Back

Back

back

 

By Lucien Maier
Edited By Temperance Penrod

There is nothing that crushes me faster,
Than when the bike breaks.
I wrench myself, so most of these times are very limited.
But there are times.
When the bike goes down and I don’t have,

The knowledge,
The tools,
The parts to fix the issue.

And I have to wait with no bike.
As days count away, I get more and more down.

My depression is strong any time.

But when the bike is down, I have hard time seeing past it.
But this morning after being down for the week,

My bike is back and running great.
There is nothing like that ride.
When everything runs just perfect.
I can sometimes feel at the start of the ride,

That the ride is going to be awesome.
But being Back on the road,
Also means that clock has been reset
Until the next time,
Something breaks.
And once again you have

To make your way,
Back

 

The Real Monsters A “Walking Dead” Fan Fiction

twd

The Real Monsters

A “Walking Dead” Fan Fiction

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

 

Two days ago Kelli had been a normal fifteen year old girl. She had gotten up in the morning and gone to her school, and spent most of the day pining over the boy she currently liked.

Now, a mere forty-eight hours later, her whole world had been turned on its side. School had been cut short as the “dead walking” started to pour through the city of Houston. Soon the school was over run and her and friend slipped out into the parking lot.

The boy she had crush was there but he was overtaken and Kelli watched as the boy she had dedicated her heart to was torn apart. Kelli and her friend got to her house which was just a block down the street.

When they walked in though Kelli’s mother, father, and brother were already gone. Kelli had seen enough late night Zombie movies to know what was happening. She tried to hold her emotion back as she went by the bodies of her parents.

She gathered things from her room and a hammer and machetite from the garage. She also got hers father’s pistol out of his bed side table and all the bullets she could find.  She put the holster through her belt and clipped the pistol in The hammer hung from her backpack and she carried the machete.

She walked back out to her friend.

“Wow you look badass.” She observed.

“I dont know. I am scared as hell. Let’s get to your house.” Kelli replied. Seeing her family dead had shaken her to her core. She resolved to put it aside and be strong. She knew from the movies that the strong were the ones to survive.

Kelli accepted the Zombie apocalypse quickly, and she knew the role she wanted to take in it. However, she kept her plan from her friend. They were able to make to her friend’s house. Her family was not there.

Her friend started to break down, and Kelli could see her going south. Kelli had read a lot of horror books. Her parents had expressed concern about it in the past. In some way Kelli had known this was coming. Knowing this she had always kept an arms length between her and anyone really.

The moment kelli confirmed that the zombies had risen. She pushed everyone out.

That had been sealed when she saw her crush get ripped apart.  They had walked to Kelli’s friend’s house many times. So they took back alleys and shortcuts that kept them off the radar.

A little over an hour later they made it to her house.

Her family was already gone buit they had also already risen. They discovered as they looked into the well to do home.

“We are going to need to clear them out. To get your stuff.” Kelli said looking.

“You mean kill them?” her friend baulked.

“They are already dead.” Kelli said with no real emotion. The second it came out her mouth she regretted being so harsh.

“We could go in through my window and lock them downstairs.” her friend suggested.

Kelli accepted the plan and soon they were climbing onto the roof they way they had snuck out many times. Once in the window, shutting one large door gave them secure access to the upstairs.  They went through the rooms gathering things they felt they needed.

They decided to spend the night in the house. Kelli was pretty much calling the shots.  In morning they would head to the box store down the road. They were going to need equipment.  They slept without any major indecent.

The sun came up the next day, but the nightmare didn’t end.  Kelli and her friend made their way to the store. Kelli had predicted that most of her community would fall quick, and she had been right.

They only saw the dead on the way. It wasn’t until after they had rooted though the store that they finally saw someone.  Her friend saw them first.  Two young men their twenties, Kelli’s friend ran straight to them, excited to see people again.

It became clear very quickly that they were not interested in helping. They drug her off as Kelli waited in the shadows. She followed them back to small Two Story apartment complex The bottom floor was a parking garage. A set of worn wooden stairs lead to the top floor and the four apartments, each taking a corner.

There should have been two sets of stairs but one was already gone. Kelli’s friend kicked and wiggled, but they pulled her up the stairs. Kelli waited and watched. There was a total of eight of them that she saw.

They had taken over the apartment complex, and now they planned looting and raping their way through life. Kelli started to plan. This would not stand. Kelli would not allow her friend to be captured, but more so Kelli wanted the apartment complex.

They had not set up correctly, but it could be a perfect place to begin unfolding her plans. Kelli had decided one night long ago as she watched Evil Dead part 2, if the Zombie apocalypse came she knew exactly what she wanted to do.

Now she would set the plan forward.

 

Guard duty sucked, the walkers never came by here.

He looked out into the dim light, he rubbed his eyes but she was still there. A young lady was smiling at him from the ground. She beckoned him to come out. He called out for the others. Soon they were by his side.

“There is a girl out there. Good looking too.” He said.

“Stay here and keep watch.” They said and the other seven of them ran out into the field she had disappeared into. What they had not seen, shortly after getting into the field she had doubled back and was now right next to the back of the Apartment complex.

