Could it be?

Hard as it may be to believe, but we're having a white Christmas in central Virginia!

OK, it was actually Christmas Eve, and it was more like a little white on a mostly green and brown landscape, but I'll take it. We managed to have some heavy flurries that, for an hour or so, stuck to the grassy areas of my property until the rains came and washed it away. Unlike the midwest, we're not getting covered with a cloak of white this holiday season.

That's not all bad, though. With highs in the 40s today, it was another decent opportunity to ride. I headed west along familiar roads through Culpeper and Orange counties.

Historic Orange, Virginia, railroad station on Christmas day 2012.

Spot 2 GPS Messenger

I used the opportunity to conduct a shakedown test of my new Spot 2 GPS Messenger, a tracking device that sends out signals at regular intervals so friends can see where you're going and rescue personnel can locate you in case of an emergency.

Most long distance motorcyclists use a Spot to reassure friends and family while they're on the road, and many competitive endurance rallies require it. I've never used one before, but thought it was time to try it. Besides, there was a rebate program, so the financial risk was pretty small.

The signals sent out by the device are plotted on a Google maps page, so people can see in near-real time where you are. The rider can either share the page openly, share it with select friends, or keep it completely private.

It's not a perfect system, and my results for today's ride were incomplete, perhaps somewhat due to my unfamiliarity with the Spot. I'm planning a multi-day trip that should show off its functions a bit better, once I get the hang of it.

A Spot page showing part of my Christmas day ride.

But I digress. For today was one for enjoying another couple of hours in the saddle, nestled as it was between two days of nasty weather. Yesterday was cold and wet. Tomorrow's forecast calls for ice pellets and freezing rain, perhaps a bit of snow after dark. We must take opportunities as they come and make the best of them. I'm now warm in my house, my GS is parked safely in my garage, and dinner is cooking. Not a bad day so far.

Slaughter of the innocents

Each workday, I follow winding, tree-lined Brock Road past scattered houses and an elementary school on my way to and from work. It's a nice drive in a car, a fun one on a motorcycle. Deer occasionally cross my path, so it's wise to stay alert on the entire 10-mile stretch.

Brock Road Elementary School is one of the landmarks along the semi-rural route. In the morning, I'm always passing it while children are arriving, so there are many cars pulling in and out of the parking lot, and a 25 mph speed limit in force. Oftentimes on my ride, I'll come upon a school bus stopping to pick up small children, seemingly smaller than their backpacks, at some of the driveways that abut the road.

On my way home, the school is nearly deserted, though I've used its covered front entrance as shelter during bad storms while on my bike. More than once, I've sat on the bench outside the main entrance as thunder and lightning played out just yards away. More than once, the principal or other school staff have invited me to come inside and out of the weather, but I've always declined, content to sit under the roof line until the storm eased. Such has been my interaction with that school, and those were honestly my only thoughts of it.

Until last Friday. The ferocious, barbaric attack on innocent children, teachers, and administrators at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, Connecticut, changed all that. I can't imagine passing Brock Road Elementary on my commute without thinking about that carnage. I can't imagine watching those small children climb onto the buses without seeing the faces of those killed by yet another madman with yet another cache of high-capacity, high-caliber weapons.

We can and we should talk about banning assault weapons and high-capacity magazines. We can and we should talk about keeping weapons of mass murder out of the hands of those with mental issues. We can and we should tighten background checks that are inconsistently enforced on those buying guns at gun shows or from individuals.

But we have to do more. We have to look at the kind of culture we have become. Make no mistake, I believe in both the first and second amendments. However, just as I believe the second amendment doesn't mean we should all have access to AR-15s, I think we need to think twice before exposing our children to the most vile and violent video games, movies, and other media.

When I was going to high school in a 1970s-era semi-rural suburb of Chicago, some of my classmates would come to school with a rifle or shotgun hanging on the rack in their pickup truck. There was never a thought that would be a problem. They were coming to school after going hunting in the early morning before school, or they were going hunting after school. The idea that one of them would ever use a weapon against a schoolmate or teacher was as alien as imagining one of us was the king of France.

What has changed? Murder and mayhem are now seen as the basis for numerous video games aimed at children. It's hard to get through a television program without seeing commercials for shoot-'em-up war games.

Lethal violence is perfectly acceptable in PG-13 movies, but if a breast appears on the screen, that brings an R rating. Suggestions of sex are restricted for those under 17, but slash-and-gash horror is considered good fun for tweens and younger.

Maybe I'm becoming an old coot, but things really have changed since I was a kid. Sure, there were scary movies, but the violence was suggested and almost never actually shown. We would get scared, but we wouldn't get desensitized. We didn't get used to seeing dead bodies as just another element in a game.

When I first saw "Saving Private Ryan," the graphic violence of the D-Day landings -- a plot element necessary to understand the horror of war -- brought tears to my eyes and I found it hard not to weep openly. By contrast, this type of violence is the raison d'etre of too many games, movies, and television shows.

So, what to do? I have no quick or easy answers. I truly hope those in power, and even more importantly, those of us who put those people in power, will rally to find some rational and responsible actions and then take them.

As for me, I will write letters, I will communicate with my representatives in Congress and beyond, and I will appreciate just a little more every child I see climbing aboard a school bus on my commute. I don't have children of my own, but I hope those of you who do will give them a hug and a kiss every day. They are your blessing and our country's hope.

Even more thanks

74 degrees Fahrenheit.

On December 3.

My day off.

Do I really need to say anything else?

Downtown Culpeper, Virginia, Monday, December 3, 2012. Amazing.

It was another wonderful day of riding in the Virginia Piedmont, with a stop at the Barbecue Exchange in Gordonsville, Virginia, for lunch. I felt like I had moved to South Carolina, only without the crazy politicians.

Giving thanks

Ah, Thanksgiving. Time to enjoy good food, friends, and family and reflect on our good fortune. So, herewith, a few thoughts.

I'm thankful for days as nice as this one, with clear skies and temperatures near 60F. Today, I rode some of my favorite roads through the rolling hills and valleys of the Virginia Piedmont, took some pictures of Old Rag Mountain -- I still find it hard to believe I've actually climbed it -- and just enjoyed the afternoon.

Old Rag, regarded as the toughest climb in Virginia, looms over farm fields in Madison County.

I'm thankful for the re-election of a president who has a brain, believes in science and fairness, and works harder than some in recent memory. None of us, including me, agrees with President Obama all the time on everything, but he may well be the best president of my lifetime, and I've been around for a while. Long enough to remember John Kennedy, whose death we remember today.

