Metaphor Via Ratbike.org

If you’re not a motorcyclist the use of the Rat Bike as a metaphor for our state may be obscure.

At many major bike rallies a prize will be given to the worst looking, most cobbled together, leakiest, duct-taped, smokiest, ill-running motorcycle that managed to rattle to the rally.

The proud owner of this beast boasts of his accomplishments…the ‘rattle-can’ paint job, the mis-matched parts from other brands of motorcycles, and the message on his tank: “Chrome Don’t Get You Home.” But neither, often, does the rat bike.

What drives the rat-biker is the desire to maintain his old scoot as cheaply as possible, even if he has to put up with balding tires, dangerous brakes, and questionable handling.

All of us, in Arizona, are owners of our rat-bike state. Like the the biker dude at the rally we would rather put up with the inconveniences and possible long-term consequences of rat-bike-hood than pay for anything better.

Raise taxes? God forbid. So we elect rat-bike legislators who are committed to tax loopholes that drain the treasury and support our steadfast refusal to pay for anything better.

Nice bike, bro!

Still a Fascinating Ride

My long distance riding season runs from about mid-May to mid-October. Those are the months when I am most likely to throw a leg over one of my motorcycles and head out to a Rally; or simply  take a few days off to wander America’s blue highways.

The best guide books for the kind of riding I enjoy most were launched in 1935, long before the interstate highway system was established. They are the books in the American Guides Series, written during the heart of the great depression by the Federal Writers Project, a program of the WPA.

Guides were written for each of the forty-eight states, plus Alaska, Puerto Rico and Washington DC.

Each volume followed the same pattern. The writers and researchers (over 6000 in all) wrote essays on the history,  culture and folklore of each state, described the major cities, and developed a series of motor tours covering virtually all of the state’s roads (many of them unpaved) and major attractions.

The collections of black and white photographs that grace each book are wonderful.

We tend to lose sight of the fact that it wasn’t until the mid 1930s  that you could actually drive from coast to coast on paved roads. The development of “motor touring” required a whole new kind of guide book. If you traveled from Chicago to Phoenix in 1900 you took the train. You might want a guide to Chicago or a guide to Phoenix but you didn’t need a guide to all the “in between places.”

These books are fascinating today… capturing as they do the feel and texture of our near past.  They are perfect companions for a few days of relaxed touring.

A number of well-known American writers took part in this project. Among the names you might recognize are: Conrad Aiken, Saul Bellow, John Cheever, Loren Eisley, Ralph Elison, Nelson Algren, John Steinbeck, Studs Terkel, Richard Wright, and Frank Yerby…to mention only a few.

I believe that many of the Guides included official road maps. My cherished and battered guide to New Mexico included a 1942 state roadmap and I’ve ridden many of its roads…only now, of course, the roads are paved.

New Year’s Day Was Chilly (Click “The Data Port” to read this post)

Here are some pics of the traditional ride to Windy Point. It seemed cold enough for icicles to form on the bikes. Or was there something wrong with the camera?

Icicles?

It was a fair turnout, with 35 bikes at the top. Not much in the way of riding chic as everyone was bundled up…many layers and a fair amount of heated riding gear.

Outside Mickey D's

Windy Point

Stephany Baldwin, a single cylinder fan, was there on her Honda.

Technical Note: My previous post appears on the Citizen website, but if you click on the post’s title nothing comes up. The link to The Data Port works, however, so you can get to the last post of the year by clicking there. Nothing to be done until our two editors return from vacation.

In the meantime it seems that no one is minding the store.