and educate the government and general public to promote motorcycling in a safe and positive image.


• We will endeavor to enlist the cooperation and participation of all organizations and individuals who share a similar interest in preserving our American tradition of freedom.


• We will involve ourselves in fund raising to achieve our goals.

Now, this Mission Statement also claims that their paid lobbyist (Mr. Reichenbach) works closely with the Board of Directors to coordinate and formulate favorable bills. So one can assume from this that Mr. Reichenbach is not alone in his statement above. Therefore, ABATE of Florida is not working toward a common interest in preserving freedom, for to ride free one must still be alive to do so.

And if Mr. Reichenbach does not speak for ABATE in his apathetic comment, then why does the ABATE board of directors not rein him in? For he is clearly speaking from a selfish and self-serving point of view. It is an abomination that he be allowed to make such a comment, when all organizations who promote and work toward our freedom to ride safely, clearly must agree. A division of common goals is surely the path to failure.

Supporting ALL Biker's rights does not seem to be the trend here, and supporting a ban on cell phones while driving will obviously incommode Mr. Reichenbach's selfish right to use one, and endanger the lives of others while doing so. Apparently he believes that sticking a hands-free device in his ear makes it all OK. It would seem that Mr. Reichenbach is using his influence to advocate his needs, rather than ABATE's.

And by the way, don't tell me what I can and can't do Mr. Reichenbach, for I have the right to be safe from you and others using cell phones while driving.

And I won't be any safer, helmet or not, until cell phone conversations are banned while operating a deadly weapon, such as a motor-driven vehicle. It is appalling that hard earned money from donations to ABATE is used to pay for Mr. Reichenbach's services, for he clearly is not serving the greater good of Bikers everywhere, and certainly not in Florida.

Until more people "antagonize" the government to curtail this particular driver distraction, our lives and limbs are the payment, and I'll write to any legislator I choose to on any subject that is near and dear to me, if it means I might be heard.

So here's a message to Bikers everywhere: If you believe you are in danger of becoming a victim of a "cell phone intoxicated driver", I encourage you to "antagonize", albeit in a polite and respectful way, any legislator who may have influence over this issue.

And most certainly think very hard about donating your hard earned money to ABATE of Florida, at least while it supports Mr. Reichenbach.

This Latin phrase applies here: Justitia omnibus: "Justice for all"

My motorcycle license plate has the Latin word for "Heaven" on it. I'm not ready to go there just yet, but riding my bike is a little bit of Heaven every time I ride. I'd like to keep it that way.

I'm Baaaa- ack! (Doin' the "Walter Brennan")

Saturday, August 4th, I woke up to overcast skies, and cooler temperatures. 8 AM is an ungodly hour for me, given that I work into all ours of the night and cater to my night-owl tendencies. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes anyway and took a quick shower, knowing that as soon as I fire up my Dyna I'll be ready for the day

This was the monthly Diva ride, planned and organized by the Tallahassee chapter of the Chrome Divas. We were to meet up with others and ride up to Lake Seminole in Georgia to have lunch at a restaurant on the lake. I was looking forward to the ride.

I mounted up and rode a few miles over to Jeff and Christina's house. Jeff is among the most unique people I've come across in many years. His wicked sense of humor could make even the stoniest of faces break into a smile, while the rest of us wipe the tears from our eyes from laughing too hard. His beautiful wife, Christina, looks on with a tolerance born of the understanding of who Jeff is, and quite a few years of a good marriage between the two of them.

Jeff is one of the "Diva Dudes" of our chapter. So named because Christina is a member and he rides with us often. I for one, love having Jeff on our rides. He is one of those rare individuals who can fix most anything, and he carries nearly every tool known to man on his bike. Jeff keeps things in perspective too; soothing and helping the rider who has dropped their bike, or just lightening the mood when everyone is hot and sweaty and tired. We love him, and he holds a place of respect and honor in our group.

I recently was honored with meeting Jeff's parents down in Panama City, and was rewarded with two very wonderful people, who validated my suspicion that no other than they, could have born such a one as Jeff. In my life, this has always been so. Meet the parents of a unique individual with a blend of higher than standard qualities, and you meet two more of the same.

Christina, who is small in stature but big in brains, rides a wicked little Sportster, modified for sound and power, customized for looks, and all by her husband, Jeff. OK, now I'm really envious. How good can it be to have a husband like that?

[I found someone like that a few years back. He rides too. He is the only thing I left behind in my move to Florida that I truly miss. He comes here often to visit. Perhaps one of these times he will come to visit, and stay. But that's another story for another time.]