President John Kennedy

Such promise, so many possibilities for true greatness, cut down way too early in life. Thinking of his presidency, I'm thankful he had the courage to handle the Cuban missile crisis thoughtfully and bring it to a close without starting a war with the Soviet Union. Some hotheads on the scene today -- John McCain, I'm talking to you -- could well have ended civilization as we knew it had they been in power.

I'm thankful to have a decent job, health insurance, and no real worries about my living situation. I know how lucky I am. I'm not rich, but I can put food on the table, cover my mortgage, and pay my bills. There are plenty of people who cannot say the same.

I'm thankful for those who serve our country, in uniform and behind the scenes. I'm fortunate to know many such individuals, and they are the best of the best.

I'm thankful the Redskins drafted Robert Griffin III, if only to see him lead the team to victory against the Cowboys in Dallas on Thanksgiving :-) Honestly, RG III is amazing to watch, and incredible when you consider he's a rookie.

Robert Griffin III celebrates with the crowd after a touchdown.

I'm thankful for all who fight for historic preservation. Living where I do, amid Civil War battlefields and homes that date to our colonial predecessors, it's hard for me to imagine not appreciating history, but my conversations with other people bear witness to the fact that not all realize the debt we owe our ancestors.

I'm thankful for writers of history, like Robert Caro, whose four volume (so far) biography is my current read. The depth of research and thus transmitted information in these books is extraordinary. I'm on the third volume right now, and I'm learning more about American politics of the twentieth century than I could have imagined.

I'm thankful for more than I could possibly relate here. I hope you have too many blessings in your life to list them all, too. Did I mention beating Dallas?

Miles of smiles

Some days are just made for riding; today was one of those days.

On a clear day with incredible blue skies, I took a few hours to wander the countryside on my BMW R 1150 GS. My primary goal was to document a mileage mark -- hitting 170,000 miles on the odometer. Four miles from my house, I stopped to record the moment (right).

I've never ridden one motorcycle that many miles before. In fact, the most I've ever put on one bike was about 67,000 on a K 75 RT years ago, so every day is a new record for me. My eventual goal is to eclipse my vehicle record, 187K and change on a 1991 VW GTI, then head for 200K.

With that duty out of the way, I headed west to spend a couple of hours in the saddle. Riding through the town of Orange, I decided to go ahead and cast my vote for the November elections. Early voting started in Virginia last week, and I may be out of the area on election day, so I dropped in at the registrar's office and recorded my vote.

From Orange, I continued southwest on Virginia Rt. 20, a beautiful route through the Virginia Piedmont, and made a brief stop to note the location of The Wreck at the Fat Nancy, a state landmark.

The Fat Nancy was a railroad trestle spanning the area shown at right. Fat Nancy was a name given to an African-American woman who lived nearby and kept watch for problems at the trestle site. As the Piedmont Airline, Virginia Midland Railroad's Train 52, crossed the 44-foot-high, 487-foot-long trestle on July 12, 1888, the bridge collapsed, killing nine and injuring another two dozen passengers. Among the survivors was former Confederate Lt. General James Longstreet.

A little farther south on Rt. 20 lies Montpelier, the home of Virginia native and American President James Madison. The road is called the Constitution Route in honor of Madison's key role in creating the document that governs our nation.

Montpelier is also the site of an original freedman's cabin, a home built and lived in by former slaves of the Montpelier plantation.

George Gilmore built the cabin in 1873 from remains of a Confederate camp nearby. His story is an inspiring one, and you can read the details here.

Also in the area is Montpelier Station, a railroad depot and post office that has been restored as a fully-functioning post office and museum on the days of segregation.

The exterior of the building is beautifully preserved, and the post office occupies the far end of the building as seen in this picture.

The near end includes separate "white" and "colored" entrances and waiting rooms, as was the norm before the end of racial segregation in the 1960s.

Inside the waiting rooms are exhibits explaining the sordid past of our American apartheid. For those not alive during that time, it must be a real eye-opener.

I remember the department store we frequented when I was a child in Alexandria, Virginia, having separate drinking fountains, but I don't recall seeing the level of apartheid preserved here, other than on TV news.


Though I lived in the South, I was still sheltered from the worst of life as a black American.

Across the highway is another nicely preserved building, this one an Esso gas station. For those too young to remember, Esso was the previous name of Exxon, and was created by using the initials of the original company, Standard Oil -- S.O. becomes Esso. If you're riding in the area, you almost have to stop for a photo.

After roaming the countryside for a bit, I found my way to Madison, Virginia, named for -- of course -- the former president.

One of the attractions of that small town is the Pig 'n' Steak restaurant, a well-known purveyor of BBQ and other tasty meats.

Today, I chose a pork BBQ platter with macaroni salad and cole slaw, accompanied by the only beverage allowed to be consumed with BBQ in Virginia -- sweet tea. I'm joking, but it almost should be the law; it's certainly the overwhelming practice.

Combine that meal with a good book (currently Means of Ascent, the second volume in Robert Caro's biographical series on Lyndon Johnson), and you have a recipe for a nice, relaxing lunch in a cozy setting. Just be careful about the sauces on the table. A couple of them are pretty hot!


After lunch, I headed out on Rt. 231, one of the finest country roads anywhere. Known locally as the Old Blue Ridge Turnpike, it's a Virginia Scenic Byway and well worth a trip just to experience it.

After spending Sunday doing yard work, it was great to spend some time in the saddle on a perfect fall afternoon. The crisp air and scattered leaves in the roadway are proof the season is changing, and we're entering prime time for real motorcyclists. Maybe that's why I'm smiling so much tonight...

Lyin' Ryan

Well, there he goes again.

Republican vice presidential nominee Paul Ryan has been caught in yet another lie, this one acutely personal. Ryan, a fitness buff, had previously claimed his best time in the marathon was around 2 hours and 50 minutes, a very good time for even elite athletes. A little too good for Paul Ryan, as it turns out.

Runner's World magazine did a little poking around, and discovered that Ryan's best time was actually 4 hours, 1 minute, and 25 seconds. Oopsie.

As a former athlete -- bicycling, tennis, and volleyball -- I can tell you nobody who cares about competition would make a mistake like that about a world class marathon time. I can also tell you only the worst of athletes lie about their supposed accomplishments.

If this was the only time Paul Ryan confused fantasy and reality, it could be dismissed as merely a braggart boosting his own self-inflated ego. But this falls into a familiar pattern for Ryan. For years, he's been lying about his own positions and those of his political opponents, and this year's election campaign has only served to highlight his mendacity.