As as they were in the field she snuck up to the last guard remaining, using the claw side of the hammer she hit him in the head and he dropped with a thunk. She ran up the rickety stairs. and then behind her kicked them down to the ground.

The wood stairs crashing down caused a large rumble. Kelli locked the iron gate, even though they had little hope of climbing up to it. She went looking for her friend. It didn’t take long to find her.

They had their way with her and you could see was destroyed. Kelli untied her and got her dressed as best she could and lead her out to the gate. They walked out of the field to see the stairs down, and their friend lying in the dirt his head still seeping blood from the hammer claw hole.

“What the fuck?” One called up to her.

“You got the right word. Your fucked alright.” Kelli sneered.

“Bitch you barked up the wrong tree.” He barked, but he fell silent as the heard the field rustle. The stairs had made a large noise and Kelli’s gamble paid off, as a few dozen walkers came up behind the young men.

Two of them were caught immediately. The others retreated into the parking garage. Walkers had come in from the other side as well and now they were cut off.  Kelli looked at her friend watching the men who had ravaged her get torn apart.

The revenge was dark and sweet, but it was not enough to bring her back. She stood and threw herself over the balcony railing and into the swarm of walkers below. Kelli’s friend had decided she did not want to live in a world such as this.

Kelli watched until they were all dead. She went through the complex apartment by apartment, Kelli was alone. She would miss her friend but even back at her house she had known she would not do well.

Kelli sat on a large bed she had claimed as her own. The walkers moved on in the evening, and she was left alone. Her friend and her assailants had risen and wandered off as well.

She slept in the huge bed, she slept soundly. In fact even laid in the bed a little longer than she needed to. As she geared up in the morning she decided she would need to go out and get a few things.

Forty-eight hours ago Kelli had been a normal fifteen year old girl. However now two days into the dead rising, Kelli was right on track to be something very special indeed.

She used some bedsheets and fashioned a rope and went down and off to the box store. But this time it was not empty. She rounded the corner into sporting goods and ran straight into him.

They both fell and he scrambled to get the guns he was carrying. “Hey your still alive.” He said in an italian accent.

“Yes.” Kelli said back getting to her feet. “You gonna take all the guns?” She asked with a distaste in her mouth.

“Nahh, I got a ton if you want some you can have em. I got a ton of stuff, in a truck. I have been looting all night, but now i need to find a safe place.” He replied.

Kelli looked him over. He seemed rough around the edges, but trustworthy. “Alright, I have a pace the is safe. You bring your supplies and you can stay there.” She told him. He shook his head yes. “What’s your name?” Kelli asked.

“Dom. Well Dominic, but everyone just calls me Dom.” Dom replied.

 

 

more to come…..

 

Riding Home from Charming

chraming

Riding home from Charming

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

 

I watched with the rest of you.

I rode into Charming,

I knew quickly that I never wanted to leave.

I also knew from the start, that one day, I would have too.

 

We all knew it was coming, but that did not make easier.

We all counted down the moments, but it did not make it easier.

We all watched our favorites go, in one way or another.

We all knew it was coming, but it does not hurt any less.

 

The loose ends quickly tied,

Time accelerated as the end neared.

My heart pleaded

Please drag your heels,

Don’t go so quickly into the dark good night.

But destiny had its path.

My heart wept when the night took over,

And the reaper took the screen.

 

I woke this morning from my restless sleep,

With peace.

I see the turmoil my fellow fans are in,

Hearts broken over the path the pen took.

But I have peace.

 

You see my friends, I have been here before.

When I finished my fourth book,

I was faced with ending a legacy.

 

I really feel that Sutter’s pen, like mine

Just wrote the truth,

Jax set the road straight.

The story was at its end.

 

There are parts of any story that I am not fond.

But that is the way of any story,

We rode many miles with SAMCRO

I will miss all of them.

 

I hope I can use the lessons I learned,

From Clay about mistakes of the past,

From Opie about honor,

From Tara, about choosing a path

From Bobby, about loyalty

From Gemma, about lies

From Chibbs, about moving on

And from Jax, about not offering excuses.

About looking into the future and setting the path.

About grasping the things you can control.

About letting go of the things you can’t.

About being a king.

 

Some may be disappointed at the end.

But I am not,

I rode home from Charming last night.

I will miss it there, but I am glad I went.

 

 

Still want more? Check out my Fan story

A Run to Remember (a Sons of Anarchy fan story)

An Ode To SAMCRO

iode

An ode to SAMCRO

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

Over.

Surely you jest…..

Over.

But Teller Tuesday?

Over…

What about us Sutter?

            Its time…

Once last time I wait in suspense.

Once last time I wait to see what next.

Looking forward to the last time I hear,

                                                                “Last time on Sons of Anarchy.”

 

I have followed Jax and the boys since the start.

Kurt’s mighty pen lead our way,

Through adventures like we have never seen.

 

Some are…

Angry, that it can’t go on.

To them I say “First 9”

 

Some are…

Sad, having a hard time saying goodbye,

To friends we have had for seven years,

To them I say they are here for a lifetime.

 

Some are…

Accepting, knowing that its time.

Better to go out on top, than to drag it out.

