KEN: (AKA: "Kenny K"; "Krazy Kite"; "El Papalote Loco"; and other things unprintable.)

e-mail him at  ellipsis@concentric.net  or if you like, maybe he'll have his elegant and informative web page up to check out at  http://www.concentric.net/~ellipsis. You can learn more about the KiteMan by clicking on his photo below.

QUOTABLE NOTES: Although this shot of him dressed in his native straw garb does not indicate it, Kenny has been dangerous since he was eleven. He will not boast of this publicly although he will admit to having been born in a barrel of butcher knives. A good friend of mine since the first week of high school, some 31 years ago, I met him a few seconds after feeling a searing pain in my left calf and finding a homemade mini-dart imbedded there solidly. Looking around I saw that he was the only one in that direction trying too hard to look like he was studying. After a brief conversation at the end of class we were buds and that's all I have to say about that.

The KiteMan's major routine is being a firefighter for a great metropolitan department; however, he runs two side-businesses in his not-so-free time. He does computer graphic design and is a high-zoot commercial hybrydizer and grower of the genus Hemerocallis, or daylilies (Adobe Gardens.) Sadly not into motorcycles these days, he was once an adventurous dirtbiker with a stable of exotic off-road, fire-spittin' two-wheeled hot rods. He is truly a Jack-of-all-trades while being the master of many. If it were not for his superb understanding of computers, I'd still be trying to figure out how to get a picture on my screen.

The Kite and I have put on loads of miles and have seen a few things together in the past 31 years. He is the only guy I have ever seen grab road kill, skin it and clean it and then cook it over a roadside campfire for our dinner. Highway 49 squirrel is not that bad. There have been absolutely hundreds of road trips, hunting and fishing trips, dirt bike outings, and even narrow escapes from small towns in which the inhabitants failed to appreciate our particular brand of humor. These will remain in my "fond memories" folder forever. E-mail Papalote and ask about things like the naked guy in San Luis Obispo, the sudden left turn in San Francisco, or maybe the "Night of the Rag" (also known as "Improper Nocturnal Coitus Interruptus"), and the numerous other memorable incidents that may pop up in conversation.

Always the subject of focus for many idolatrous females, he always seems to have time to stop in and fix whatever is in need of compu-fixin'. A true brother, I salute him with huzzahs.

THE KITEMAN's NOTABLE QUOTES:

"Stand back while I light this thing."

"Awwwwwwwwwww....... shut up."

"Hey, lookit this watch I just bought from some guy...... only $25.00!!"

"Psssst....... there should be some kinda fire drill in about ten minutes."

QUOTABLE NOTES: No, not DaveyA as in MikeyA, but a true brother nonetheless. This is the guy who puts on all the motorcycling miles with me. Together we have ridden through about half our country's states, including Alaska, several Canadian provinces and a bit of Mexico. We have covered some of the biggies together, including the bike weeks in Sturgis and Daytona. We have stayed in some of the fanciest hotels as well as places like the Alaska Pipeline workmen's quarters that are smaller than many bathrooms. There have been places so hot we thought we'd melt and those so cold we'd not warm up until after being in a heated room for a few hours. I was there when ice on the roadway caused him to crash his bike to a near-totaled condition and he was there to peel me off the asphalt when I slammed mine into a Baja cliff at 55 mph.

Dave and his family own a liquor store which is one of the finest in the East Bay. He works much too hard and should probably have more leisure time to spend fishing and hunting or motorcycling. He is a first-generation American whose parents were born in Portugal and he holds a very strong cultural interest in his Portugese heritage. Fluent in both Portugese and Spanish, he also dances in a cultural group and participates in related customary activities.

Dresser Dave currently rides his late-model Harley dresser (duh!) as well as a very hot Shovelhead Wide Glide with a flame paint job and more chrome than most old Cadillacs. He has a project bike in the form of a vintage Indian Chief (he WILL ride this in my lifetime if I have to put it together myself) and cruises a bad-ass Chevy custom truck from the early '70s. The boy adds a whole new dimension to the term "sportsman", being a superb hunter and fisherman, and a player in the local baseball leagues during the seasons. When he goes hunting, he drives into Idaho until the truck will go no farther, unhooks the Jeep and drives it until it will go no farther, then walks in to the hunting spot. The last deer his party nailed took three days to get back to the camp.