For example:

Medicare
Ryan and the Republicans claim President Obama "steals" $716 billion from Medicare recipients. In reality, President Obama's plan for Medicare saves over $700 billion in wasteful payments to hospitals and other providers over the next ten years, but does not reduce care for patients at all. And Ryan's own plan for Medicare starts with the same $700+ billion savings, then cuts more from actual programs, like prescription "donut hole" costs.

Welfare
Ryan and the Republicans claim President Obama is "gutting" the workfare system, an outright lie that has been rebuked by literally every independent arbiter in the business.

Jobs
Ryan spoke movingly about a GM plant in his native Janesville, Wisconsin, being closed despite promises by candidate Obama to keep it open. Couple of problems with that -- Obama gave a speech there in March of 2008 and GM announced in June 2008 it was closing the plant. Obama wasn't even president when GM announced the plant closure!

Speaking of GM
Ryan and ticket-leader Mitt Romney don't seem to mention the auto industry turnaround very often. Perhaps it's because President Obama oversaw the successful salvation of the American auto industry and saved millions of jobs rather than letting the companies go bankrupt, as Romney very publicly advised.

Simpson-Bowles
Much has been said by Paul Ryan about the Simpson-Bowles Commission and its suggestions for ending the deficit impasse in Washington, to wit:

"He [President Obama] created a bipartisan debt commission. They came back with an urgent report. He thanked them, sent them on their way, and then did exactly nothing."

Ryan leaves out the part about him being on the commission, about him voting against the report, and about him leading the House opposition to its conclusions. Perhaps if Ryan had been more interested in helping the country than his narrow political interests, we might have made more progress on our economic situation.

The Republicans are now pushing the question, "Are you better off now than you were four years ago?" They figure this is their key to winning the election, and they'll do everything they can to convince American voters we're on the road to disaster.

You won't hear the Republicans pointing out that President Obama staunched the bleeding of jobs lost under Republican George W. Bush. When Obama took office, we were losing hundreds of thousands of jobs per month. In January 2009, the last month under Bush, we lost more manufacturing jobs than any month since October 1982! Under President Obama, America has added more than 4,000,000 jobs. That's not enough, but it's a beginning of a turnaround from the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression.

The Affordable Care Act (aka Obamacare) has added 30 million or so Americans to the ranks of those covered by health insurance. As time passes, it will help bring down costs while increasing coverage.

Democrats are usually criticized for being soft on national defense, but under President Obama, the leadership of Al Qaeda has been decimated, including the death of Osama bin Laden, public enemy #1. Obama has ended the war in Iraq, and is working to bring home our troops in Afghanistan,. For the record, neither conflict was deemed worth mentioning during Romney's nomination acceptance speech.

America is demonstrably better off now than under George Bush. We're not where we want to be, but we're on the way. We'd be further along if Republicans had not vowed in the first days of President Obama's presidency to oppose everything he attempted, solely to deny him any chance at a second term. Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell admitted that on national TV.

At least he wasn't lying...

The end is nigh...

I rode home from work in the dark last night.

That's not really any big deal, as I ride at night all the time. But this is the time of year when the coming of fall, and thus winter, makes itself evident.

Thursday evening, our late night at the dealership, I was heading out the door when I noticed it had gotten almost dark. It was at that dusky stage where the sun has just set but there's still light in the sky. During my 25-mile ride home, it became fully dark, so I actually arrived at my house at night.

And thus draws to a close another summer. I know it's not really gone yet. There are still more hours of daytime than night, the air still shimmers with the warmth of the season (though fortunately not the pavement-melting 100+ temps of mid-summer), and the ice cream stands still have lines at their service windows.

But it's coming. Sure as night follows day, fall and winter will follow summer. Unless... Do you remember the movie Endless Summer? The 1966 film followed a pair of surfers around the world as they pursued perfect surfing conditions no matter the date on the calendar. The basic premise was, if you had enough time and money, you could stay in summer ALL the time.

Few of us have that kind of money, of course. I like to think that, if I did have that kind of money, I'd certainly find the time.

I wouldn't surf, though. I'd ride and ride and ride and ride. In between rides, I'd put my bike on a plane or a ship, and transport it to the next continent on my list. What a journey that would be!

Believe it or not, there are plenty of people doing exactly that. The world is their riding area, and they are making the most of it. Some have retired from a lifetime of work, some have cashed in their 401(k) plans to finance their trip, some are students or recent graduates taking every penny (or Euro or Yen, or whatever) they can scrape together and making the journey of a lifetime. It is possible, though not easy.

Which brings me to Stecoah, North Carolina. I'm quite certain you've never heard of Stecoah, as it barely exists, on or off a map. It's a tiny community set in the shadow of Great Smoky Mountains National Park, a place you ride through to get somewhere else.

But not on the weekend of September 7-9, 2012. That weekend, at the Ironhorse Lodge nestled back in a holler, a band of globetrotting motorcyclists will gather for a Horizons Unlimited Travelers Meeting. This bunch of bikers comes from all over the world, with one mission in mind -- to meet fellow travelers (not the 1950s Communist version) who love to meet those of similar interests and exchange information and experiences. That weekend, there will be presentations on trips from North America to India; classes on how to use your GPS to its best capabilities; how to fix that flat tire in the middle of nowhere, and much more.

But mostly, there will be fun. Old friends will reunite, new friends will meet, drinks will be drunk, meals will be shared. Afterwards, the riders will be on their way, either back home to dream and plan or down the road to the next chapter of their adventure.

If you can't actually be on the road living your adventure, you can be planning it, safe and snug in your home. And is there any better place to be -- barring an endless summer, of course -- when cold weather comes?

Game on

So, it's to be Romney-Ryan.

As others have noted, this will at least give voters a clear choice this November. While Romney has been credited by some as making a bold choice, I see this as more a sign of desperation.

This is the kind of selection you make when, even after all the primaries, you still cannot solidify the support of those within your own party who form the base -- in this case, the most conservative elements of the already-conservative Republican party. Taking fire from the right, Romney has once again surrendered and given them what they want. This isn't the bold choice of a leader, this is a weak person trying to get the mean kids to like him. When you're counting on the VP pick to bring charisma to the team, that says something about the top of the ticket.

I suspect this will work for Romney in the short term. The right-wingers and neo-conservatives, eager to grab the levers of power in Washington they held under George W. Bush and sensing they have a candidate they can push around, will now line up behing the double R ticket. But will America? I doubt it.

