Discussion:
Dirt roads, short cut or...?
(too old to reply)
Bryan
2005-06-11 03:22:54 UTC
Permalink
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.

It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley 350 single,
Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster, they all ran the
dirt...

And they weren't bad on the pavement either.

But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".

What is the world coming to?

Bryan
Tom Quackenbush
2005-06-11 03:47:48 UTC
Permalink
Bryan wrote:
<snip>
Post by Bryan
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
What is the world coming to?
Well, don't mistake Kansas for the world.

In Vermont, most of the roads are dirt.

<Dana Carvey's grumpy old man voice >

And we LIKE it!

</Dana Carvey's grumpy old man voice>

I think a couple of other places in the world might have mostly
dirt roads, too. It's a big world. Not so big that the horizon is 25
miles away, but pretty big, nonetheless.

R,
Tom Q.
--
Remove bogusinfo to reply.
Vlad the Imposter
2005-06-11 16:40:18 UTC
Permalink
On Sat, 11 Jun 2005 03:47:48 GMT, Tom Quackenbush
Post by Tom Quackenbush
<snip>
Post by Bryan
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
What is the world coming to?
Well, don't mistake Kansas for the world.
In Vermont, most of the roads are dirt.
<Dana Carvey's grumpy old man voice >
And we LIKE it!
</Dana Carvey's grumpy old man voice>
I think a couple of other places in the world might have mostly
dirt roads, too. It's a big world. Not so big that the horizon is 25
miles away, but pretty big, nonetheless.
At top of Cabbage Hill in state of Oregon, can see a person almost to
McNary dam in thirty miles distance. Volcanic mountain of Ranier to be
seen from fifty miles distance or more. Can possibly see smog deep
into state of Jersey from top of Empire State, yes?
--
Vladimir Stolba a man loving Moto Guzzi machine
the fly
2005-06-11 13:54:02 UTC
Permalink
On Fri, 10 Jun 2005 21:22:54 -0600, "Bryan"
Post by Bryan
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.
It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley 350 single,
Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster, they all ran the
dirt...
And they weren't bad on the pavement either.
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
What is the world coming to?
Bryan
There are still lots of dirt and gravel roads in Kansas. Just
not in Johnson or Sedgwick counties.
Bryan
2005-06-11 15:01:53 UTC
Permalink
Post by the fly
On Fri, 10 Jun 2005 21:22:54 -0600, "Bryan"
Post by Bryan
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.
It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley 350 single,
Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster, they all ran the
dirt...
And they weren't bad on the pavement either.
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
What is the world coming to?
Bryan
There are still lots of dirt and gravel roads in Kansas. Just
not in Johnson or Sedgwick counties.
Johnson County. I went to Shawnee Mission South, you used leave the school
parking lot, cross the Interstate (I-35?) and be on dirt roads. I
broadsided a VW bus out there one day after school when it ran a stop sign.
The old Dart sent the bus right on its side. Good thing no one got hurt.

Glad to hear that thos dirt roads are still out there. The roads of my
youth.
Bryan
Willoughby
2005-06-11 17:09:04 UTC
Permalink
Post by Bryan
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
What is the world coming to?
What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many Dirt Roads have
been paved. There's not a problem in America today, that wouldn't be
remedied, if we just had more Dirt Roads, because Dirt Roads give
character.

People that live at the end of Dirt Roads learn early on that life is a
bumpy ride. That it can jar you right down to your teeth sometimes, but
it's worth it, if at the end is home...a loving spouse, happy kids and
a dog.

We wouldn't have near the trouble with our educational system if our
kids got their exercise walking a Dirt Road with other kids, from whom
they learn how to get along.

There was less crime in our streets before they were paved. Criminals
didn't walk two dusty miles to rob or pillage, if they knew they'd be
welcomed by 5 barking dogs and a double barrel shotgun. And there were
no drive by shootings. Our values were better when our roads were
worse!

People did not worship their cars more than their kids, and motorists
were more courteous, they didn't tailgate by riding the bumper or the
guy in front would choke you with dust & bust your windshield with
rocks.