 

I am all those things,

But mostly I am grateful.

 

To the cast and crew,

To all involved, to Sutter, and to my other fans.

 

Thank you for creating something so amazing,

For without Kurt’s pen,

Without Katey’s smirk,

Without Charlie’s swagger,

Without the bike wrangler making ‘em all perfect,

Without the Amazing music,

And without all the fans to love it,

 

We would have never had…

 

SAMCRO.

 (Not enough check out my fan story: A run to remember

http://lucienmaier.com/stories/run-remember-sons-anarchy-fan-story/  )

“A Run To Remember” A Sons of Anarchy Fan Story

ride

 

“A Run To Remember”

A Sons of Anarchy Fan Story

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

It was accepted that Jax and Opie would be in the club, but Clay insisted on making them be prospects. So when they got the shot to do a run up to the Vegas chapter, they jumped at it. Better than unclogging the toilet from Piney’s latest adventure in there.

This morning Jax and Opie had been in very early making sure everything was taken care of. Both of them were worried that the road trip would get pulled out from under their feet at the last minute.

They had planned on leaving an hour before, however Tig was yet to arrive.The two tried to figure out other things to do to prepare, both of the them glancing to the gate every few seconds hoping to see Tig roll in.

Clay and Bobby watched from the tables in front of the club house. They couldn’t help but smile at the two. “Fuck Bobby? You remember having that kind of energy.” Clay asked.

“Yeah, long ago brother. You’re really putting Tig in charge?” Bobby asked with a suspicious tone.

Clay laughed, “I am sure Jax and Opie will keep him in line.” Clay answered.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Fine brother, but you gotta explain to Gemma whatever trouble they get into.” Bobby added.

“Shit.” Clay Said rethinking the choice.

Tig finally rumbled into the parking lot, and parked. Jax And Opie were by him in a second. “I can’t believe the one chance I get to go to Vegas I gotta babysit prospects.” Tig grumbled, but the smile on his face said different.

Jax wanted to say something snarky about how they could have been half way there by now if he hadn’t showed up so late. Wisely, he held his tongue. Criticizing Tig rarely worked out well, or without bloodshed.

They said their goodbyes. The three bikes pulled out of Teller-Morrow and hit the road to Vegas. Jax and Opie revelled on the road, enjoying the eyes following them. They pulled out of Charming and the open road flooded their senses.

Tig lead the pack for the first half an hour, but then he pulled them off the to the right. He climbed off his bike, and relieved himself in the desert landscape. He climbed back on his bike and looked at the two.

“God damn boys you’re biting my tires every ten damn seconds.” Tig said.

“You could let us lead.” Jax said with a smile.

“Since your slow and old and all.” Opie added they both smiled at him with their best innocent faces.

Tig rolled his eyes. “If you can pass me you can lead.” Tig said and kicked into gear and tore down the blacktop.

Jax smiled at Opie. “Invite?” Jax asked.

“Challenge.” Opie replied and tore down the road after him.  Jax right with him they ran hard down the highway.

It did not take that long and Tig saw them gaining fast in his rearview. He pulled the throttle back the rest of the way. It was not enough. Jax and Opie roared past him.

“Gad damn it!” Tig screamed into the wind. The Vegas boys would never stop giving him crap about letting two prospects lead him into town. He held his throttle and stayed on their tail, but he never got past them.

Jax was aware as well and about ten miles from town he dropped back, Opie followed his lead. within a moment they were back in line behind Tig. Tig sighed in relief, he also noted to himself how smart Jax truly was.

Tig lead them into the city limits and then to the Son’s clubhouse. Thier brothers poured out to meet them. Many excited to take a look at a new prospect they had been waiting to see in the cut since he was born.

They brought them inside and the rest became a blur to the three travelers.

The next morning Jax woke up with his head screaming at him. He had been passed out on the couch, he gently lifted the croweater’s hand off his chest. When he struggled to his feet a second croweater who had been laying on his lap fell to the floor with a thunk.

Jax leaned down and helped her up onto the couch. “Sorry darlin’ you alright?” Jax asked trying his best not to laugh.

Opie had been in the back and was walking and saw the girl hit the floor, ss Jax looked up his best friend laughed. “I have heard of dropping a girl, but that is the first time I have seen it done literally.” Opie said,

Jax clapped Opie on the shoulder. “Shut up Op!” Jax said and looked back at the croweater and smiled at her. “Sorry again darlin’.” Jax added.

“It was worth it.” She said.

Opie rolled his eyes, as the walked out into the Vegas morning.

“Where the hell is Tig?” Jax asked. Seeing his bike still in the lot. One of the Vegas patch holders laughed.

“Tiggy never came back last night. But I bet I know where he is. I can take you if you want.” Butch replied.

“Yeah that would be good. We need to get on the road this morning back to Charming.”  Jax replied.

Within a moment they were on the road, and then a few moments after that they pulled up to a house that had definitely seen better days. They walked to the door, and Butch knocked on the door.

A small asian women came to the door. “NO not this time you no take my Tiggy.” She said in her thick accent. Butch pushed past her and led them in to the back. Sure enough, there was Tig in his skivvies tied to a bed.