The folks in the Obama campaign are as happy about this pick as the right wingers. They'd been hoping to wrap Romney in the deeply-flawed Ryan budget plan this fall, and Romney has now done their work for them. What a stroke of luck!

Expect a campaign highlighting the true effects of the Ryan -- er, I mean the Romney -- plan upon the majority of Americans. When voters learn what is really on tap should the Republicans win, the thinking goes, they will be even more inclined to vote Democratic.

Already falling far behind among women and minority voters, it would seem the Romney campaign has now mostly written off any chance of increasing their share of those voting blocks. As an Obama supporter, I'm happy to see them doing that, of course, but I don't think that attitude is best for our country. I'd prefer both campaigns actually try to appeal to the broad majority of our citizens rather than try to put together just enough of various fragments to create a 50.1% whole.

With any luck, this will carry over to Congressional elections, as well. Democrats, who had hoped to pick up a few seats in the House and hold their own in the Senate, now think they may have an unexpected edge in a number of contests. We can only hope.

Game Change, a book written by esteemed journalists John Heilemann and Mark Halperin, documented the decision by John McCain to select Sarah Palin as his choice for Vice President. They talked about how the McCain campaign hoped her selection would change the dynamics of the race and, for a time, it did. Eventually, however, the truth about Sarah Palin came out, and she was seen as one of the worst choices ever for a national ticket. We shall see what the selection of Paul Ryan means in the end.

Insert clever title here...

Writer's block is a funny thing, or some I'm told by actual writers.

I don't claim to be much of a writer, though I've worked as a writer and editor. I can write, but I don't have to write. I don't live to write and that, to me, is the difference. I know how to put words together, how to arrange sentences, how to tell a story. But I'm not an artist. Even when I was a professional photographer, I knew I was more of a craftsman than an artist.

I've known a lot of artists through the years, and I'm not sure I'd want to be one. While I sometimes envy the single-minded dedication to their art, I think I prefer a more balanced and less stressful existence than what I witnessed with my friends. But it would be nice to create some art, just once.

It's been a while since I've written a blog entry. Most of the summer, actually. It's not that I haven't had ideas. The way the presidential campaign is going, I'd have to be unconscious not to come up with something. My Washington Nationals are still in first place in the National League East, which is truly amazing and certainly exciting, and my motorcycle travels have given me some interesting topics to explore.

So, I'm back at the keyboard and ready to get back to boring you with my non-artistic ramblings. Don't say I didn't warn you.

A Washington Renaissance?

The future may, indeed, be here in Washington. I'm not talking about politics, or diplomacy, or economics. I'm talking sports.

The Washington Nationals, consistent cellar-dwellers in the national League East, have been in first place since the beginning of the season. As I write this, they have beaten the defending NL East champion Philadelphia Phillies seven times straight. They've also won eight of nine series this year, losing only to the best-in-baseball LA Dodgers.

The Washington Capitals are tied in their Stanley Cup second round playoff series against the NY Rangers after dispatching the defending champion Boston Bruins in the first round.

The Washington Redskins, mired in mediocre season after season, have just drafted perhaps the best quarterback in the country, reigniting fan interest and hope for the years ahead.

The Washington Wizards, perennially one of the worst teams in the NBA, are still one of the worst teams in the NBA. You can't have everything.

Perhaps the Nationals are the best story so far. The Capitals are always decent, and they get into the playoffs pretty frequently. The Redskins have had promising off-seasons before, and we won't know the results of their draft selections until the fall.

But the Nats are showing big promise day after day, game after game, and they have some young players making a big difference in the team's prospects. Stephen Strasburg, one of the most gifted pitchers in a generation, continues playing well after surgery on his arm. His record this year does not reflect his pitching; too often, the team has saved its run scoring until the late innings, after he's been relieved.

The big story of the Nats' year may be Bryce Harper, a 19 year-old phenom outfielder. He's shown real batting chops, getting key hits and also being patient enough to work the count to a walk in critical situations. On base is on base. Better to get to first via a walk than to strike out on close pitches most young players would attack.

 Bryce Harper doubles home the winning run against the Diamondbacks.

Harper's arm is a real stunner, though. In his first-ever major league game, against the aforementioned Dodgers, he caught a long fly ball near the warning track in left field. The runner on third tagged and sprinted towards home. Harper uncorked a perfect strike to the catcher, who tagged the runner just before he reached home plate. The umpire called the runner safe, but replays showed Harper had actually thrown him out. You don't always get the call, but the camera doesn't lie. That was the kind of major league throw most pro outfielders could never make, and Harper did it on his first play. He's made similar throws since, and consistently shows a maturity beyond his years. He's a joy to watch in a game.

I'm hoping the teams of Washington will play well enough this year to generate fan interest throughout the area. Anything to relieve the drone of partisanship we're sure to face 'til November and beyond...

Mr. Sincerity

Remarkable.

That's just one of the words that come to mind listening to Mitt Romney give his primary victory speech tonight. Other words include ballsy, incredible, untrue, and insulting.

Taken on its own, it was a good political speech, full of promises and visions of a future of wonderfulness. Taken in context with everything else Romney has said this campaign, it was so full of contradictions and reversed positions, it's a wonder his tongue didn't tie itself into knots.

Literally within days of praising the so-called Ryan plan -- that grossly one-sided financial giveaway to large corporations and rich people -- which would, among other things, double student loan interest rates and cut food stamps, Romney tried to portray himself as the champion of families struggling on food stamps and under the weight of student debt.

This is par for the course for Romney. His whole political career has been rife with changed positions left and right to suit whatever audience he's addressing and whatever office he's seeking. It seems appropriate he's performing political gymnastics as the summer Olympic Games draw nearer.

He's not alone, of course. Just last week, former NY mayor and long-time putz Rudi Giuliani heartily endorsed Romney's candidacy. A couple months ago, Giuliani said of Romney that he'd never seen a politician take so many different sides of issues, changing his position "on a dime." Such rank political hypocrisy is why so many citizens are fed up with politics.

And that's exactly what the pols want. Get those decent people exasperated and convinced that nothing will ever change, and it never will. Once we give up and, through our own inaction, hand the reins over to the cynical politicians, we have given away the store.

Heart to heart

A heart transplant, while literally a change in heart, does not necessarily lead to the more common interpretation of that phrase.

Witness former Vice President Dick Cheney. Just weeks after being granted an extension of his own life through the organ donation of another, Cheney hypocritically attacked President Obama yesterday as being "an unmitigated disaster." His speech included criticism of the economy and many other policy concerns.