DaveyA is a good guy to know and a fun guy to travel with. Perhaps soon we will cover the other 25 states and see what awaits us. Until then we'll be riding around as far and as much as his schedule permits.

DAVEY A's NOTABLE QUOTES:

"What's that smell?"

"What's that noise?"

"Oh, yeah, okay, alright, that's how it is, huh? Alright, right on........"

QUOTABLE NOTES: Pittso-Bittso is a bikin' kinda guy and has been for plenty of years. We worked related jobs at different ends of the county many years ago and our paths crossed many times. After working together and being on a few rides with mutual friends we began touring around when our days off and vacations lined up. In past years he was into light-speed replica racing on the nations highways but intelligence, experience and plain common sense have resulted in a more laid-back style. Nevertheless, he still gets a bit of a rise when he is able to cruise on a hot rod. I believe at the last H.O.G. rally his pants were a bit damp when he returned from the Buell test ride. He seems to like the 75 mph speed limits in Arizona, too.

Pittso covered the Southwest, Death Valley and the Grand Canyon with Dresser Dave and I on one of our first rides together. He has had a great 1980 Harley-Davidson Sturgis model since before we met. Much to my surprise and pleasure, he recently bought his first dresser, an act which he seemed to purposely resist in the past ("But that's an old man's bike!") Since the dresser came along, he is seldom seen on the Sturgis. If not for the dresser he would have likely missed the ride to Daytona with the rest of us in March '96. And then where would he be?

A laid-back kinda guy, the Pittster is seldom seen displaying any type of frenetic behavior. This good pal of ours shares a weakness for pizza, pesto, garlic and other things that make us smell really good. One of our favorite impromptu rides is to jam up the Coast Highway and grab some barbecued oysters and clam chowder in the small port town of Marshall. Pittso has earned the "MikeyA Seal of Good Cooking" after being the chef in charge of numerous Monday night dinners while the rest of the gang were off goofing around elsewhere. His motto seemed to be, "There will be NO leftover garlic!" There never was.

PITTSO's NOTABLE QUOTES:

"This really sucks!"

"That really sucked!"

"That's gonna really suck!"

QUOTABLE NOTES: "Ohio Jim" is unquestionably one of America's high-mile kings. As a representative and Ambassador for the American Motorcyclist Association, he spends a load of time and miles working as well as vacationing. I met this homeboy at a far away H.O.G. rally where he had his A.M.A. booth set up as part of his membership drive. We somehow got to talking and corresponded afterwards, often trading collectibles such as postage stamps that show motorcycles, motorbike license plates and other similar stuff. A year later when he knew I was heading back to the H.O.G. Rally at Lancaster, PA., he invited me to stay at his home on the way out. The best part of the trip was the short time I stayed with Jim and his wife Pat at their Cincinnati home. I met many of his friends and rode throughout the area and got to eat Pat's cooking which was itself worth the trip. I had the pleasure of his company for the rest of the trip to Lancaster and we had a blast. There have been quite a few rides and visits together since then, despite the 2,500 mile distance between our homes. I'm almost guaranteed to see him in Daytona, Sturgis, any H.O.G. rally or the Del Mar Mile.

Jim has a unique collection of bikes from all over, some fairly exotic and sought-after and others fairly common, but all in the best of shape. With all these bikes it is a curiosity that he chooses a Honda 400 as his daily around-town bike. His road bike is a trusty Honda Gold Wing which sports a speedo readout of 225,000 miles. Yes.... almost a quarter million miles on this bike alone. Ain't too shabby. Jim is the type of guy that has breakfast in Cincinnati then dinner later in Daytona after cruising all that way through March weather. Sometimes it is a load of fun trying to keep up with him, other times I think I should be paid for even trying.

