Chapter 2: Along Comes POJ.

Have you ever been ice-fishing? Let’s just sum it up in two words: It Sucks. Yes, with a capital “S”. I have never been very fond of fishing, but Ice fishing? Where you get to walk out on a huge chunk of ice hoping that it’s not really going to break even though you keep hearing cracks like gunshots and friends telling stories of dynamite retrieving dogs that like to hide under brand new trucks parked on the ice? Did I also mention it’s usually quite cold when you do this? Basically, you go out on a frozen lake. Drill or hack a hole in the ice. Drop a line in and then sit and watch this hole. Yup, pretty darn fun.

For some reason, at about the age of 15, I actually thought this was “fun”. Let’s pretend your 15. You got up at 4:00 in the morning some freezing winter day during Christmas break cause the early fisher gets the fish, or something like that. You’ve been standing on a frozen lake in the middle of the Alberta Prairies, where the wind has likely been blowing about 30 mph all week. The sun FINALLY comes up. You’re bored. You haven’t had a single bite.

Obviously, it’s time to do something else. Not much else around but a couple of ancient run down grain bins on the side of the leg. Guess it’s time to go exploring! My friend and I wandered over to the shore which was part of an old farm yard. The grain bins were in pretty sorry shape. We peaked in one or two to find nothing of interest. One of them, on the other hand, had a great deal of interesting lumps of metal coated in a warm blanket of dust patiently waiting out the winter. Motorcycles! Hundreds of them! Parts hanging from the rafters! Extra motors lined up waiting to be installed in future projects!

Okay, not really. There were a couple of bent up frames, 3 or 4 engines that had seen much better days, several used tires, and one half of a motorcycle. Well, maybe more like two thirds of a motorcycle. This two thirds of a motorcycle was the one that started it all!

We spent a couple of hours in the shed, poking through all of the stuff and dreaming of all the things we could do. All these tires, a Hodaka motor that kicked over, bits of motorcycle frames, we could make a killer go-cart!!! The two thirds of a motorcycle we inspected carefully. It was ROUGH. It had no back wheel. Engine covers were off, engine was stuck, side cover was missing, tire (the front one, cause the back one didn’t exist!) was flat, center stand was bent out of shape, and lots of dings, dents, and rust.

It was OLD. Metal everything. We weren’t too interested, because at the time we were into the REAL dirt bikes- like the CR60, YZ80, and IT400. This old thing was a boat anchor. We thought we could do SOMETHING with it though, and all of the other parts had to be worth something.

Luckily, my friends dad was a realtor and he knew exactly who owned the property. We called him up and asked what his plans were for all of that junk, to which he replied, “Take anything you want!”

Didn’t need to tell us twice!!!

We zipped back out there later that day with my friends dads little pickup. There was a brief encounter with a slightly irate farm hand who was a little perturbed that we were loading a bunch of stuff in the back of the truck. We explained to him what his boss had told us, and I guess that was good enough for him because he left us alone to gather our junk.

At this point, I need to say something about garages. My parents, well, my Dad, has a thing for junk. He collects it by the ton. He’s very good at presentation though, so you don’t really notice it. Unless you happen to be a friend of his or even a friend of mine that has garage space or a farm where old dead tractors, combines, trucks, lawnmowers, etc could be stored. Needles to say, our garage was quite full of STUFF. Cant remember for sure but at the time I think he was working on restoring an old wood burning cook stove and the second Honda Odyssey, both of which turned out really nice and are even still in use (sorta) today. Between his projects, tools, spare parts, and the two cars in that garage, there wasn’t much room for any of my projects.

This wasn’t as big a deal as it could have been. You see, Clint’s Dad had a LARGE shop behind there house, and he never used it. At one point I think we had 7 or 8 sleds, 5 or 6 bikes, a fourwheeler, a boat, and several other assorted bits of machinery in various stages of disrepair. It was a great shop. Had a big sliding door, a loft for storing parts, and most importantly, a HEAT SOURCE!