This is, of course, the same Vice President Cheney whose administration squandered the economic progress and budget surpluses of the Clinton administration; engaged in two wars on the country's credit card and left office with no end in sight for either of them; granted an expensive extension of prescription drug benefits to seniors, again without paying for it; declared that "deficits don't matter"; outed a CIA operative, endangering the lives of the agent, her family, and countless contacts around the world, solely for political purposes; and was the first administration in American history to take pride in torturing of prisoners. This is the new point man for the Republicans?

Over the years, I have had no overwhelming problems with the Republican party in general. I've voted for some Republicans on occasion. I've run my own businesses and had a major role in running others. I understand the appeal of the Republican's nod to lower taxes and reduced regulations.

But that traditional nod is now more of a nod and a wink; the Republican party is no longer a group of small town business people, the type of folks who populate local chambers of commerce. It is the party of the Chamber of Commerce, the national lobbying body for large corporations and the moneyed interests they represent. It has become the political arm of the 1%.

It amazes me so many miss how out there the Republican party has become. Forget the true crazies, like Congressman Alan West, who see Communists wherever Democrats loom; nut jobs do not a party define, even if their party does nothing to separate itself from their ravings. But when the Republican party in general starts to act like its most fringe elements, the entire organization loses credibility. That this coming presidential election could be close is both hard to believe and scary.

Simple as black and white, continued

For more than a week now, the airwaves, the Internet, and the print media have all been filled with facts, speculation, and opinion about the Trayvon Martin killing. Well-meaning people have been spending hours and using reams of paper and millions of bytes to debate the causes and effects of this shooting.

In America, we're taught to take pride in our justice system being blind. Carved into the facade of the Supreme Court building are the words, "Equal Justice Under Law." In America, no person is supposed to get special treatment, positive or negative, in the justice system.

For me, the core issue of this case comes down to one question: Can anyone claim, with a straight face, that the outcome to date of this episode would be the same if the races of the two people involved were reversed?

Imagine a black man, a self-appointed vigilante in a neighborhood not his own, carrying a handgun. With a pattern of calling 911 almost every day for the first two months of the year, this wanna-be law enforcer follows a young, white boy who is innocently walking from a local store back to his father's girlfriend's house. During yet another call to police, the 911 dispatcher specifically tells him not to follow the young male. The black man continues, regardless, and soon shoots the young, white boy, killing him in the street.

Imagine the local police duly arriving, surveying the situation, and not even questioning the black shooter. In fact, they let him go, still carrying the gun he used to kill a young, white boy. Also imagine local authorities taking away the body, doing virtually nothing to find his family and placing him in the morgue as a "John Doe." Not until days later do the boy's family find out where he is and what has happened to him. It takes weeks for any of this to become an issue.

Can you really imagine any of this happening if the shooter was black and the victim was white? I certainly can't. But this is all exactly what happened in the murder of African-American Trayvon Martin by Caucasian George Zimmerman.

It says a lot about our country that this case has once again highlighted the horror that is racial prejudice and violence; it will say a lot more about our country in 2012 how this case is handled going forward.

Energy independence and other fairy tales

For years, politicians and energy industry spokespeople have been touting the idea of energy independence for America. If only we'd drill here, there, and everywhere, we could lower gas prices and rid ourselves of all those nasty alliances. To put it bluntly, this is almost completely a load of bull.

While developing more of our own energy resources -- which, by the way, the Obama administration is doing -- will lessen the need to align ourselves with countries with which we would otherwise have no natural connection, it will do little to lower fuel prices.

Oil, the resource most often spoken about in this manner, is a commodity traded worldwide on open markets. Virtually all oil is bought and sold this way, and the prices paid affect what you and I pay when we stop at the local Exxon, Shell, or Wawa station. Whether those prices are due to actual supply and demand, or to wild speculation on future market trends, matters little. The price is the price.

Those who claim oil companies will harvest oil in North Dakota, refine it, and sell it to American gas stations at some discounted price out of patriotic zeal are either fools or liars. Corporations will do what makes the most sense for their profit margin and their investors. This is neither good nor bad, necessarily, but it is the fact. To do otherwise would be a violation of the trust of those investors, who would show little hesitation installing corporate leadership more attuned to their financial interests.

The main benefit to increasing our own energy independence is lessening our national reliance on states such as Saudi Arabia, which share little with us culturally or politically. Indeed, the way the Saudis treat women repels all Americans who value that half of our population, and the Saudi's religious intolerance disgusts anyone with a conscience. The only reason we are so close to Saudi Arabia, and the only reason we care so much about the Middle East, is directly linked to our reliance on oil.

For our country to stand on its own metaphorical two feet, we must develop alternatives to oil power, not increase our dependence on it. With no help from Republicans, President Obama is at least trying to broaden our energy options. It will not be an easy or rapid transition, and oil will be with us for decades, especially in the transportation field. But we must invest in other energy-generation ideas, even suffering the occasional failure. If we persist, and if we're smart about it, we will find the answers. Despite all our troubles, America is still capable of great things, especially if we are being led by greatness. The current Republican field of presidential candidates contains none of that.

And the next time someone promises you $2.50 a gallon gas, know that's it's a lie.

New skins

There is nothing so transformational for a motorcycle as a new set of tires.

Car drivers don't quite get this. When you put a new set of tires on your car, the effect is usually pretty minimal unless you're putting on snow tires for the winter. On a motorcycle, however, replacing a worn set of skins with some new ones is like getting a brand new bike.

I was reminded of this on Saturday, when one of our technicians put a new set of Metzeler Tourance tires on my BMW GS. The ride home was wonderful. Despite knowing what to expect, the difference is always amazing.

Since you lean a motorcycle to turn it, the shape of the tire's cross-section has a strong impact on the handling.

Consequently, motorcycle tires are designed with rounded edges to allow the bike to transition smoothly from one side to another. As tires wear, they tend to square off the tread and make the edges more angular. As you wear out your tires, the process can be so gradual as to make it hard to recognize the change, but mounting new tread brings it all back to you.

That's why my ride home was so great. I purposely chose twisty back roads so I could enjoy the quickened steering and agile response of my machine. As I kept a brisk pace down the country roads, I was smiling in my helmet, feeling the bike roll right and left under me. This is what motorcycling is all about!