Dirt Roads taught patience. Dirt Roads were environmentally friendly
you didn't hop in your car for a quart of milk you walked to the barn
for your milk. For your mail, you walked to the mail box.

What if it rained and the Dirt Road got washed out? That was the best
part, then you stayed home and had some family time, roasted
marshmallows and popped popcorn and pony rode on Daddy's shoulders and
learned how to make prettier quilts than anybody.

At the end of Dirt Roads, you soon learned that bad words tasted like
soap. Paved roads lead to stress and danger. Dirt Roads more likely
lead to a fishing creek or a swimming hole.

At the end of a Dirt Road, the only time we even locked our car was in
August, because if we didn't some neighbor would fill it with too much
zucchini.

At the end of a Dirt Road, there was always extra springtime income,
from when city dudes would get stuck, you'd have to hitch up a team and
pull them out.

Usually you got a dollar... always you got a new friend... at the end
of a Dirt Road.

Written by Lee Pitts broadcast by Paul Harvey
High Plains Thumper
2005-06-11 18:28:10 UTC
Permalink
Post by Willoughby
Post by Bryan
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high
school) and he said, "What's a dirt road, they are all
paved".
What is the world coming to?
What's mainly wrong with society today is that too many
Dirt Roads have been paved. There's not a problem in
America today, that wouldn't be remedied, if we just had
more Dirt Roads, because Dirt Roads give character.
People that live at the end of Dirt Roads learn early on
that life is a bumpy ride. That it can jar you right down
to your teeth sometimes, but it's worth it, if at the end
is home...a loving spouse, happy kids and a dog.
Well, if you own a homestead and have to put up with slogging
though the mud in winter (I'm talking south US) or after
rains, you'd want your county road paved.

Paving roads is expensive. They don't pave roads unless
there's a reason. Most of the time it is about increased
traffic (population growth) and safety.

If someone wants to ride rural, move rural, and I mean rural.
There's still dirt roads out there.
--
HPT
Willoughby
2005-06-11 19:31:00 UTC
Permalink
Post by High Plains Thumper
Well, if you own a homestead and have to put up with slogging
though the mud in winter (I'm talking south US) or after
rains, you'd want your county road paved.
I was exchanging e-mails a few years ago with my 2nd cousin who
lives in the southeastern part of Kansas. I told him that the 80 acres
of my great grandfather's homestead near Madison in Greenwood county
would be worth about $8 million if it was in Kaleeforneeyah, where
local ag land is being bulldozed for new housing. He told me that the
land would probably sell for $300 an acre and that it was so remote
he'd need a 4WD to get back in there. I never went back for a looksee
though...

Around here, I'd be lucky to find a 50 X 100 building lot for $25K
these days...
High Plains Thumper
2005-06-12 00:22:17 UTC
Permalink
Post by Willoughby
Post by High Plains Thumper
Well, if you own a homestead and have to put up with
slogging though the mud in winter (I'm talking south US)
or after rains, you'd want your county road paved.
I was exchanging e-mails a few years ago with my 2nd cousin
who lives in the southeastern part of Kansas. I told him
that the 80 acres of my great grandfather's homestead near
Madison in Greenwood county would be worth about $8 million
if it was in Kaleeforneeyah, where local ag land is being
bulldozed for new housing. He told me that the land would
probably sell for $300 an acre and that it was so remote
he'd need a 4WD to get back in there. I never went back for
a looksee though...
Around here, I'd be lucky to find a 50 X 100 building lot
for $25K these days...
Let alone a lot for that cost.
--
HPT
Chuck Rhode
2005-06-12 13:44:03 UTC
Permalink
High Plains Thumper wrote this on Sat, 11 Jun 2005 18:28:10 +0000. My
reply is below.
Paving roads is expensive. They don't pave roads unless there's a
reason. Most of the time it is about increased traffic (population
growth) and safety.
In Wisconsin, state and local government bought and paid for the
infrastructure of paved country roads ~ a more or less direct subsidy
to the dairy industry, which had to transport a perishable product
from every farm every day in all weather ~ and a more or less noble
socialist project, from which we still derive the daily benefit of
attractive back roads to explore.
--
.. Chuck Rhode, Sheboygan, WI
.. 1979 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Geraldine)
.. 1978 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Fenris)
.. http://www.excel.net/~crhode/RockyGnashtoothsWeather/
.. 70°F. Wind S 5 mph. Clear. Mist.
Groucho
2005-06-12 15:35:24 UTC
Permalink
Post by Chuck Rhode
In Wisconsin, state and local government bought and paid for the
infrastructure of paved country roads ~ a more or less direct subsidy
to the dairy industry, which had to transport a perishable product
from every farm every day in all weather ~ and a more or less noble
socialist project, from which we still derive the daily benefit of
attractive back roads to explore.
Socialism evolves from communism to capitalism, according to my cousin
Karl...