My parents garage was stuffed full. I was not allowed to have a motorcycle. Hmmm… Two strikes against me. Just meant we had to haul all of the stuff over to Clints house and clear a spot for it in his garage.

It didn’t take long for us to come up with a very fitting name for the bike: POJ. Piece. Of. Junk. Pronounced “Podge”. It was trashed. Bent handlebars. Missing grips. No back tire. Engine seized. Airbox missing. Carb cover missing. Oil cable missing. Clutch lever missing. The bike was 30 years old, weighed a TON, the list could go on and on. I do believe its only saving grace was that it was MINE! Well, half mine anyways… I still wasn’t allowed to have a motorcycle, but it seems my parents were okay with me having HALF of a bike (maybe more like a ¼ of a bike, since there was only half a bike there!) as long as it didn’t come home.

Chapter 1: A New Beggining, An Old Story.

Its time. This is the story about me, motorcycles, and memories. We'll see how long I can keep this up for, but don't hold your breath- I don't do so well at continuing things like this.

A Brief introduction…

I like bikes. Really, I like anything with a motor. Sometimes as long as it has wheels the motor isn’t even necessary. My FAVOURITE thing, however, is when you combine two wheels and an engine. I have had a thing for bikes since around the age of 8, at which point in my life my parents informed me that motorcycles were the devil and I wouldn’t own one while I was living in their house. Turns out they were wrong, but we’ll get there in a minute.

I had ridden a bike or two- a neighbor had a PW50 that we would spend hours on going around and around and around and around their yard on. As I got a little bigger, I got more interested in 4 wheelers. Thankfully, the training wheels stage didn’t last very long, although I do have many fond memories of a certain Honda Fourtrax that we put several hundred miles on in, around, through, over, and across our small town- even somewhat legally. Well, it had a plate and was insured, anyways…

My motorcycling started in earnest when Clinton moved to town. Again, I wasn’t allowed to own a bike, but occasionally I was permitted to ride a friend’s around a bit. Well as it turned out, Clinton had the coolest little dirtbike I had ever seen- an early ’80 Honda CR60. Man did that thing go like stink!!! We rode it everywhere. In the alley, in his yard, in the church parking lot, in other alleys, out to the Ridge, out to the motocross track, on the south end of town when it was nothing more than a field, at Corner Lake, just everywhere. I got okay at riding, but I was kind of a chicken. I enjoyed tinkering almost more than riding. We soon outgrew the little 60, and Clinton bought a late ‘80’s YZ80 from my cousin. Now THAT was a fast bike!

The YZ opened up a whole new field for us. It was bigger, went faster, AND we still had the CR60, which meant we could BOTH ride at the same time!!! The CR was getting a bit small on me though, as I’ve always been about a foot taller than the average, and Clinton decided to buy a project bike. He hauled home a basket case Yamaha IT400. Took him a while, but after about a year, he got it together and running.

Imagine, if you will, going from a little YZ pushing maybe 26 horse power to a great big bike that was running around 60 horse power!!! It even had a speedometer so we knew just how stupid we were being.

After the IT400, there was a rapid succession of different bikes, sleds, and other toys including quads and good old Honda Odyssey’s, which was actually my first ever set of wheels. So it was, that at about age 15, I finally managed to get my very own half of a motorcycle.

Dad don't know jack.

Our local radio station had a contest last week, where you could write in and tell them why your father dont know jack.If they liked your letter, you could win 2 tickets to the Jack Johnson concert coming to Spokane this summer. I'm not big on going to concerts and stuff, but it got me thinking, and you know what? I dont think my dad knows jack! Sure, he knows how to change a tire, how to build a shed, plant a garden, fix a broxen frost free hydrant, test top secret tractors, and on and on and on,but does he know how much he taught me? Does he know I was watching when he built that shed, when he prepared his Sunday lessons,when he changed that tire? Does he know how much I appreciate the things he taught me? The time he spent showing me how to mow lawns so I could go earn my own money? Like I said, I dont think Dad knows jack. Well, Dad, now you know. Thank you for being you and teaching me all those things. Happy Fathers Day!