I thought of a conversation I had earlier that day. A man and his fianceé were in my motorcycle shop, and he was looking at the bikes. While he browsed through riding gear, I had a conversation with her. A non-rider, and not very enthusiastic about the idea of her boyfriend riding, she told me about a relative of hers who suffered severe injuries in a motorcycle accident.

This is a common occurrence, by the way. Non-riders seem compelled to tell us about every motorcycle accident they're ever heard of, almost always resulting in graphic injuries or even death, as if we do not know these stories already. Any reasonably intelligent rider recognizes the risk involved, takes actions to mitigate it, and accepts the outcome.

Anyway, the girlfriend told me her relative took the settlement money from his accident (it was a car driver's fault, another common occurrence) to buy a new bike. She was astonished. I told her that any motorcycle rider would understand his actions. She was even more astonished.

I tried to explain the feeling of riding, how it's as close to flying on the ground as you can get, how it feels like ballet as you glide along, angling this way and that, at one with the machine under you. To her credit, she tried to understand, but it's really something you have to feel for yourself.

And trust me, it's a lot easier and more fun to feel it when you've got some new skins on your bike.

And so it goes...

"I do not believe in an America in which the separation of church and state is absolute."
Former senator and current Republican presidential candidate Rick Santorum, This Week with George Stephanopolous, February 26, 2012.

As a supporter of President Obama's re-election, I'm thrilled with this quote; as an American, I'm horrified. Not surprised by it, as Santorum has been casually dismissing the doctrine first espoused by Thomas Jefferson, but still horrified.

Defending his outrageous statement, Santorum claims President Obama and others are trying to ban any influence on America from all but secular sources, which is about as far from the truth as you'll find this election year, and that's really saying something. The various religious faiths prevalent in this country have their role and their opportunities for input, as the recent debate about health care coverage for contraceptives proves. Few would deny the religious among us the chance to express their views on public policy.

But that's not good enough for Santorum. He insists that Americans conform to his version of religious faith, his moral code, and his strict rules for behavior. If his church -- the Roman Catholic Church -- says sex is only for breeding and contraceptives are verboten, so be it. If his church declares that homosexuality is an abomination (while historically protecting its own priests from prosecution for child abuse and worse), then gays and lesbians should be relegated to the shadows of our society.

Santorum has said reading John Kennedy's famous speech on his own Catholicism and its place vis a vis the presidency made him "want to throw up." Most Americans regard that speech as one of the finest in our history, and a key in changing Americans' prejudice against Catholics.

It amazes me how these candidates so casually disregard the lessons of our past. Mitt Romney says the proposal to have health care providers pay for contraception is the worst assault on religious freedom in our country's history. Really? Worse than when Mormons -- Romney's religious rethren -- were being murdered for their faith?

Similar in its disproportion is the revival of the Hitler/Nazi slur. If one of the Republicans disagrees with something the current administration is doing, it must be because the policy is the next step toward national socialism, or inspired by Hitler's world view, or some other such garbage. Apparently, we can no longer just disagree about something and propose an alternative.

For purely political purposes, I can take heart that these ridiculous statements should help ensure President Obama's re-election. I retain enough faith in my countrymen and women to feel they will see through the absurdity of these campaigns.

For the future of our country, however, I worry about the dumbing-down, and worse, of our political discourse.

The day the music returns

As I walked to get my newspaper this morning, I stopped in my tracks and smiled at the sound of birds singing. For me, this is the one sign of spring I treasure, the true sign of the change of season.

The temperatures may climb out of their winter cellar, the sun may appear longer in the sky, insects may start to buzz about, and the flowers may start to poke from the ground, but it's the delightful symphony of songbirds that is my marker. We're not out of the proverbial woods yet, as the vernal equinox is still weeks away, but spring is coming.

A little birdy told me so.

Politics and hypocrisy. But I repeat myself.

I am delighted to hear Republican presidential candidates and other prominent party figures, like Rep. Paul Ryan, express how important it is for Americans to protest the use of taxpayer money to fund actions that violate the citizenry's moral beliefs.

Republicans are focused on the so-called contraception debate, in which they say no American should be forced to pay for someone else's -- meaning women's -- birth control. But I'm sure it's just a matter of time before they talk about those of us opposed to capital punishment and wars based on lies and deceit. Certainly, if their money shouldn't go toward birth control, then my money shouldn't go to executions. Or wars for oil. Or subsidies for oil companies and corn growers. My moral outrage has numerous targets, and I'm thrilled that any day now, the Republicans will let me know how much I can lower my tax payments, since I'll no longer have to support those government activities I oppose.

Unfortunately, I think I'll be waiting a long time for that notice. This "debate" about contraception isn't about contraception, morality, or even taxes. It's about men telling women what is best for them. While Republicans claim the Obama administration's efforts to ensure access to birth control -- which, coincidentally, would lessen the frequency of abortions -- is Big Brother forcing religious people to violate their moral beliefs, it is no such thing.

 

The administration's plan offers an exemption to religious institutions similar to those offered by 28 states. Eight states offer no exemption to those institutions at all. What have the Republicans been doing while all those states were so callously wreaking havoc on the religious liberties of their citizens?

These sorry excuses for real political issues are the price we pay for the political system we have. The primary season is time for the extremists on every side to come out to play. Candidates are encouraged to jump through a series of hoops held by niche influence peddlers in order to secure another tiny block of voters. No lunatic fringe group is ignored while the candidate tries to assemble a winning percentage of the electorate.

I often joke about packing up my motorcycle and heading to South America for retirement. It's hard for someone like me, who has been involved in politics one way or another since I was 14, to think so cynically about elections. But sometimes I grow tired and dispirited about it all.

Fortunately, President Obama continues to inspire me to stay hopeful. He's not perfect, of course, and there are several issues on which we disagree. However, I think history will show him to have tried incredibly hard to advance the country and the world in a very difficult time with virtually no support from the other side. When your opposition states at the beginning of your term that its mission is to deny you success, then spends the last 3+ years opposing every effort you make -- even those originally proposed by their own members -- you have to wonder whether the job is really worth the aggravation.

I'm glad Obama wanted the Presidency and still wants it. Every day that passes gives more evidence of the emptiness of the Republican field of candidates, and the Republican party in general. They are empty of worthwhile ideas, empty of sincerity, empty of compassion, and empty of empathy.

Each day convinces me even more of the need to re-elect President Obama. The country is moving in the right direction, and this is no time to start sliding back to the mess Republicans caused the last time around.

Taste of the town

There are many ways to know spring is coming. Daffodils and crocuses poking up through the earth, longer hours of daylight, gradually warming temperatures, are all harbingers of winter's fade. Around Fredericksburg, Virginia, there is the re-opening of Carl's.