Nameless numbered county roads give me access to inexpensively examine
the evidence of unequal distribution of goods and pay according to work
done during the ongoing transistion between the practical communism of
the pioneers and the present wealth flaunting of the entrepreneur as
the rich get rich and the poor keep struggling...

Certainly the state and country built all those ag roads to help the
farmers move their produce to market and they taxed the people
handsomely to pay for the county roads, they didn't build the roads so
I could go for a Sunday Putt in the Country...

The dairy industry here around Cowpoop, Kaleeforneeyah, is *bigger*
than the dairy industry in Wisconsin, or any other *country* in the
world according to the local chamber of commerce...

It's incredible to see the endless lines of shiny tanker trucks filled
with sloshing, gurgling milk, headed for Lost Angels and Scarymiento...

Scientists have raised that old saw again, the one about how most of
the methane in the world comes out of the asses of cows, but they've
revised the figures downwards. Latest research say that only about 7
pounds of volatile materials are excreted and belched from the average
cow daily, instead of 13 pounds. The scientists say that cow farts and
belches and decomposing manure are what makes the skies of the San
Joqueen valley so brown, and that it isn't the fault of all those
diesel trucks on the arterial highways...

We keep seeing all those commercials on TV where contented talking cows
stand around in green pastures and two talking calves ask an old cow
they call "grandma" about where she came from, and she freaks out
remembering a Wisconsin blizzard...

And the TV commercials try to give the impression that dairy cattle
live a halcyon Wisconsin lifestyle. The Land O Lakes dairy company is
right here in Kaleeforneeyah...

But it ain't purty country, no sir, it sure ain't Wisconsin, with its
green meadows and white washed barns and white fences along roads with
shade trees...

Nossir, Cowpoop sweats under the summer sun under a cloudless sky and
gets drier and drier and drier and the cows stand under a big cowshed
to get out of the 120 degree heat or maybe they head over to the
cooling sprays that run continuously and get wet to cool off...

As I ride the back roads past the cow pens, I sometimes see cows and
calves that couldn't get cool enough, their corpses lay on the side of
the road and the turkey vultures sit on the telephone poles watching
them...

And the surviving cows stand around on great piles of cow manure,
contentedly chewing their cuds, knowing no better life than the truck
stop whores over in Uglylimart...

The little town of Uglymart has about four paved roads, the rest are
dirt roads. The best description of the southeastern corner of the
county would be to say, "It Is So Fucked!"

Most of the ordinary folks live in old tumbledown houses or mobile
homes. They are the grandchildren of John Steinbeck's Okies. Some of
them can be seen hitchhiking over to Povertyville to visit the welfare
office. Then they hitchhike back to Uglymart, hoping that no cop sees
them hitchhiking and arrests them for some outstanding warrant...

But there are happier people than trailer trash whores living in
Uglymart. There are also obscene 50-room mansions owned by filthy rich
farmers. They stand ostentatiously flaunting a wealthy lifestyle within
view of the shanty town of Uglimart...