Another Diva, Jewels, was at Jeff and Christina's house Saturday morning to have Jeff put her new seat on. Jewels is also another one of those unique individuals, with her own brand of humor designed to make you laugh. I love listening to her Georgian accent and visualizing what type of people Georgians are. I may eventually be let down, for I suspect that Jewels is also a one-in-a-million "gem" among Georgians. There cannot possibly be another Georgian as sweet and funny as Jewels. To really know her, is to see her heart of gold.

We rode together, the four of us, over to another Diva's house and picked her up. Kristy is one of our newest Divas, and also new to the sport of motorcycle riding. Having just completed her Rider's Safety course, and passed with flying colors, today's ride was only her second time riding solo. For a second ride in her life, I was impressed at her tenaciousness in joining us, for we were to ride nearly 200 miles. Beyond a few engine stalls, she rode like a champ. We were all very proud of her. She navigated every turn we made like a pro, even a few U-turns, and kept up even when we hit 65-70 mph on Hwy 27 during the return home.

The gathering place before the ride was Capitol City Harley Davidson in Tallahassee. There were about 12 riders when we left, give or take a few. Quite a surprise, given that it looked as though it might rain any minute. Not long after we left, the sun came out and it looked to be a gorgeous day for riding. My light weight jacket came off at our first rest stop. I still have trouble convincing myself I don't need a jacket here.

Our ride was to a region I'd never been to. We took the long route up the west side of Lake Seminole up into Georgia. The day was bright and sunny, and the route was rural and relaxing. Because helmet laws are in effect in Georgia, everyone wore a helmet. The temps were moderate for an August day in this part of the country, and the wind in my face, along with the rumble beneath me, were everything I needed, and why I love my two-wheeled ride.

Riding is rather like an addiction, and anyone who's ever been addicted to something would understand. It's the one thing I do and have done most of my life, in my pursuit of the ultimate rush, that I'll never give up. It's the only place where I am free to think without interruption. I can dream there, reminisce there, or simply not think about anything at all beyond riding my bike. It's my drug of choice.

Fortunately, my body is not prone to chemical addiction. In my youth I tried everything at least once, hard drugs, soft drugs, alcohol, and many different types of extreme sports. To this day, I can't drink more than two beers and not be buzzed beyond the point of impairment. I refuse to drink alcohol when I ride, unless I know I'll be there for hours afterward, and then I drink only one. I gave up hard liquor many years ago, after having unexplained blackout periods. Though I escaped those few episodes unscathed, it was enough to swear it off for good. But I never drank and rode my bike. Never. Drugs made me feel out of control, so those got scrapped in a hurry. I don't even like to take medications now, except aspirin. There are so many highs in life, who needs the artificial ones?

As a young adult, I lived like I was immortal, and enjoyed every minute of it. My mother states that I gave her every gray hair she has. I don't doubt it one bit. My failed personal relationships in life have been with men who were insecure and could not keep up with me (this is when I learned the phrase, get over yourself).

I am a strong personality, and love life to the fullest, every chance I get. I've been told I can be intimidating, and indeed I probably am, for I am tall (strike one), sure of myself (strike two), and educated (strike three). I can't help the first, and I won't apologize for the second and third. I may be sure of myself, but I know when to ask for help. It's how you learn. I chose to be educated, so I could maintain my independence and get ahead in this world on my own steam, but it doesn't mean I don't depend on others.

I have a very strong need to feel everything to a very intense degree. And I have a very strong need to give, be it to society, or an individual, or to the ones I love. There's no in-between for me. When I am happy, I'm VERY happy, when I love, I love deeply and completely, and when I'm sad, I can go down into the depths of hell. I can be sensitive to a fault, but that is all part of the extreme levels of who I am. Those who really know me, know that I have a soft heart, and would give anyone the shirt off my back. And the only one who is close to me now, is just like me.

I was born with a insatiable zest for life and all it had to offer. I like to tell people that I'm 25 years old, with 26 years of experience. My brain will always feel 25, even if my body does not. Our Chrome Diva chapter has a member who is in her 90's. She still rides. She is tougher than nails, has attitude, and a zest for life that has not dimmed with age. My respect for her is immense. I want to be like her when I grow up. She is proof to me that only your body grows old, not your brain, and even then, if you're lucky, your body will still be there for you when you're 90.

My first experience with "hardcore" bikers happened when I was 15. I grew up in a family that went Dove hunting every year. In September we'd pack up the camper and head for northern California. We camped along the higher reaches of the Tule river among the lower region of giant redwoods. The Tule empties out into Lake Success, east of Porterville, CA. This river, during most years, was just a series of waterfalls and deep pools you could swim in to your heart's content. Damn close to paradise as I remember.