Carl's is as much a part of historic Fredericksburg as the Civil War battlefields and George Washington's boyhood home. OK, that might be overstating it, but it is on the National Register of Historic Places. For more than 60 years now, Carl's has been using the original Electro Freeze machines to pump out vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. Most of us refer to the delicious frozen product as custard, but under Virginia law, it's ice cream. Technically, custard has slightly more egg yolks than Carl's, but that really doesn't matter to us locals.

Tonight, I rode my motorcycle to Carl's after work. Every year, Carl's opens on the Friday before President's Day (and closes on the Sunday before Thanksgiving) and, for some people, hitting Carl's on opening day is as much a tradition as that baseball thing.

There is almost always a line at Carl's, but it moves quickly. The method of ordering is a little like the soup Nazi episode of Seinfeld, only without the yelling. Friendly young women, usually college students, staff the order window, and there's a definite routine:

- Be ready to order when you hit the window;
- Have your money in hand (single dollar bills are appreciated);
- Pay your tab, step to the left;
- In an instant, another staffer hands you your ice cream, and you're good to go.

I grabbed a small chocolate cone, though I'm a big fan of their chocolate malts. Given the opportunity, you'll develop your favorites, too.

The atmosphere was akin to a block party. Total strangers, united only by their affection for rich, creamy custard -- there, I said it -- mingled and chatted. One couple came over to me and, seeing my motorcycle, commented that I was "really hardcore." Surprised, I asked why they thought that.

"It's freezing out here," the man said. "That's real dedication." I wasn't sure if he meant I was dedicated to motorcycling or ice cream, but I responded the temperature was actually in the 40s and this was really good riding weather. I'm not sure he was convinced.

I talked to a family who brought their small children and their Australian Shepherd, all of whom slurped up the custard, and there were many people just hanging out, enjoying their first taste of Carl's this year.

Some of my friends dismiss the ice cream at Carl's, preferring other shops with multiple flavors. But for me, half the fun is the fact that Carl's is a Fredericksburg institution, small town Americana at its finest. Other flavors can wait, this is opening day!

On Valentine's Day

February 14 can be a tough day for the unattached.

The media is filled with advertisements for romantic gifts, stories about the cute ways couples met, and adorable marriage proposals. For those without partners, however, it's another reminder of the unshared lives they lead.

It's not the same as loneliness. Your life can be filled with friends and acquaintances, you can enjoy professional success, and for some that can be enough. But I believe humans are pack animals of a sort, meant to be with other humans in a shared environment. Call it a marriage, a family, a village, whatever; the term used matters less than the sense of belonging you enjoy.

I was struck tonight by a story on The Last Word about the state of Washington legalizing gay marriage. State representative Maureen Walsh -- a conservative Republican, by the way -- gave an eloquently personal speech in favor, relating her own years of marriage to the plight of gays and lesbians, including her own daughter, who merely want to share the same kind of commitment with another human being. Denying them the right to form such a bond, she said, was just cruel.

When I consider my own experiences, including a marriage, I cannot imagine being so cruel as to deny those experiences to others. My marriage ended in a divorce, and so will some of those of same sex couples. That's sad, of course, but much sadder is to deny anyone the opportunity to make a go of it simply because of their sexual orientation.

Life is too short and much too hard to make it worse by denying love to anyone. If you don't like gay marriage, don't enter into one. But let those who have found the love of their life enjoy the fullness of that love. Domestic partnerships and civil unions won't cut it. For better or worse, richer or poorer, marriage should be open to all who dare to commit to it.

A great star bows out

Another great voice has been silenced. Whitney Houston, a music superstar whose life and career were both cut short, is gone and the world is a lesser place for her passing.

Houston had an amazing vocal range spanning three octaves, and used the power, purity, and warmth of her instrument to put together a string of consecutive #1 hits unmatched in musical history. There are few alive who could not sing along with her hits. Her place in the pantheon of singers was assured years ago.

For the last several years, she had been trying to recover from problems with drugs and alcohol, and from her troubled marriage to fellow singer Bobby Brown. That marriage, including more than a few difficult-to-watch scenes, was documented by a "reality series" called Being Bobby Brown. Anyone watching the show could see there were serious problems in that relationship.

Houston divorced Brown in 2007, and had been trying to make a comeback, both professionally and personally. Sadly, we will never know whether she could have regained her greatness, but people who had been around her lately said she was sounding good and seemed positive and upbeat. This weekend, however, she was seen looking disheveled, sounding and acting erratically compared to her appearance the last few months.

Whatever the exact cause of her death, it is clear drugs will have played a major role. Unfortunately, this is an all too common story in our society. The number of artists and musicians we have lost to drug misuse -- legal and illegal, including alcohol -- could fill a book. Sadly, this will not be the final chapter.

Growing up in the '60s and '70s, I was not unfamiliar with the recreational use of various substances. I never drank all that much, other than a handful of times in my 20s, but I smoked marijuana off and on from my junior year in high school until my early 20s. For whatever reason, I never progressed to the harder stuff, as many of my circle did. I had friends who were doing cocaine, pills (mostly barbiturates), and even heroin. More than a couple died, either from the drugs themselves or from the behaviors that frequently accompany such abuse. One killed himself with barbiturates the day before he was to go to trial for robbing a gas station to get money for drugs. He was a sophomore in high school. Talk about a waste.

I'm not sure why I didn't follow them. It might have been my upbringing, the knowledge that I was loved and cared for, that kept me from being so desperate to find some other happiness. To be sure, I experimented along with so many of my generation and had a few close calls of my own, but apparently I was not so self-destructive as to challenge death so earnestly. Whatever the reason, I am grateful to be here still. My life isn't perfect, but I'm alive and able to make my own choices. They may not always be the best choices, but I try.

It seems Whitney Houston might have been trying to get back to the right choices in her own life. Ten years younger than I, she unfortunately ran out of time. I suspect her death will be ruled an accident -- either an accidental mixing of Xanax and alcohol or, after taking something to calm her nerves before a Grammy event, falling asleep and drowning in her bathtub. Either way, there is nothing pretty or noble about such a death. It's just another senseless death of an artist lost way too soon.

A long ride, reconsidered

Winter is when many motorcyclists hunker down, toss another log on the fire, grab a mug of some appropriate beverage, and plan trips for the warmer months. Given that temperatures lately, in Virginia, at least, have veered regularly from the 30s to the 60s and we've had but a trace of snow, it's been a little tough to ease into that pattern. Not that I'm complaining.