Jax and Opie couldn’t stop laughing as Butch cut him loose and the asian woman screamed at all of them. Once Tig had gotten himself dressed, they headed out to the bikes.

Jax hopped on his bike and patted the back seat. “Oh hell no, I ain’t riding bitch.” Tig replied.

Jax knew the rules and was about to give up his bike to Tig, but the asian burst out of her house. “No Tiggy you no go without me. I be your old lady!” She said again through her thick accent.

Tig hopped on the back of the bike. “Get me outta here Jax.” Tig said reconsidering.

Jax and Opie laughed and pulled out. They made short work of getting back to the clubhouse. The other Vegas members to wish them good travels.

The president handed them each a set of saddlebags. Tig, Jax and Opie loaded them on their bikes without a word of question of what was in them. After goodbyes they were again on the road.

This time they did not race, to be wholly honest none of the three wanted the trip to come to an end. They pulled into a roadside dinner. They walked into the dusty spot and ordered their food.

Tig looked at the two. “I need a favor.” He stated.

“Don’t worry Tig we won’t tell anyone you were tied to bed by an asian dominatrix.” Jax said reassuring him.

Tig shook his head. “Oh talk about that all you want, Just don’t tell anyone I rode bitch.” Tig almost pleaded.

The boys laughed. Opie put on his best asian accent. “But Tiggy you say you like in the back?” Opie said, which brought on another round of laughter. They ate their food and and laughed.

Once the check was squared they walked out to the bikes and the light mood dropped. Some Mayans had pulled in and were standing in front of their bikes. The main one out of the four spoke. “You aint leaving with those saddlebags.”  The Mayan declared.

“Or how about I cut of your balls and take them with me in my saddlebags.” Tig snapped back.

The fight was on. Tig launched into the main member. Jax engaged the one on his right and Opie went after the two to his left.

Jax made quick work of his guy. He wanted to help Opie. However, after laying out the one Mayan he looked over to see Opie smiling, the two Mayans already knocked out in the dirt at his feet.

Tig on the other hand, was at a disadvantage. They pulled the main Mayan off Tig. Opie held him as Tig let off a couple of revenge hits. “How the fuck did you know to ask for the bags?” Tig asked.

“A little birdy told me.” The Mayan spit out.

Tig kicked him hard in the crotch. The Mayan howled in pain.

“This could make for a fun afternoon.” Tig smiled.

“No man, we got the info from the Mayan Son.” The mayan said, and realized he had said far too much.

“Mayan son?” Opie asked.

“A rat.” Tig spit.

“Nah you got it all wrong. We just have our sources.” The Mayan scrambled to pull back what he had said.

“Tell me who the rat is!” Jax said.

“Whatever prospect, I ain’t tellin’ you shit.” He barked back, although Opie held him tight.

Jax’s anger flared and he lashed out. The punch knocked the Mayan out cold. Opie dropped him in the dirt. “Guess he was done talking.” Opie said.

Tig got on his bike. “Let’s go, I want to get back to T-M.” Tig barked.

They rode with haste, about twenty minutes down the road a Mayan bike screamed up next to them. It was the leader again. This time he leveled a pistol at Tig’s head and motioned to him to pull over.

However, by focusing on Tig he was not able to track the other two. Opie pulled up on the other side of the Mayan. He unclipped a small length of pipe he kept clipped to his frame. With a quick toss, opie had throw the pipe into the front spokes of the Mayan’s bike. The front wheel locked and sent him flying into the air.

As the they left the crumpled Mayan behind them they laughed and smiled.

The rest of the ride proved uneventful. They pulled into the clubhouse and they went to Clay and Bobby who took the prospect’s saddlebags. “We could have a rat.” Tig stated. The three senior members went into the clubhouse leaving Jax and Opie in the parking lot.

“Where do you think that will lead?” Opie asked.

“That depends Op.” Jax replied.

“On?” Opie asked.

“Who finds the rat first.” Jax replied with a smile.

 

 

A Humble Idea

humble

 

A Humble Idea

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

I grew up in Salt lake City, Utah. Although, we moved here when I was four from The Netherlands. So unlike most of the people here at the time I was not LDS. Back in the seventies this made me very much of an outcast.

It certainly influenced how I looked at religion overall. Maybe not in the way you would expect. You see, as I moved through my young life I had dug my heels in, dead set never to submit to the pressure to become LDS.

I had many friends fall to that, not because they believed in the Doctrine, however because they were desperate for social contact. I would not yield to the pressure, but I sure understood how my friends felt.

I wanted so badly to be part of something to. When I was fourteen, I decided to once again look at religion. Again, looking for direction and purpose, but more so to fit in with some people.

I started reading, I had some limited contact with the LDS Doctrine, from that I knew that I did not believe in their idea’s. So I looked in other religions. However, much like the LDS church I found issues with every single religion I looked into.

At the very beginning of this search I had meet a friend in Jr. High. Steve was like me, and had no real tie the church. So for the first time in my life I was no longer resisting the church on my own.

It gave me strength, as so I declared myself an Atheist. However I was wrong back then. Even Atheism did not fit me. As so I went into my adult believing I had no room for god, because it was a lie that people told themselves to not be scared about things they could not explain.