One year, a group of Hells Angels arrived in our campground and set up their camp next to us. I'd never been this close to a real "biker" before, and was totally intrigued (in my 15 year old girl teenage starry eyed way). I left with my mom to go somewhere (don't remember where) but we came back to find my dad and one of his hunting buddies drinking beer with these guys. One was a doctor, my dad told me later, and this biker got so drunk he started up his bike, took off, and got it stuck between two large boulders. He got off it and rolled in the dirt laughing.

At 15, I was in awe of these guys. Apparently this awe was obvious to my dad, for I was forbidden to visit them or speak to any of them (or it might have been my mom who dictated this). Having children myself now, I can totally see his reasoning, but I was mad as hell for days about this directive. However, you didn't disobey my dad and get away with it, so I didn't go near them. They packed up and left a few days later. I never had any chance meeting or connection with any Hells Angels after that, but my view of bikers was set for life. They rode machines to make any mouth water, and were people just like anyone else.

When you ride, it's a free feeling, and a chance for reflection. Some bikers will tell you they ride to relax and for peace of mind. That's an understatement for me. The only other thing that gives me close to the same feeling is cruising in a "muscle" car with the top down (the car's top - get your mind outa the gutter), with my man at the wheel. Riding behind him on his bike is close, but riding my own bike takes top billing. Riding my own bike is the ult.

Georgia countryside is beautiful and not much different than the panhandle of Florida. The roads are good (no snow, salt and sand to create those never ending potholes). The soil is red, red, red, and easy to see when going through construction spots. I'm not fond of the nasty little gnats that will swarm your face at stops, but they are insignificant when you're moving. The ride was peaceful and exhilarating, all at the same time.

We had lunch at our destination, Pop's Dockside Cafe. They were unprepared for a group of raucous women, and two men (our Diva Dude, Jeff - and we had a new Diva Dude with us as well), riding in on all manner of motorcycles. I'm not sure I'd recommend this place to anyone as the service was very slow, even though the place was nearly empty. But the food was OK, for a place out in the middle of the boondocks. On a different day, it might be better, who knows. By afternoon it had become very warm, and the occasional pockets of hot air buffeting us as we continued our ride, made me check to see if my bike was overheating. We made another stop at Big Jim's, to cool off before heading for home.

I never rode with large groups much in the past, except I often rode pillion behind a friend on organized benefit rides in the Boston area when I lived there (rides that drew hundreds of bikers, and were controlled by law enforcement along the entire route). Mostly, 3-4 of us would head out somewhere, or I'd just take off by myself for an hour or two.

I am finding, however, through the camaraderie of the Chrome Divas, as well as the Patriot Guard Riders, that group riding is a very fun thing to do. They ride safely and sanely, and I can share the ride with them and know they are feeling the same as me. At the same time, I can find the peace I need in the midst of my sometimes chaotic life. There is safety in numbers as well. Other drivers are less apt to "not see us". It's not a complete "safety net" but it helps.

My riding in the last 5 years has been sporadic and those few rides were short. In 2002, not quite two weeks after selling my Honda Sabre and buying my brand-new-delivered-in-the-crate HD Dyna Wide Glide, I fell in a freak accident in my backyard (not on my bike). I snapped both left leg bones off, just an inch or so from the ends, dislocating my entire foot completely. You know the drill; surgery to install hardware to hold it together, wearing a cast for months, then a walking cast and being forbidden to walk on that for another 4 months or risk not walking right ever again.

I spent months sitting on a stool polishing my already clean bike, and watching others take it for a spin. I added new pipes, and drooled some more. Six months later, I was walking with a limp, but had no leg muscles left with a noticeable difference between the size of my calves. In addition, my Achilles tendon had atrophied from being in a cast so long, and caused me extreme pain to stretch it one way or another. In short, I couldn't trust myself to support the left side of me, or my bike, should I experience any extreme pain in that ankle while riding. Pulling my shift lever up with my toe was out of the question too. It was a year before I could walk without limping, and another year before I had the full range of my tendons and ligaments back.

In 2004, the position I held in my job took off, and I began traveling nearly nonstop. It seemed that either I was away from home on a trip, or if I was home it was raining and/or snowing. I also lived alone, and my bike was housed in a portable shed to keep it out of the weather. The doorway was too narrow to maneuver it on my own. I was not entirely sure I could ride anyway. The memories of the long road to recovery were still very fresh. I didn't want to drop or crash my brand new bike. So I left it stored, and went out to look at it from time to time (in-between work trips), to make sure there weren't any critters making nests in it, and resisted the urge to sell it.

