It’s been a long time since I wrote anything here, but I thought it was important to show the postscript to my WA BDR shenanigans. I wound up raising enough money to repay the Chelan County Sheriff’s Deputy who pulled my bike back up to the road in September of ’17. He pulled my bike out using a come-along strap and his truck, which seemed like way too much work for someone in his position to have to do, so I and a few other contributors (Thank you all!) bought him a winch for his patrol truck. This photo was taken in November of 2017, so I’d like to think it has saved him some effort along the way.
Thanks again, Deputy McLeod. Hopefully we’re close to even, now.
We’ve all been told that if you write down your goals you will be more likely to complete them. In that spirit I’m going to write down my goals for 2016 (some already completed). This will be a wish list. Not all of these things will happen, but I intend to work toward these goals. Read More
Part of why I love my riding club so much is their eagerness to give back to the community. Between donating to charity as a group, organizing charity events, and escorting charity rides, I’d like to think we do a good job. There is one venue, however, that I think is more impactful than all of the others. It’s also the hardest to orchestrate: Skills days. Read More
“If we locked up every male from ages 16 to 25, crime would essentially end overnight” argues attorney Mark Geragos. He has a point. We commit more than 90% of the murders in this nation, mostly in that age range. Between these ages the male’s prefrontal cortex is undergoing massive changes, leading to irrational decisions and increased risk taking. He’s also full of testosterone and likely fairly competitive. Since locking them up isn’t feasible, we shouldn’t come down so hard on them for how their biology leads them to act. We should give them motorcycles. Read More
I was 23 years old when I first saw someone die. He had been riding a motorcycle in the opposite direction I had been riding on Highway 522 in Woodinville, behaving much the same as I had. Riding fast, doing the occasional wheelie, etc. The difference was that he lost control, hit a guardrail and fell 20 feet onto a rocky median. The force of the accident had torn his shoes from his feet. His red CBR finally came to rest almost a quarter mile down the highway. I saw people surrounding someone on the side of the road and, being trained by Boy Scouts to help any time I could, I stopped. I remember standing 20 feet from this person so remarkably similar to myself, unable to bring myself to face the reality that he was dying until another Good Samaritan told me he didn’t think the guy was going to live long enough for the paramedics to show up. Read More
As a part of writing here, I’ve had to dig through my files and pictures to find things to write about. The thing that strikes me most is how hard I had to work to earn my favorite memories, and also how grateful I am that I did. Read More
I read an article in the New York Times this morning concerning allowing girls into the Boy Scouts of America. I have to say that I’m staunchly against it, but not for the reasons you might assume. Read More
On Memorial Day, 2014, I sustained an injury that changed my life. I was working as a delivery driver for a garbage company in Seattle, building a life for myself and my then-girlfriend now-fiancee. While wrestling with a 2 yard dumpster half-filled with concrete I managed to tear my bicep out of my shoulder. That injury threw my life into disarray immediately. I went from working 55-70 hours per week and making good money to puking from painkillers and icing my arm for the next 18 months. In this time I realized that it was unlikely I’d be allowed to go back to my old job, so I had to formulate a plan for my remaining years. Going from rigid structure and never-ending workdays to zero structure and nothing but free time has been a tremendous challenge, so I’ve decided to build structure back into my life. This blog is one of the ways I intend to do that. Read More