As I have become an adult I started to realize that this label did not fit me either. So again I started to go through my research and added some life experience.

First, I decided that no religion (including Atheism) fit me. You see I don’t believe in God the way we humans have defined it, but I don’t believe science has the answer either. So if you side with atheism you are subscribe to a belief (not fact) as well.

When I came to this realization in my mind, I started to put the pieces in place for me. It comes down to a few points for me, that seem to spread across most religions and science.

1. You, nor anyone, know everything, and one little thing can change everything, so be open to new information and knowledge.

“The Only true Knowledge is knowing you know nothing.” -Socrates
 2. Your relationship with a “higher power”/ “god” is your own, you are not allowed to have influence or even an opinion on someone else’s relationship. Your ideas are valid for you and theirs are good for them. If you try to alter that, you are judging. (Thats a big no no in most of the books)
“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.”- Mother Teresa

3.  Believe, faith can hold you back. It will close your eyes to how others see things and therefore limiting your options on how to see your world.  Whatever the whole story is there are things we can deduce.

a. The chances of you being born and here are astronomical. We don’t need to know why we are here to realize how lucky we are to be here.

b. Every person on this planet is just as lucky, but also as deserving to find their own path.

 

“I think it’s better to have ideas. You can change an idea. Changing a belief is trickier…” -From the film Dogma

 

If you want to find god, you must keep looking everyday and you can’t find him/her/it by closing your eyes or heart to anyone.

Our religions, should all be about helping other humans, not to find the right path, but to find “their” right path. However, in most cases we have not done that. We have forced views and values on others. To the point of killing people? This surely would not be god’s words to us would it?

You are a human and therefore I will call you sister or brother. Although I may not agree with you or your ideas, I will always respect your “GOD GIVEN” right to have them. Its true we all are different, but I think it is much more fulfilling and productive to find the things we have in common.

I don’t want to be right or wrong, I would just like to help my fellow humans.

 

The mirror doesn’t show what I see

mirror

The mirror doesn’t show what I see

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

 

She gets into that mirror and I always roll my eyes.

I can see the thoughts run through her head.

She sits there and sees every flaw,

Every error is cataloged and measured.

 

She stares at that piece of glass,

Slowly working away at her self confidence,

Every day, she finds another flaw.10398477_146018925331_520941_n

Her mirror does not see what I do.

 

She sees a couple laugh lines,

I see the thousands of times I have seen her laugh.

She sees the extra pounds,

I see the amazing family that we have created together.

She sees the grey hairs,

I see all the incredible adventures we have had together.

She see’s gravity’s effects on her.

But I see all the moments when gravity had to let us go.

 

You see that mirror can’t possibly reflect her.

There is far too much to see.

Twenty years I have stood by her side.

I have seen her at her worst

I have seen her at her best.

 

She has opened herself to me,

I have traveled far and wide in this world,

And I have never seen anything as beautiful as her soul.

 

Its true, I get frustrated at that mirror.1173781_10153249341500332_1369887280_n

Because it seems it is better at hiding her,

than showing the true her.

 

I hope she can see that the woman in that mirror,

is not the one that I see every time I look at her.

 

 

Elf Stories: The Last Ride

lastride

Elf Stories: The Last Ride

 

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

    One last ride part 1: Chasing coffee

ride1map

After The last big ride of the season (184) I had vowed to put the bike up. As you can guess it did not work out that way. There were way too many sunny days and cool evenings to catch a blast here and there.

The Saturday before Halloween, I wanted to take one last lonely ride. I set out and the weather was brisk. I rolled to the gas station, filled up, and headed into Tooele. From there I rode the through Tooele. It’s pronounced Two’willa. Why? I have no idea.IMG_1189

I went through Stockton and headed out on the 36, and then I went right onto the 199.

Point 1 on the map

 

As I cruised the little town in Rush Valley, I was contemplating how cold it was. I thought I will stop here for a cup a coffee. As I got further through the town I started to realize there would be no such stop.

There was no shop, gas station, no services at all in the little town. I thought about my father, in my teenage years he had worked in Dugway, and had commuted this road everyday.

What a peculiar commute I thought to myself as I rolled into the canyon.

The Canyon is why I had chosen the route.

Point 2 on the Map

 

Many years ago, a friend and I had made this drive to meet some girls in Dugway. We had taken my car but as we had gone through that canyon I remembered thinking in the dark that it would be a fun to ride.

All these years later (close to 20) I finally got the chance to ride the canyon on my bike. It did not disappoint. I had a good time cutting the new curves. The one issue is that there was a lot of gravel that had been spit up on the road by passing cars.

So it was difficult to lay into the turns to hard. Round the crest of the canyon a patch of gravel grabbed me a let my rear loose. I reved through it, effectively drifting the bike for a second.

I kept good balance and I was solid through the whole move, but it didn’t startle me any less. I pulled off the road two turns down.

Point 3 on the Map

 

It took me a moment to collect myself. The “drift” had spooked me a IMG_1190bit. I took a couple of pictures, and then hit the road. As I rode down into the valley behind and towards Dugway.  I thought of the old Codger.