One of my main goals in moving to Florida (among many) was to have a place where I could store my bike (a garage) and ride every chance I got, in spite of my travel schedule and any diversity of weather. I never know when I have to jump on a plane and go somewhere and I wanted to have the option to ride all year, at every opportunity. The aches and pains from living such a physical life, accentuated by cold winters, drove me to a warmer climate as well (getting older does have its pitfalls).

So, when I started riding again in earnest, I reverted back to an old beginner habit of scoping out the entrance or exit for the "easy" route. I was protective of my ankle too, and still had a twinge now and then. Eventually though, I stopped worrying and just rode. And rode. I guess all that hardware in my ankle does the job it's supposed to do.

So, on Saturday after the ride, I came home with a very satisfied feeling. The day went by in total enjoyment. Not once did I feel any complaint from my ankle. I cruised in total comfort, ever watchful, but relaxed and letting my thoughts drift back in time to adventures gone by. No worries. Life is good.

A friend of mine taught me the "Walter Brennan" jig, which is a little dance that particular actor used in many a film performance, sort of like a "ta-da!" (Walter was one of my favorite actors in the old westerns back in the 60's). So, after pulling into the garage, I hopped off my bike and did the "Walter Brennan" right there next to my parked bike. I'm in control again, and damn it feels good.

Riding after a long hiatus was another learning experience for me. It made me feel unsure of myself, and that's a place I don't like to be. Never take anything (or anyone) for granted, I keep reminding myself, and just because I've ridden one type of bike or another since my teens does not make me a confident and adequate rider. Hours of riding many miles does. It's been 5 months since hopping back on my bike and riding several times a week to catch up for lost time. Whatever made me think I could resume riding consistently the first time out (or even second time), is beyond me. Ignorance can be fixed, stupid is forever. Life is just a series of learning experiences. I got through this one a little smarter and a little wiser.

And, when I'm really honest with myself, I doubt very much I could get on a dirt bike today, and jump into the fray with much success, even if I still had the body strength I once had. Though I know I'd have a good time and pay BIG the next day, it ain't happening.

One thing I do know for sure - it'll take an act of God (or Congress) to keep me off my bike for any length of time, until the day I'm unable to walk out there and fire it up myself.

Ride to fly, until I die.

We're Mad and We're Not Gonna Take it Anymore!

Recently, on Bruce-n-Ray's Biker Forum, as well as RC's blog, posts have appeared that accentuate the fact that the growing number of "inattentive" auto drivers is a clear and present danger. Bruce, who is on his way to Sturgis Biker Rally had no less than 3 near-misses with "inattentive" auto drivers, all talking on cell phones, in the 1st 36 hours of his trip.

So, what is "inattentive" exactly? This is a very broad term. I could list them all out for you, but you know what they are. Everyone is guilty of it at some point. Consciously paying attention to driving legally and obeying traffic laws is not enough. You must be aware of every everything and everyone around you. If you're not, you're an "inattentive" driver.

Makes me think of the comedian, Jeff Foxworthy....

You're an inattentive redneck driver if.....

Let's examine common driving practices. We all have our pet peeves, but let's just look at the ones that kill motorcyclists the most in particular; failure to yield the right of way, and merging errors.

My dad didn't teach me to drive, drivers ed did, but he taught me to drive safely. He was a Sales rep for a large automotive parts company back in the 70's and covered southern California, from the Mexico border up to Sacramento. He drove a lot of miles and never had an accident, a ticket, or even a near miss.

"Always know who's behind you and beside you," he told me, "Don't make exaggerated moves. Use your turn signals. Be considerate of others. Go with the flow. Never drive over your limitations. Know where your blind spots are, and always turn your head to look before changing lanes." Does anyone do this anymore? I do, but if I didn't my dad would kick my butt from here to next year.

Good advice? You bet! Do you ever see this in a written state driving test? Oh please. It's far more important to know how many feet exactly before that corner that you should turn your signal on.

Now, I'm not saying I've never had an accident. I remember it very well, about 15 years ago. I was distracted and didn't see a stopped vehicle ahead. What was I doing? And here's the ironic part, I was looking through my mail and saw a notice that my soon-to-be-ex-husband had cancelled my auto insurance. I looked up, hit the brakes, and bam!

I learned a lot from that accident, the least of which was, you never really know people, even when you're married to them for 19 years. No one was hurt. I had a truck, bent the bumper. He had a truck, bent his bumper. He was nice and didn't sue me, I was nice and paid for both bumpers. The thing I learned most is it never pays to do anything but drive when you're driving. Having never rear-ended anyone before, I also learned there is NO way out of that one. You pay.