Apples sure dont fall far from the tree...

Turn my back for a second and hes got the whole top end torn off. (okay, not really, but he was sure bent on finding a bolt that his wrench would fit on!)

An ode to Mothers!

No, not an odour, although Moms have certainly dealt with more than their fair share of those. Plus, I'm not a hundred percent certain that this is an ode but the word ode implies something lovely and melodic and worthwile to me, something like my Mother, but she is so much more. She put me on the course to becoming what I am. She kept me on that course and spurred me on. She kept on even when it wasn't apprecieated or even wanted, or even when she met with extreme resistance. She was there when it mattered most. She is still there now that I've grown and gone, continuing to help and guide, and sharing that same excitement for life to a new generation of children to her- grandchildren. Mom, you are appreciated by your children and their spouses and childern. THANK YOU for all you have done for me!

Toy Box Tractors

My earliest memory of Grandma, was, of course, the “Tractor Grandma”. It was the highlight of our trip to get to the end of the road, as I literally thought it was at the time, and get to grandmas house! It always seemed like the drive took days and days and days and the road got worse and worse and worse. When the car would finally start slowing down on that bumpy gravel road that went straight into grandmas driveway (hence, the end of the road), I couldn’t wait to check out the tractors, cats, and toys, in that order. Oh, there was the tree house, and grandmas fabulous angel food cake with the peppermint ice cream, and the treks with grandma down to the beach to play with the Tonka toys and peddle boat, but the best part about visiting the Tractor Grandma was listening to her stories. The story about getting pulled over on the way to mutual activities in Murray’s big Bronco, the story of getting the combining done right before midnight on Saturday so they didn’t have to work on Sunday, stories of the glue bait (thats not the horses name, but it was like 25 when it finally went to the glue factory!) and of course, the stories of the cats. Grandma, Happy 85th birthday!

Blast from the past: Dipstick the dippy kitty.

So its been forever and a day since anyone has posted anything really, you know, good. (aside from the totally cute pics of isaacpunch and kadepunch over on TNT.) Anyways, i was rifling through my blog and noticed I had started a blog about Dipstick, but never posted it. Turns out, if you start one, save it, and try to post it later, it posts it to the date you started it. That was, uh.... a long time ago. Right. Copied, pasted, and added upon for your reading enjoyment.

Dipstick is a cat. A very dippy cat. Dipstick came into our lives about 3 months ago (like I said, a long time ago. When Dippy was 3 months old, we still thought he was a GIRL.), when her mommy cat disappeared and my wife took pitty on her. She was one of seven, and the only one with her distinctive markings. Sarah carefully bottle fed her and nurtured her and i got the lovely task of changing the poo-papers and bathing her daily. Dippy was a big hit with Isaac, who thinks anything that moves is cool. Especially if it has two wheels. I tried to name her (him) something cool, like Rotax, or Honda, or even 460 Big Block. In retrospect, Dipstick is a very fitting name. In more ways than one. Maybe its the fact that she (he) is an aboslute moron. Or the fact that her (his) face and paws are white like they got dipped in something. Or maybe even because she's (he's) always dipping in the toilet for her (his) drink of water. Dont you just love snuggling up to a soft fuzzy cat? Why is your face wet?

Fun with bikes!

Part of the Chantry Family Reunion- thems that gets bored with reunionizing sneaks away and makes a bunch of noise in the neighbors field! Even Olly was trying to air Bubbles out! If you look real close, you'll see my new helmet that Sarah got me for my birthday. Just came today!

Wierd.

You tell me. Think these two are related?