Along with planning trips, we often look back on rides we've already done, which brings me to the subject of today's column, my National Parks Challenge ride for the Iron Butt Association.

The riders among you probably know about the Iron Butt Association. For those who are unfamiliar, the IBA is the premier international group of long distance riders, which establishes a variety of challenges, the documented completion of which qualifies you as a member. There is no way to buy your way into IBA membership; it must be earned. The crowning achievement of IBA challenges is the Iron Butt Rally, a biennial 11-day ride throughout North America with numerous time challenges along the way. Akin to a massive scavenger hunt, it is one of the hardest long rides you can imagine. You can't even try to enter until you've established your endurance riding bona fides.

By comparison, the qualifying rides for IBA membership begin with documenting 1,000 miles or more in a 24 hour period, and include variations thereof. The great majority of us first got our membership on one of those rides, known as a Saddlesore 1,000, which I first did back in the 1990s.

But my favorite IBA ride might just be the National Parks Challenge, in which a rider must document riding to at least 50 National Parks or Monuments in at least 25 states in one year or less. You record your trip by obtaining a stamp in a National Parks passport (the passport is available at any National Park or Monument that charges admission). Photographing your motorcycle with the sign for the park is also encouraged as further proof you actually rode to the site.

My National Park "passport" and just a few of the brochures I collected.

If you plan it well, and happen to live in the eastern United States, this is not as daunting as it sounds. When I completed my ride in 2009, I spent about three weeks total riding time, split up among long weekends and one 10-day trip.

My ride covered almost all the states east of the Mississippi, and a few west of it. As a lover of the National Parks, one of our greatest national resources, it was a joy to visit so many I had never seen. I'd been to many of the well know parks before, from Gettysburg and Vicksburg to Shenandoah and the Blue Ridge, but some of the less well-visited properties were a revelation.

I visited the old textile mills of Lowell, Massachusetts and the site of 17,000 years of human habitation at Ocmulgee National Monument in Georgia.

Ocmulgee National Monument park headquarters and museum in southern Georgia.

I walked the grounds of Fort Necessity, Pennsylvania, where a young George Washington's blunders may well have prompted the French and Indian War.

Entrance to Fort Necessity National Battlefield, Pennsylvania.

Along the way, I saw bits and pieces of this great country, things I'd heard of or never knew were there. Just south of Natchez, Mississippi, I came upon a rather startling gift shop.

Mammy's Cupboard Gift Shop, Natchez, Mississippi.

Mammy's Cupboard -- seriously, that's the name of this business -- was closed on the day I rode by, but it appears the proprietor sells gifts, trinkets, and some baked goods.

Before the Civil War, Natchez was home to more millionaires than anywhere else in the country. Those millions were accumulated on the backs of the slave population held in bondage in the surrounding countryside. I suppose that history might lead to some insensitivity about racial stereotypes, but this was pretty amazing.



Heading south, I found myself on US 61. Nothing remarkable about that, you say. Well, this is the same Highway 61 of which Bob Dylan wrote, the great road from Duluth, Minnesota (where Dylan grew up) to New Orleans. It was a major route for the movement of African-Americans from the deep south to Chicago and the northern midwest.

 

Scenery along Highway 61 in rural Mississippi.

 

 

Gateway Arch, St. Louis, Missouri.

At St. Louis, I returned to the Gateway Arch, an architectural wonder with a fantastic underground museum, located along the shore of the Mississippi River. I first visited the Jefferson National Expansion Memorial, the official name of the park, with a friend from high school many
years ago.

I managed to hustle through rush hour traffic to get to the Ulysses S. Grant National Historic Site before closing time. Slicing through heavy traffic in mid-summer, using your GPS to find an unfamiliar location, will really get your adrenaline going!

I often feel the need to apologize to the wonderful park rangers for a sometimes rushed visit to their park. I realize they are dedicated to the property they maintain, and I feel guilty about spending so little time to get my National park stamp and get back on my way. But such is the nature of the task. I do try to see as much of the site as possible, but it's never really enough to do it justice.

My Iron Butt Association "swag," awarded after my National Parks ride was checked and certified.

Above you see the result of my successful National Parks Challenge. Membership documents for the Iron Butt Association, plus the much-desired license plate backer, a visible sign that you are among the "elite" of motorcyclists. Remember when being elite was a good thing? So do I, and it still is.

Whether you want to challenge yourself with one of the Iron Butt Association rides, or just want to plan a trip for the coming months, I recommend visiting our National Parks. I guarantee the rangers will be happy to see you, especially if you stay a little longer than I did.

Happy trails!

Seeing is believing

I don't believe in miracles.

There are occurrences we may not yet understand, but I don't believe that makes them the act of a divine presence. In earlier days, much of what we take for granted now was thought to be either a miracle or magic but, today, we know better.

I don't believe in miracles.

But you have to wonder when you see Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords return to the House of Representatives for the President's State of the Union address. Though obviously still fighting back from her near-assassination a year ago, she stood as a remarkable, unifying presence both that evening and the next day, when she formally submitted her resignation.

Thinking of what's best for her state, Giffords decided to concentrate on her own recovery and let the people of her district choose someone who can represent them full time, a task she simply can't handle at this time. How often has someone in politics made that choice lately?

For motorcyclists, and BMW riders in particular, Giffords' is a special person. For more than 20 years, she has ridden and raced motorcycles. At the time of her shooting, she owned the classic BMW shown here. Her dream trip, like mine, was to travel from Alaska to the southern tip of South America by bike.

Giffords' fight to recover from her head wound has served as an inspiration to the country. Though her injuries came at the hand of a madman and not while riding her beloved motorcycle, her success can serve as an inspiration to riders who have suffered devastating injuries themselves. Head and spinal injuries are far too common in the two-wheeled world. They are among the risks we take to enjoy the pastime we love.

Gabby has shown what a strong, determined person can accomplish with the help of incredibly talented and skilled medical personnel. From the Congressional staffer who staunched her bleeding on the scene, to the surgeons who saved her life in the operating room, to all those -- including her family and friends -- who guide her through physical therapy and emotional recovery, Giffords has had some of the best care anywhere. But the fight is hers to make.

Who knows if she will ever come back enough to serve in Congress, or elsewhere, again? Who knows if she will ever ride again? Given the way she has fought so far, I wouldn't bet against her.

I don't believe in miracles. But I do believe in remarkable people. I believe in Gabby Giffords.