I must say here that this guy is a character. Not just any character but one who seems to be so far out that one must wonder if there is anyone else like him in the entire world. I would bet a paycheck that there is not. A true fearless demon on the asphalt, he turns into a short-stepper once on foot. All it takes to frighten him is to make the slightest suggestion that we'll be eating anything other than meat, potatoes, cereal or Wendy Burgers for dinner. It took two days but we finally got him to eat buffalo stew ("Those damn things stink, they roll in the dirt, crap all over and lookit their hair!!! Who could eat that !!??") He's the only guy I know who eats clam chowder and spits out the clams ("Yeah, but I spit 'em out gracefully!") He is always on a low-mucous diet and judging by his eating habits, he probably has stock in Wendy's, McDonald's and Burger King. It's a hilarious thing to watch him interact with folks in the local eateries and other places when we travel. It usually takes waitresses about one visit from Jim to remember him whenever he returns a day or two later. They seem to hang nicknames on him immediately. I can't count the times we have returned to a cafe just to hear one of the waitresses shout out, "Oh, no, here comes the bad apple again!" Sometimes it's just a simple, "Oh, Lord, look who's back!"

Sadly lacking in computer interest, you can't contact Jim by e-mail or visit his web page. I guess I could write anything at all about him here because there is as much chance of him ever seeing this as there is of him gulping down a few raw oysters. Anyone who has gone to a major H.O.G. rally or other major A.M.A. sanctioned race or event has likely seen Jim, there at the A.M.A. membership booth. Since you can't get hold of him on the computer, stop in and visit at his booth. You should also buy an A.M.A. membership while you're at it because it is the best thing going for motorcycle enthusiasts today. Tell him Mikey sez "HI!"

NOTABLE QUOTES:

"Did you see the dick on that elephant???!!!"

"I think I chipped a tooth on that biscuit."

"I don't eat anything that slimes its way along the ocean floor."

"You see that antique BSA??? It gave me a yard-on hard-long!!!"

QUOTABLE NOTES: Like Pittso-Bittso and I, David and I met while working similar jobs for different employers. It seems we'd bump into each other all over the place and we ended up working many projects together. We knew some of the same folks and ended up riding around the area together on occasion. David had bought a Harley Low Rider and after riding it around for a few years decided to sell it to a friend of ours. After a few years of being off the bike he couldn't take it any longer and after shopping for a short time, found a great deal on another Low Rider. He scooped it up quickly and got back into the swing of things.

David is a frequent rider and spends a lot of time on his bike, but had never taken a trip of any length, other than a 400 mile visit to a friend in So Cal. So last year when he started emitting rumblings about how we should ride to Sturgis for the Rally, I was somewhat sceptical. He soon began making what seemed like real plans so I told Dana to pack her bags... it looked like we were heading to Sturgis again. Her first questions was "Has he ever been on a real ride?" Well, honey, no, but we're going anyway. On my smaller bikes I'm a whimp. Days of over 300 miles on my Springer make me want to roll it over a cliff. On my dresser I like 700 mile days and have done one 1,000 mile day (it will be the only one, thank you) and many days of 800 miles. Dana, on the other hand can do a 600 mile day on her Sportster without a whimper. So when the day came to head off for South Dakota I figured "Rookie David" would peter out on his Low Rider by the time we hit the 300 mile mark. We cruised slowly through the mountains and took a couple of breaks for food. We got to Winnemucca, Nevada, where I had made reservations and Dave looked like he'd just stepped out of an air-conditioned lounge. He still seemed real fresh and said he wanted to ride some more so we jammed on for an additional 125 miles to Elko. The boy never did get tired and for the rest of the trip Dana and I were pretty astonished at his never-tiring style. Ride, gas, food, ride, gas, ride, gas, food, ride, ride - oh, the sun's gone? Ride, gas, ride. "Oh, it's raining and cold and windy? Hmmm, didn't notice, let's go."

Anyway, David turned out to be quite an animal, all the while retaining a hint of civilized character. High-mile days were a specialty for this guy and I can't remember him ever being the one to initiate a stop. He just starts the bike, gets it rollin' and stays that way until someone jerks his leash. It wouldn't surprise me if some day he designs a method for a cruising motorcycle to fuel up at highway speeds, kinda like the in-air fueling capabilities of military airplanes.

David lives up in the Wine Country about 45 minutes from my home. He commutes to work a couple miles from me so we get to visit frequently. He likes his bike but has a hot rod Porsche to take up the slack days when riding the bike is out due to weather. Although it has only been a year since our trip to Sturgis, he is poring over the maps and travel guides to make the trip during the upcoming summer. Mad dog.......

NOTABLE QUOTES:

"Whattaya mean there's no beer?"

"There's no beer."

"First make sure they have beer."

"No milk for the Froot Loops? Here - use some beer."