So way back when I was first riding, I had big dreams of running an MC. Teenage delusions at best, but there it was. We used to get and hold on to biker sayings. Like live to ride and ride to live.

One of my favorites was “It’s not if, it’s when.”

I repeated this all the time. One night we were in one of our hangouts and there was an old biker half in our conversation. I declared, “As a biker it’s not if. It’s when.”

The old Codger grumbled. “That’s crap.” he said straight up. “I have ridden for over thirty years and anytime I have wrecked it was my fault. It’s not when, its about respect. Its about knowing and respecting that every time you get on the bike you are taking your life into your own hands. If you slack then the When will come to get you. But if you respect riding for what it is every time you get on your bike, you won’t wreck.” He finished.

We moved on to a different topic. However, what he said stuck with me and I never said “It’s Not if it’s when” again. Every time I climb on Elf I think of the old Codger and the advice.

As I pulled up to the gate of Dugway and turned around I thought about how that advice has served me. He in that one paragraph had really given me something to live up to.

I got onto 196 and headed toward I-80.

Point 4 On the Map

A creed I ride by,every time I climb on my bike. Even in life, I have since aspired to not assume something will haIMG_1191ppen, but to have the respect for anything I do to make the right thing happen.

As I rode on the road was long and lonely. As you can see in theIMG_1192  IMG_1194pictures. There is something about these roads. At least for me, the solitary run does something to me. Its not good, its not bad, it just is.

I wish I could describe it but I can’t, and I have tried quite a few times. That is one of those feelings that if you want to know I suggest getting a bike. I rode past a couple cattle ranches I always wonder what they think when I blast by.

I see them look up and their gaze follows me as I go by. I wish I knew their thoughts, Are they dreaming about the road that I IMG_1197am riding? Are they condemning me? Do they have their own story attached to why they watch me pass. These things always roll around in my head when I am riding in the desolate spots of the world.

As I pulled off of the lonely little road and on to I-80 eastbound. The ride speed jumped up as I integrated with people traveling back from Wendover a gambling town on the border. I stretched Elf out and gave her the last high speed pass of the season.

This made the ride to 138 pretty speedy. I headed into Grantsville and stopped to get my cup of coffee.

Point 5 on the Map

 

I sat on my bike and sipped the coffee I had been thinking about the entire ride.

Funny people look at me and the bike but if I look over they tend to turn away, and act like they didn’t know I was there. I am not opposed to people coming up and asking about me or the bike. But they don’t.

There must be something about my makeup, about the way I hold myself that must make people think I don’t want them near me. This is not the case. I love people almost as much as I love bikes, but this is the way it has been for a long time.

I know friends that when they ride everyone wants to talk to them, yet with me I can feel their eyes, but they never talk, question, even smile. In fact most times if I do make eye contact I smile and they tend to turn away, or look past me.

I won’t lie and say it does not bother me. It does.

I will say that this year I am no longer fighting it and just learning to accept it.

Once my coffee was done I finished up the ride and pulled the bike in the garage. My Last ride was complete. Until……

 

On last ride part 2. The text

 

Elf was tucked away in the Gride2maparage, I had even pulled the tank. It was Halloween, and I thought the season was done. I got a text. My buddy asked if I wanted to go out and catch one more ride.

Now Garritt my editors better half’s voice rang in my head. “Another last ride?” He had given me a rash of shit about the five or so times I said this will be the last time I take her out. Then just to turn around and ride one more time.10346221_10154127708425332_400356433935691811_n

But the second his voice entered my head I turned away from it. So I came home worked fast to get my tank back on and be ready. We had planned on hitting some watering holes along the way. The photo above is from a different ride but wanted everyone to be able to see my buddies chopper.

As we were filling up the Sky flared into color.IMG_1228

Running out of daylight we decided to go for just a quick ride. I followed my buddy out to the 138 and we headed to Grantsville. We made a quick left onto Sheep lane. A semi was ahead of us.

Point 1 on the Map

 

There was something very cool about us passing the semi on the two lane. The bikes pushed hard to get past him quickly and it felt like me and my buddy were very in sync. We blasted past the Larry H Miller race track.

We hit 112 over to 36 in Tooele and then rode through town.

Point 2 on the Map

 

This is a part I always love, all eyes on the street follow me here normally, but with my buddies chopper along it makes us stick out that much more.

We rode the rest of the short distance home and Since then Elf has been parked. She is now stripped down completely. I have filled out my list of parts and slowly we will put her back together better than she has ever been before.

I had a great season of riding, but to be honest all I want to do is top it next season.

I hope you will join me for those rides too.

 

Elf Stories: 184

184

 

 

Elf Stories: 184

By Lucien Maier

Edited By Temperance Penrod

 

 

          I got a late start, but I was dead set to have a good ride. I smell winter in the air and when she grabs hold this year I don’t think she 184mapwill let go till spring. Its good we need the water, but with the snow comes putting the bike up on blocks.

I can feel it.

The season is drawing to a close and I wanted to do one route. Which was a long review of the entire year of riding. As best as I can figure I have put about 12,000 miles on Elf. Give or take.

She has done a charity rides, she has done one long trip to Aspen and back, and countless buzzes around the area.