Not so for a failure to yield the right of way. When I was a very young driver, I swooped around a corner in my screamin' Camaro, down-shifted into 2nd gear and roared into traffic at a high speed, and cut off a police car in the process. I didn't see him, obviously, but that's because I didn't look. I got a slap on the hand for that one. What it taught me was, failure to yield the ROW was a minor offense and if I had to do it once in a while, well that's OK. (My dad re-educated me on that one!)

A young person recently commented to me about a driving law; the one where you should stop completely, before the line, and then inch forward to see beyond any obstructions. She didn't know that one, and failed her driving test. To me that's a no-brainer. She also asked me how she should know when it's her turn to go at a 4-way stop intersection. I just looked at her like she was from another planet. But seriously, how many people know the answer to that one? Ask a few people. You'll be amazed at the answers you get.

Many long-time drivers, I swear, have no clue what the term "Yield" means, or the term "Merge". And if they do, how come they don't drive like they do? How many times have we seen a car coming onto the freeway and they just fade into your lane like they have blinders on? Merge does not mean keeping going, oncoming cars beware, it means merge into traffic at a safe speed and look for others when doing so. The same goes for oncoming traffic. Would it hurt to slow a little to let someone in? It's called common courtesy. American drivers don't know what that means anymore. Hurry up, don't let that car or bike in front of you. You might get there one minute later than him.

The dictionary defines yield: to slow down or stop in order to let another vehicle pass. It's a verb, an action. What part of THAT do people not understand? Do they think the DOT puts up those yellow signs to beautify the roadway? But hey, fail to yield and kill a biker, it's just a slap on the hand, right? "I didn't see him" means "I didn't LOOK".

In New England (and other backward parts of the country) there are traffic circles known as "roundabouts" or "rotaries". These are something I did not grow up with or even was aware of before moving to the Boston area in 1999. Some insane person or persons stayed up late one night on drugs and came up with this hair brained idea that traffic circles were a good thing for traffic flow, but never thought about the potential for accidents. What were they thinking???

Those who live in New England are very adept at cutting you off, and/or running you off the road in these traffic circles, oblivious to the yellow signs displaying the word "Yield". I came to learn through driving my car in these traffic circles that they should be renamed "suicide circles" for motorcycles. if you go into one, it's every man/woman for themselves. In one state, you have the ROW inside the traffic circle, in other states, those coming into it have the ROW. I doubt anyone really pays attention except getting in as fast as possible and getting out when you want to, everyone else be damned.

Another traffic law that results in many accidents (cars and bikes) is when it is legal to pass on the right (like in Massachusetts). OK, I can live with that, though it's illegal to pass on the right in most western states. But drivers make it an unspoken rule that if a single lane is wide enough for two vehicles, and there are no painted lines, it becomes a two-lane road instead of one. I'd be riding up some main road through some town outside of Boston and a car would pass me on the right at radical speeds. If there's enough room, and there's too much traffic slowing you down, simply create a new lane, voila!

There's a reason that Massachusetts was once rated the #1 worse drivers in the country, and has probably never been out of the top five. The auto insurance alone is enough to create road rage.

OK, so now you've got drivers (all over the country) who either do not understand traffic laws, don't know them, or don't care, and never have to be retested on them again. In addition, you can violate them, kill someone and get away with it. Gotta love American justice, eh? Add to that all the distractions people purposely add to their driving time and you've got dead bikers.

I once saw a woman pass me in the breakdown lane at high speed (another east coast thing designed to ease traffic conditions during rush hour, but it is so badly abused that the breakdown lane actually becomes the "fast lane"). It had snowed the night before, but was sunny that morning. The salt and sand trucks had already been out, so the road was wet and the snow was cleared. the breakdown lane had just enough room to drive in, if you paid attention to the snow and slush on the edge of the road. It was the high point of the morning rush hour. When she passed me doing close to 65 mph, my lane (the far right one) was creeping along at an average of 40 mph. She was putting on mascara while driving.

Another 20 minutes down the road, I saw a car off to the right, nose first into a tree, buried in knee deep snow, and the tire tracks leading to it had to be 100 feet long. She'd faded into the slush on the edge of the road and couldn't control her car. three other cars were involved, but fortunately no motorcycles. I pulled off the highway to speak to one of the officers on scene. The woman who had been driving the car was sitting in one of the patrol cars waiting for an ambulance. She had what looked like a small cut on her face, and was holding her arm, probably broken.

