100 Mile An Hour Hair Cut

Les Duncan

The heat was brutal the day i left, almost enough to think about stripping off the leather and riding without, but the fear of serious road rash with no skin left to graft from, has always been enough for me wear it no matter how hot it is. Besides, heading north it would only be a day or two of real heat before the things cooled down a little.

Maybe i'm just paranoid, but after 24 years of riding, it keeps me alive. If the word paranoid is one that you choose, then the colour of my bike will confirm it for you. The first day after painting it, i had a guy in the right lane in front of me with his right signal on, about to hang a left. After a few years of riding you acquire a kind of sixth sense of them if you are watching. I was ready for him to do so when i saw him do a double take from my brightness screaming in his rear view mirrors. He slowed down, stayed in the right lane until i had passed him and then hung his left from the right lane. I knew then that the colour worked.

Moving across country by motorcycle is a little like packing for a three month vacation and only having a small carry on bag to put it in. The dog's box took up most of the available space on my bike for packing, so i put a roof on it so i had somewhere to put small light things. It took very little effort to train Fiest to ride on the back of my bike. I have had her since she was 6 weeks old, and have taken her almost everywhere with me. She trusts me implicitly, and except for the idea that she would rather ride up front, than in back, is among the best passengers I have ever ridden with. The she in question is a 7 year old, 65 lb. Rottwieller/Shepard cross.

After three days of very pleasurable riding through Ontario and some of the best scenery in the country, i crossed the border into Manitoba. No great trip is complete without some trouble, and Thunder Bay to the border was it. The three week old after market mufflers that i installed just before leaving, broke on one side and i was just able to hold it in place with my foot while i slowed down and pulled over. Being in the north country where people are truly helpful, the gentleman driving behind me saw it happen, pulled over, placed the muffler in the back of his truck and had me follow him into town where a friend of his welded it back together for free. A big thank you to them and all other Samaritans on the road everywhere.

Shortly after that i was pulled over by an O.P.P. who i guess was having a bad day. He told me that carrying a dog on the back of my bike was illegal and what the hell did i think i was doing anyway? When i informed him that i had checked before i started to find out that it was not illegal, he got really upset. He got on the radio and after finding out that he could not charge me for riding with a dog, he threatened to give me a ticket for no helmet on my passenger.

Now i was getting mad, but i told him to write it up and i would bring the dog into court to see what the judge would have to say about it. His eyes were smoking when he told me to get on my bike and get the hell out of there. He followed me for miles but i was pleased with having my rear end covered. I hope he had a better day after that, but i feel sorry for the next guy he pulled over. I breathed a big sigh of relief when i crossed the border knowing that for the rest of the trip, i would be dealing with the R.C.M.P. and if nothing else the horsemen (and women) are pro's, no offence meant to other police forces (yea, paranoid).

Other than small maintenance problems (even though i am a computer wizard, i still stay with points, plugs, and condensors for my old boxer twin thank you) the only other problem was a strange vibration in Saskatchewan. Riding a straight flat road, i couldn't figure out what was happening until i looked over my shoulder to find that my dog was doing the old ear scratching routine because she had picked up fleas, causing the shudder i was feeling. Next town she was flea sprayed immediately, and the bike quit its weird wobbling.

After learning through overnight camping that Ontario has nothing over Manitoba when it comes to mosquitoes, and that there is true joy watching the miles fly by through the prairie provinces, i got to some of the best riding in Canada, B.C.'s mountains. My second morning in B.C. at a campsite in the central part of the province, my dog got me up early with her hackles up and snarling. We came out of the tent and she started serious barking as i watched a black bear about 25 feet away turn and go the other way. I am sure that it did so because it did not want trouble from the dog, and although she was making a real ruckus, she was not advancing towards it either. I am sure that it was her presence that turned the bear away and not for the first time was grateful that i had brought her. Whether it's a bear or another person, she did not like anyone near her bike, and that alone made the hassle of bringing her well worth while. Nothing can compare to riding here and although the employment figures seem to prove me otherwise, work was as hard to find here as it was in Ontario. Working i am though, and truly enjoying living in B.C. My dog made out fine regardless of my worrying about and daily checking her eyes and ears. She has now swam in both oceans, and set paw in every province in this wonderful country. She still gets mad at me every time i ride without her, even if it is only downtown and back, and is fondly remembered in lots of places as the dog with the 100 mile an hour hair cut. Happy riding, and remember just because you might be paranoid, that does not mean that everyone is not out to get you. Ride like that and you will ride for many years of good miles. Les Duncan

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