I am a little sad I did not get up north this season, but I aim to change that next season. As I did my final check, I thought through all the problems and issues that I have fought through and fixed on this bike.

Building Elf was an amazing experience, but she is a job that never ends. It sure seems that every time I sit for a minute thinking about what I have done to her, I have sit for two more to think about what I want to do.

Elf, started as a 1981 KZ1000m CSR. She however is not the same bike, in fact there is not one bolt in the bike that has not been pulled out by myself or my good buddy who helped me build her.

She has been testy but the closer I get to perfect, the more reliable she becomes. So faced with the prospect of Winter landing soon, I woke up and got ready on Sunday morning. I was going on the route today.

I got geared up and gave the family smooches as I hit the door. Elf was ready and we were off the gas station in a moment. Cruising through my small hometown just outside of Salt Lake is always fun.

You can almost hear the grumbles from peoples bedrooms as I roar by. I got my gas and rode I80 into Downtown Salt Lake City, I ducked over to 400 south. 400 south is a strange road that has a sharp s-turn in it just above 900 East.

I like to ride it when I am in the area because it sharpens your skills. However this time we carved the double turn with no chop on the throttle, or roll off. So I was very happy with myself.

I wrapped around to Foothill Blvd a quick left, and headed for the base of Immigration canyon. I love the canyon, it is home base for canyon riding for me.

I rode the KZ400 I started on, and the first KZ1000 I owned oh so many years ago, even rode the original bike Elf was built out of, through this Canyon.

Point 1 on the map

 

Normally I stop at the base but this day I just rolled straight in and started slicing through the turns.Elf ate it up.

It was not warm. Once inside the caynon walls.It was a cold blast to the top. I was not too hot because the road was still wet. Although I 1made good time to top of the canyon where I pulled off in the parking lot.

Point 2 on the map

 

No ten bicycles today. Just me.

When I came out from relieving myself a Shadow 600 had pulled in to the lot. I had to smile because it was that same make/model bike my wife has been looking at all summer. You could see he was starting out, but determined to be a strong rider.

We spoke briefly about the bikes and then he took off down the canyon. I got the impression he was hoping I would tag along, but I had my own route to ride. I geared up and dropped into Parleys canyon and caught I-80 eastbound up to Wanship.

This can be a fast fun part of the ride, but construction can bring any route to its knees. Once clearing the seemly millions of orange barrels, I pulled off to my spot in Wanship. I got a cup of coffee and a 2snack and hung out.

Point 3 on the map

 

I geared up and rode out to Browns Canyon. Its not overly tight and technical, but it has some nice parts to work on throttle control.

It was about this point in the ride I was thinking about that. I smiled to myself because my wrist didn’t hurt because of what I have 4learned about throttle control. On early runs this season my wrist would have been screaming at me by this point.

I shook out my throttle hand just to keep it loose and then I buzzed down to the 189. I rode into Heber as Jordanelle slipped by me on the left. This part of the ride really reminds me of the ride I did with the Masons. We had come through Heber.

Point 4 on the map

Even though I was going backwards on the route the emotions from that ride surged through me as I buzzed next to Deer Creek.

It was pretty cool to roll in a pack of bikes, I wrote about that in a piece called. “Riding With the Masons”.

At the top of Provo canyon I sta6rted to think about Utah County, which brought up my interactions with ABATE.

I am still not sure what to think. It’s not them, they are a great group of people. I don’t think I fit in. I have a few friends there, but mostly just curious faces. I must seem like an odd duck to them. Check out (“Riding Home”, “Ride on my Own” and “Not Just this ride” to see how I fell in with them.)

Point 5 on the map

 bridal

Coming down the canyon next to Bridal Veil Falls.

(picture from a different trip)

I think I just realized that I don’t fit anywhere. I am never going to. However, it seems that now I am ok with that. As I rode down into happy valley, I headed for I-15 North to 73 which took me out to a gas station.

The same gas station where I camped out in the rain while I gathered my wits, sanity, and bravery to continue home.

That ride (which I wrote about in a piece called “Wet”) was one that taught me so many things. Now today was sunny, but the late start was starting to catch up to me. I climbed on and again noticed my fatigue level was not anywhere near the start of the season.

As I rode on 73 around the horn of Flattop mountain, I was really wondering if riding will ever stop teaching me. I can’t describe correctly the feelings that over take me when I ride.

I chested into the Tooele valley.

 

At this point I was really strapped for time, so I shot straight for home. When I got home I was in a rush and jumped straight into some family stuff. It’s not really till now how I see how this ride truly sewed up my season.

This was to be my last ride, But it turned out not to be.

I took one more ride to Dugway.

and one more with my buddy after that.

 last

But as you can see she is now tucked away for winter. With some new parts and ideas on the way. This ride helped me process the whole season. Thanks for coming along.

 

 

Read about all my rides in        “Elf Stories

 

 

The Long Way Down

From The IN THE BLOOD Series:

Introduction: The long way down.

A small pebble came down and hit him square in the forehead. “Son ITBcover (1)Of A Bitch! Watch where you put those big ass clod hoppers.” Taylor yelled above him.