I mentioned to the officer that she had been putting on makeup when she passed me. He looked incredulous at me, and we walked over to the car to look inside. On the floor of the passenger side was her makeup bag spilled onto the floor. The mascara tube was still uncapped. Her cell phone was also on the floor. The officer picked up the phone and looked at the call history. She had been talking on her cell phone AND putting on makeup. She was 36 years old.

While young people are inexperienced drivers who still have the "I know everything" outlook on life, distracted driving has no age limit. Nor is it limited to gender, or even profession. I think the older the person is, and the longer they've been driving, the more they think they can multitask and operate a car with no problems. Just like the person who claims that they drive with a bluetooth headset, and therefore are not distracted while on the phone and driving at the same time. What a load of crap, and an arrogant comment too.

I once passed a man driving erratically in the fast lane and when I got up beside him and looked over, he was leaning on the center console with a cell phone to his ear, talking animatedly. I paced him and watched him for quite a while. His speed was anywhere between 50 mph and 80 mph. Cars behind him were pulling out in frustration and cutting people off, just so they could get around him. I had only been living in New England for a short time, and had not yet experienced road rage, and indeed thought road rage was when someone pulled a gun out and shot at you (I'd heard rumors of that), or when two people pulled off and duked it out over some argument over driving. Well, that is road rage all right, but wait till you hear what happened next.

Eventually he looked over at me, and being the big mouth that I am sometimes, I mouthed the words, "Hang up the phone and drive", and then sped up to the speed limit, intent on leaving him behind.

The man immediately pulled in behind me and turned on police lights hidden in the front grill, and pulled me over! He was a cop off duty, albeit out of his jurisdiction, but a cop nonetheless. About that time, I was cursing myself for meddling, but I just couldn't let it go without alerting him to his horrible driving. He stomped up to my window and proceeded to literally yell and scream at me about making comments to other drivers on the road. He accused me of road rage. I sat there dumbfounded and listened without a word, trying to appear calm, in the presence of a cop no less, who was displaying such anger. Though I didn't think he had the grounds to haul me off to jail, I didn't want to push it. Hey, he had a gun and I didn't. Finally he stomped back to his car and took off, nearly causing an accident as he pulled into traffic. He was probably arguing with his wife on the phone.

Both of these episodes happened while I was driving a 4-wheeled vehicle. I owned a 3/4 ton truck then. And I used it to my advantage. I could travel down a one-lane road wide enough for two cars, but if I drove in the center of it, other cars couldn't pass me (more of that audacity I'm famous for). People watched out for me because I had the size and they didn't. But remember, I also owned and rode a motorcycle. I was always aware of them. My eyes were always on my mirrors, watching for whoever is around me, as my dad taught me to be. Whenever I could, I used my large vehicle to shield or protect motorcycles from other cars, allowing them to pass me while holding others back.

Now, I won't say I don't use my cell phone while driving. I do. I usually limit my conversations, and in dangerous areas or very heavy traffic, I just don't answer it. Chances are it isn't my kid calling to tell me of an emergency. I know I need all my attention to be on my driving. If I really need to continue to talk, I pull off. It is not my God-given right to use my cell phone while driving. Nor is it anyone else's, if it endangers the lives of others sharing the road.

It goes without saying, and most would agree, that eating, putting on makeup, shaving, reading, and doing things with your hands other than driving, is a dangerous practice. Children need to learn manners in the car too. Mine did, or I pulled off and let them know in no uncertain terms what would happen to them if they didn't. As a parent, it was my responsibility to assure that I was not distracted by them. When you sign up to be a parent, you take on the responsibility for them. They learn by your example, so set a good one.

A huge portion of distracted driving is caused by conversations on cell phones, not the actually holding of one. Nearly every man woman and child over the age of ten owns a cell phone in this country. So OK, ten year olds don't drive. How many does that leave? Most or all of them who drive, use their cell phones while driving. Look up the census records yourself and do the math.

Society has gone from wired phones, with a stool by the wall. Then on to cordless phones which still had to remain in your house, and then cell phones that could go anywhere. I even have one of those cellular cards that plug into my laptop for internet connection. I use it in cities where I can't get good internet connections. I was astonished to hear of people who surf the net while driving! Can you say S-T-U-P-I-D? Whenever I see that commercial, "Can you hear me now?", I fill in with "Can you kill me now?"

Cell phone use while driving, however, is currently your choice. Can you consciously make the right choice? Can you leave your arrogance and selfishness behind and eliminate its use, or at least limit its use? Even with the awareness I have because I ride a motorcycle, I know of times when the miles went right by without knowing what I passed, because I was on the phone, and I've always used a hands free bluetooth device. Without cruise-control engaged, my speed is erratic, causing other drivers to become irritated and angry. Hellooooo. Can you say road rage? Human beings have the tendency for erratic behavior when angry, or distracted. Being on a cell phone while driving not only distracts you, but it has a ripple effect, distracting others. Distracted driving kills people.