Scout Camp and sore feet

Well.... I'm tired. We had fun though! We left Newport around 5:00 and started hiking about 7:00. We hiked about 3 miles in, and by about 10:30 we gave up and set up camp right on the trail in the rain and the dark. It definately wasnt the best campsite, but everyone sure slept well! We woke up in the morning and broke camp. We stashed our packs and gear along the trail and hiked another mile up the trail which was covered in deadfall and broken trees- made for a fun hike! We didnt make it to the top of Hall mountian which was our intended destination. Made it back down safe and sound and stopped for ice cream in Metaline Falls! I dont know about Coreys car, but everyone in my car was out like a light for most of the drive home!

A Sampling

Digitals of the family pics steveo took for us today. Came out pretty good, hope the real ones come out better!

The last free weekend...

The last free weekend until August. Serious. We had fun though! Sarah, Steve, Eric, and I all went on the 'shortened' Selkirk loop. We left Newport around 10:30 and headed north on Hwy 20 to Tiger, then cut across the Tiger Hwy to Colville and ate at Ronnie D's! Experianced minor misting and rain on that leg. Enough that we had to stop at a thrift shop and by Sarah some new pants (that were dry) and a pair of rain pants. From there we headed south on 395 through Chewelah and on to Spokane. Between Chewelah and Spokane we experianced mondo mega super duper major amounts of rain. By this time I had about 3 inches of water in my boots. We stopped at another thrift store (spokane discount) and bought more rain gear and some dry shoes. Next stop was the General store, where we picked up a helmet for Sarah. After a quick stop at Arby's, we headed back up Hwy 2 to Newport. I think the trip was somewheres around 340 kms in about 9 hrs. It was a BLAST! Once we made it to Spokane the weather was pretty good too! Enjoy the pics!

Breaking it in.

They say if you ever get a new helmet, the very first thing you have to do with it is drop it. That way you're not affraid of scratching it. If thats the case, Isaac, Kade, Sarah, and Dipstick did an EXCELLENT job of breaking in Sarahs new couches. Dippy has been sent flying across the room twice (i'm not kidding.... she used a 700 page book each time, and had to glue the book back together the second time) for trying to claw it. Isaac and Kade have both applied liberal amounts of slime and slober, and Sarah, well, I havent been able to get her off of them yet. I guess thats a good sign?

A Definition of Abnormal.

This is a pictorial. You tell me. Is this normal?

This post HAS been pre-approved...

The Guys' Rules

At last a guy has taken the time to write this all down. Finally , the guys' side of the story.We always hear "the rules "From the female side. Now here are the rules from the male side.These are "our rules !Please note.. these are all numbered "1"ON PURPOSE!
1. Men ARE not mind readers.
1. Learn to work the toilet seat.You're a big girl. If it's up, put it down.We need it up, you need it down.You don't hear us complaining about you leaving it down.
1. Sunday sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides.Let it be.
1. Shopping is NOT a sport.And no, we are never going to think of it that way.
1. Crying is blackmail.
1. Ask for what you want.Let us be clear on this one: Subtle hints do not work!Strong hints do not work!Obvious hints do not work!Just say it!
1. Yes and No are perfectly Acceptable answers to almost every question.
1. Come to us with a problem only If you want help solving it. That's what we do.Sympathy is what your girlfriends are for.
1. Anything we said 6 months ago is inadmissible in an argument. In fact, all comments become null and void after 7 Days.
1. If you think you're fat, you probably are.Don't ask us.
1. If something we said can be interpreted two ways and one of the ways makes you sad or angry, we meant the other one
1. You can either ask us to do somethingOr tell us how you want it done.Not both.If you already know best how to do it, just do it yourself.
1. Whenever possible, Please say whatever you have to say during commercials.
1. Christopher Columbus did NOT need directions and neither do we.
1. ALL men see in only 16 colors, like Windows default settings.Peach, for example, is a fruit, not! A color. Pumpkin is also a fruit. We have no idea what mauve is.
1. If it itches, it will Be scratched.We do that.
1. If we ask what is wrong and you say "nothing," We will act like nothing's wrong.We know you are lying, but it is just not worth the hassle.
1. If you ask a question you don't want an answer to, Expect an answer you don't want to hear. 1. When we have to go somewhere, absolutely anything you wear Is fine... Really.
1. Don't ask us what we're thinking about unless you are prepared to discuss such topics as motorcycles, tools, and golf.
1. You have enough clothes
1. You have too many shoes.
1. I am in shape. Round IS a shape!
1. Thank you for reading this.Yes, I know, I have to sleep on the couch tonight;But did you know men really don't mind that? It's like camping.