Scott laughed, “I’m sorry did I hit you?” He asked back, trying to sound innocent. Scott started to whistle as he pushed his foot in the wall. He pushed off the foot catching the next hold with his fingertips. His arm flexed, and pulled him to the next safe hold for his foot.
“You know damn well you hit me. Stop being so proud of it.” Taylor yelled back. They continued to climb and banter towards the top of the cliff. They had been climbing together for years.
Someone who did not know them would think they were arguing all the time. But in actuality, they were the best of friends. They had climbed many places in Utah’s incredible landscape.
They had spent some great summers exploring Utah’s backcountry. Scott was the one that brought Taylor into climbing. They had been friends since before either of them could remember.
Taylor and Scott had met at the library. Very few times does a friendship endure through story time. However, their friendship had endured. It was one thing both of them had learned to count on, even when everything had been taken away.
That first summer they had become fast friends. They spent summers going around Salt Lake City, and exploring the mountains behind their homes. It had been rough on Taylor, as he had lost his family when he was thirteen.

This was one of their favorite faces to tackle.  It had an incredible view, but most unique was the fact that as you climbed up the sheer rock wall not twenty feet away was a roaring waterfall.

Hanging eighty feet in the air, next to thousands of gallons of roaring water, was quite unique.  After twenty minutes of climbing, Taylor finally swung his leg into the last hold and popped over the edge.

When they got up to the top they sat with their feet dangling off the edge. They looked out into the valley below. Taylor had short dark hair, that if left to its own devices, would turn into a curly mess over time, his eyes were a strange hazel. He had a light build, a little too skinny. He was about six feet tall.
Scott on the other hand, had long blond hair, and deep blue eyes. He was medium build, and slightly shorter than Taylor.
They both lit up a cigarette and relaxed, as much as one can sitting on the top of a one hundred foot cliff. “So, we going to tackle the upper face today?” Scott asked.
“Tiffany going to be pissed at you if we do?” Taylor asked in return. Tiffany was Scott’s girlfriend and expected them back in a couple of hours. They would have a hard time making that time if they attempted the upper face today.
Although, Tiffany had been around them long enough to know that they would always climb one more face, or ride another couple miles. Taylor and Scott shared many traits, and the willingness to always go one more step, was one of those.
The upper face was not far, but they would have to cross the river and hike about a half mile. “Well, she won’t be that mad.” Scott replied.
“Your funeral.” Taylor said laughing.
Taylor and Scott sat in silence and took in the view. Sometimes Taylor and Scott could go for an hour without a word. They were not talking, but they were still in sync with each other.
They had been friends for so long, they had a bond deeper than language. They enjoyed one of those moments now.
First Taylor’s family, and when they were eighteen they had lost Scott’s mother, who had taken Taylor in. They had only had each other.
Scott had Tiffany as well, Taylor on the other hand seemed to prefer to be alone. However, as in most cases this was not the full truth. When Taylor’s parents had died, he had a girlfriend. Scott still got angry to that day when her name was brought up in conversation.
She had left Taylor because it did not fit into her plan to deal with a grieving boyfriend. Taylor was never mad at her, saying that he understood. However, the cold shoulder she received from Scott, was legendary.
Taylor had been pushed, set up, tricked into, and any other method you can imagine to meet this girl or that. He never took more interest than friendship.

They finished their smokes and got up, Scott stretched his back.

“You okay to go on there old man?” Taylor asked.

“What the fuck man you are older than me.” Scott snapped back, smiling.

“Only in body.” Taylor replied.

“That’s the truth.” Scott said rolling his eyes.

They walked over to a crossing point on the river. A rope was fixed to both sides of the river to allow them to wade across.

They clipped into the rope and started to inch across through the ice cold water. The cold water waking up all their senses, the cold almost made Scott reconsider his decision to take on the upper face.

When they were half way across the river, the rope started to make a strange noise. Taylor looked at the two tie off points, they were secure. The noise came again. What they could not see was the rope had frayed away and with the new weight of the two young men on it. The rope could not hold very long.

“I don’t like the sound of that MOVE!” Taylor yelled over the rumble of the river. Taylor was almost across when he felt the rope go. It had snapped at the weak point. It let Taylor and Scott loose.  Taylor reached and grabbed Scott by the forearms. Scott tumbled into the water, but Taylor had a good grip.
The current was very strong, Taylor held on with all his might. “Get on your feet!” He screamed at Scott who flailed wildly in the water.  The rope had ripped free they were now entirely on their own in the current.
Scott gained his footing and started to come out of the water, he took a step forward. Both of them thought it was over, but Taylor took a step and slipped on a rock.  He dropped into the water now Scott, disparately to keep upright, also toppled into the water.
Taylor and Scott both saw their short lives flash before their eyes. Although it was only a second, it seemed much longer to both of them.
They were pushed and rolled by the water to edge of the waterfall. They disappeared over the edge of the fall, and into the spray of the waterfall.
The birds went back to singing as if nothing had ever happened. The two young men swallowed by the river and no trace of them could be seen or heard.

Check out the rest of the IN THE BLOOD series here:

http://lucienmaier.com/series/in-the-blood/

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