What this all adds up to is motorcyclists are dying everyday because of auto drivers' failure to obey traffic laws, and driving distractions, primarily cell phones. And BTW, someone pa-leeeease explain to me how a helmet helps an auto driver drive better and not hit me? And why is it that the phrase, "I didn't see him" excuses these actions?

People who have families like you and me, and who have the right to share the road safely with other vehicles, are dying, and the guilty get a slap on the hand. Is this a violation of MY human rights? You bet it is! And it makes me mad!

Now let's examine some prejudices. We go out of our way to make room for bicycles on the road. How often do you see signs telling you to share the road with bicycles? While I can appreciate city DOT's putting those signs up, where is the same for motorcycles? Motorcyclists are just as vulnerable as bicyclists, so why aren't they given the same consideration?

And insurance companies aren't much better. Do they also discriminate against you if you own and ride a bicycle? Mine doesn't, but I pay more for life insurance because I ride a motorcycle. One goes faster and further, both riders die if hit by an auto. Why aren't bicyclists harassed about wearing protecting clothing, or full face helmets?

Politicians are oblivious to these facts, no matter how we print, speak or broadcast it. They are fixated on helmets, or the lack of. Journalists and bleeding heart liberals (redundancy at its best) fuel the fire by spouting off inaccurate and/or incomplete statistics. The general public looks down their noses at a motorcyclist who rides bareheaded, as they are yakking on a cell phone and swerving into your lane.

Speaking of helmets, let's talk about those for a minute. Most motorcyclists will not have a minor crash with an auto that let's them walk away unscathed or with minor injuries; crashes with autos are never minor. Motorcyclists die all the time, helmet or not, from blunt force trauma to the brain. When struck by an auto, we are separated from our much smaller vehicle and become faster than a speeding bullet fired into a brick wall, usually head first. Whether it's your helmet hitting the auto, or your head, it's still most always a fatal.

Our heads are but one part of the body. Is it preferable to live, if we don't know we're alive? Unless you put a metal cage with airbags around a bike, a crash will cause debilitating injury, helmet or not. Many tell me they don't want to wear a helmet so they don't survive a crash to become a vegetable. That's reasonable to me. And it's certainly my right to choose.

Perhaps in the distant future, some scientist will invent a force-field for motorcycles and we won't have to worry about being run over by autos anymore. Beam me up, Scotty!

I don't look at helmets the same way as seat belts in an auto. Seat belts save lives with a much larger percentage than helmets do, by virtue that, if you stay in your vehicle, in a protected position, you are less likely to be critically injured.

So let's be clear, helmets help prevent your head from splitting open and your brain from spilling out. It does not prevent brain injury or death. And frankly, if I am hit by some inconsiderate, self-absorbed, arrogant, anal retentive, cell-phone impaired auto driver, I don't want to live in a vegetable state the rest of my life, or wonder if I'm ever going to stop being in constant pain from the umpteen surgeries I have to have. Just put me 6 feet under, thank you very much, for the Lord loves me far more than the politians and journalists do.

Now, granted, if I was a speed demon on my bike, taking chances on curves, pulling wheelies, I'd think it was prudent to wear a helmet just to protect me from myself. And I could just kill myself anyway. But when will lawmakers accept the fact that helmets don't save the majority of lives, good auto drivers do?

Approximately 2/3 of motorcycle deaths can be attributed to auto driver error with no fault of the motorcyclist. The excuse is nearly always, "I didn't see them". (What? Did you expect to hear someone say, "sorry I was putting on my makeup and didn't see them"?) Drivers are expected to look for oncoming traffic, before pulling out, or changing lanes. Last time I looked, motorcycles were included in that term oncoming traffic. When an auto driver violates my rights by running me over, there should be hell to pay. Not only do prosecutors need to stand up for those rights, but - and here's a novel concept - how about owning up to your mistakes? And then work toward correcting their behavior?

Motorcycles are different than autos in many ways. They can accellerate up to the speed limit faster. They can stop faster. Use your brains, figure it out. A truck can't stop as fast as a car (I found that out the hard way). It's pure physics. Next time you're tailgating that motorcycle, think about how much that person appreciates the use of his legs and BACK OFF. Many a biker has lost life and limb when a tailgating car squashes them between the auto behind them and the next one. [Oh wait, he wasn't wearing a helmet, so that must be why he died.]