Slinkies.

Some people are like Slinkies. They're really good for nothing, but they still bring a smile to your face when you push them down a flight of stairs.

Common Sense:

Your fences need to be horse-high, pig-tight, and bull-strong.
Keep skunks and bankers and lawyers at a distance.
Life is simpler when you plow around the stump.
A bumble bee is considerably faster than a John Deere tractor.
Words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled.
Meanness don’t jes’ happen overnight.

Forgive your enemies. It messes up their heads.
Do not corner something that you know is meaner than you.
It don’t take a very big person to carry a grudge.
You cannot unsay a cruel word.
Every path has a few puddles. When you wallow with pigs, expect to get dirty.

The best sermons are lived, not preached.
Most of the stuff people worry about ain’t never gonna happen, anyway.
Don’t judge folks by their relatives.
Remember that silence is sometimes the best answer.
Live a good, honorable life. Then when you get older and think back, you’ll enjoy it a second time.

Don’t interfere with somethin’ that ain’t botherin’ you none.
Timing has a lot to do with the outcome of a rain dance.
If you find yourself in a hole, the first thing to do is stop diggin’.
Sometimes you get, and sometimes you get got.
The biggest troublemaker you’ll probably ever have to deal with, watches you from the mirror every mornin’.”

Always drink upstream from the herd.
Good judgment comes from experience, and a lotta that comes from bad judgment.
Lettin’ the cat outta the bag is a whole lot easier than puttin’ it back in.
If you get to thinkin’ you’re a person of some influence, try orderin’ somebody else’s dog around. Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly. Leave the rest to God.

What is it with me....

It seems I cant leave anything alone. For instance, about 2 months ago, i bought a motorcycle. Yes, i know, what was i thinking? I actually paid money for a motorcycle? Well, its been a great two months and me and "Alice" have had a lot of fun. She recently developed a habit of smoking when She first starts up. Well, I says to myself, i can fix that. So, 45 minutes later, it goes from this:




to this:

So, in the meantime, I think to myself, this is a perfect opportunity to install my new 12 volt conversion kit, 12:1 high comp. piston, longer duration cam, and oversized carb. All this on the bike that was bone stock, and i was going to keep it that way because its such a high demand collectors item. (said tounge-in-cheek...) Well mom and dad, at least you know where i'll be when you get here....

Jetskis are for sissys.

http://webpages.charter.net/450f_rdr/K_W_hydro.wmv The title says it all.

Leaving the Lights on.

Whats with men and their garage? It seems like almost every man I know has a fascination with garages, a fascination akin to what most people consider the infatuation that men have for power tools. Okay, maybe not ALL men, but a lot of them.

A mans home is his castle? Uhh, no. Theres someone else in charge there. Don't get me wrong, bieng in charge is not all its cracked up to be. I would hate to be the one that has to get me to take out the garbage, vacuum, put up the backsplash, finish the basement, or whatever the case may be. The garage however, is MY castle. You can always slink away to the garage in dull moments, moments of happines, and sometimes moments of anger. Sometimes you can even sleep in your garage! I have yet to experience that, although I'm trying to talk Sarah into living in a big garage someday...

The trick, then, is to find ways in which you can cross the border from one kingdom to the next. Luckily, taking the garbage out leads down a path that goes right past the garage! I also like to hedge my bets: if I ever DO make it out to the garage, I "accidentally" leave the lights on. A staple in our house is, "I'll be right back, I have to go turn the lights off in the garage. See you in an hour"