It all comes down to one thing; auto=big and heavy, motorcycle=small and light. It's simple, but then most people can't see the simplicity of anything, and try to make something more complicated than it really is.

Now let's examine the vehicles currently sharing the road with motorcycles. Next time you're sitting at a stoplight, count the number of minivans, SUV's and trucks. Now count the number of cars. If you do this enough times, you'll have your own statistics. So I'm not going to print them for you. The reality is, there are far more utility vehicles on the road now than ever before. The era of the family stationwagon is over.

What does this have to do with anything? It means that when a motorcycle broadsides one of these vehicles, the rider no longer is thrown over the roof of that vehicle, as with a sedan or low profile car. It's like hitting a BRICK wall. What part of brick wall is not understood here? You die, sometimes you die instantly if you're lucky, instead of being thrown over the vehicle and onto the ground, where you may have had a chance.

So, there are more light truck and SUV's on the road, than low profile cars. The number of automobiles has increased. The number of drivers has increased. The rate of awareness for motorcycles has NOT kept up with the first two points. The number of motorcycles and riders has increased. Well, Jeez, of course the number of motorcycle deaths have gone up. And that won't change until drivers learn to obey traffic laws and stop the "inattentive" driving habits.

And how do we get auto drivers to obey traffic laws? Make the punishment fit the crime. You kill a person with your vehicle, you go to jail. Simple. Don't most law abiding citizens refrain from breaking the law because of the consequences? I doubt, no I know, people will not stop using cell phones while driving unless a law is passed. human nature is way too selfish for that. Sad but true.

These facts are also ignored by our politicians and journalists. If you're one of them reading this, try being open-minded instead of indignant that I've pointed out your selective blindness. Drivers of light trucks and SUV's must be even more aware of motorcycles now. If they didn't "see" us when they drove a car, do you think they'll see us when driving the kids to soccer in the family minivan or SUV?

Here's another point to ponder. SUV's sit higher, and have more visibility of the surrounding traffic. Yet, motorcyclists are still being killed more than ever. Think they're looking? Not on your life.

Do we educate drivers on the safety factors involved for motorcyclists? Sadly, no. We don't even educate them sufficiently on driving autos and we don't require people to retake a written driving test again beyond their first one at 16 years old, outside of exceptions involving suspended or lapsed licenses, or moving to a state that requires it. Most don't.

There is a huge push to educate motorcyclists on riding safely, but the fact that auto drivers are responsible for most motorcycle deaths never even registers. Doesn't it stand to reason that educating auto drivers just might reduce the number of motorcycle deaths caused by failure to yield the right of way? My, my, my, wouldn't journalists everywhere eat some crow if the death rate dropped by that 2/3 caused by auto drivers. Hmmm, maybe that's why they refuse to see the writing on the wall. It's far easier to pin the blame on the dead biker who wasn't wearing a helmet.

I am delighted to hear that more and more people are riding motorcycles these days. At least I know that someone driving a car, who also rides a motorcycle, is not likely to be the one who runs me over on mine.

To quote a favorite quote from my younger days, "What we have here, is a failure to communicate." And on a big scale too. In my line of work, if something keeps failing, we evaluate the broken process and fix it. We don't "bandaid" things. The helmet law is a "bandaid" fix for a very broken process. Using your cell phone while driving an auto is a selfish act that can and does take lives, so why is it allowed? Failing to yield the right of way kills people, so why is a slap on the hand suitable punishment?

Let's fix the root cause. Let's educate auto drivers everywhere, not just on motorcycle awareness and safety, but on obeying traffic laws. Let's change the laws and make the punishment fit the crime. We all want to see that murderer get time. Failure to yield the right of way and killing someone in the process is vehicular homicide at the very least. ROW laws are there for a reason. "I didn't see them" is just another way of saying, "I didn't look, or look hard enough". The burden of proof of innocence should be on the auto driver when the dead biker is unable to speak for himself, doncha think?

Get MADD. Make a difference. Even if it's just you that changes the way you drive, or stops using your cell phone in your car, it will make a difference. But beware, bikers everywhere are watching, and there are changes in the wind, cuz we're mad, and we're not gonna take it anymore.

I know this post will most likely be read by other bikers, and I'm just "preaching to the choir", but perhaps someone who doesn't ride will read it and pursue the need for more information. Or maybe it'll be another biker like me, who has only just begun to fight.

Check out the websites in my links list, specifically MADD, and Big Bend Bikers for Freedom. Educate yourself on these issues, educate someone else. Stop the killing.

This "big bad motorcycle mama" will thank you for it.