Steinbeck set the horrifically tragic ending of his social protest
novel "Grapes of Wrath" near Uglymart, or perhaps Idunno, where rich
farmers and agrobusiness own all the land and many of the working class
still live in squalor, like those toothless Okie girls that sit on
plastic milk crates by the convenience store, hoping to sell their
bodies for a few dollars in order to feed their kids...

If you saw the 1930's film version of "Grapes of Wrath", you probably
enjoyed its brave ending. The hard-up Joads left the government camp at
Weedpatch and went off to work, expecting a bright future...

In the book, Pa Joad was shot for stealing a chicken, Rose of Sharon's
baby was born dead in a boxcar during a torrential rainstorm and the
baby's corpse was floated down the road in a wooden box, where it was
hoped that its rotting body would wash up on the streets of a wealthy
San Joqueen valley farming community and arouse the social conscience
of the fat farmers...

Across the valley from Uglymart, there's a truly bucolic dirt road that
I visit as often as I can. It's a county road that leads over to a hot
springs hidden in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. A cattle ranch
grazes truly contented Texas longhorns on tender grass near a creek
where Native Americans once ground acorns into flour to make their
acorn bread. I can count the holes in the rock where Indian ladies sat
and pounded acorns and gossiped 150 years ago...

I sit beside the peaceful dirt road with my binoculars and watch Bald
and Golden Eagles, Red-tailed Hawks and there's a Prairie Falcon that
has a nest on a huge boulder. I love to watch the Falcon in the
beautiful green valley that is so distant from the social inequality of
Uglymart and Cowpoop...

A county employee out enjoying the sunny day on that dirt road stopped
to chat and we talked about life for about an hour. I tried to talk to
him about John Steinbeck's social protest in "Grapes of Wrath", and he
told me that he didn't think much of Steinbeck. He said that Steinbeck
was "mean" to the farmers...

Steinbeck himself said that some of the farmers of the San Joqueen
valley wanted to kill him for exposing the social inequalities around
here. He couldn't live there anymore. And nobody wanted to sell him any
real estate. He wanted to buy the old Trask ranch so he could write
"East of Eden" in the country that his grandfather had pioneered...

It isn't exactly Hooverville along the dirt roads of Cowpoop and
Uglymart yet but there's no guarantee there won't be a Bushville in our
immediate future. Where is John Steinbeck?
We're going to need him again to write about dirt roads and social
inequalities...
Bob Mann
2005-06-12 21:49:43 UTC
Permalink
Post by Groucho
Socialism evolves from communism to capitalism, according to my cousin
Karl...
<snip>
<golf clap>
--
Bob Mann

Before you critisize someone,
you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you critisize them,
you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
High Plains Thumper
2005-06-13 01:27:45 UTC
Permalink
Post by Tom Quackenbush
Post by Groucho
Socialism evolves from communism to capitalism, according
to my cousin Karl...
<snip>
<golf clap>
I'm surprised he didn't crosspost to 8 other ng, including
soc.men.
--
HPT
Bob Mann
2005-06-13 01:58:32 UTC
Permalink
On Mon, 13 Jun 2005 01:27:45 -0000, High Plains Thumper
Post by High Plains Thumper
Post by Tom Quackenbush
Post by Groucho
Socialism evolves from communism to capitalism, according
to my cousin Karl...
<snip>
<golf clap>
I'm surprised he didn't crosspost to 8 other ng, including
soc.men.
Normally something of that magnitude is shared amongst the many.
--
Bob Mann

Before you critisize someone,
you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you critisize them,
you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
Chuck Rhode
2005-06-13 15:11:27 UTC
Permalink
Groucho wrote this on Sun, 12 Jun 2005 08:35:24 -0700. My reply is
below.
Post by Groucho
It isn't exactly Hooverville along the dirt roads of Cowpoop and
Uglymart yet but there's no guarantee there won't be a Bushville in
our immediate future. Where is John Steinbeck? We're going to need
him again to write about dirt roads and social inequalities...
Well, there you go. I've been wondering what it takes to raise up a
new brood of muckrakers like Upton Sinclair, Ida Tarbell, and Frank
Norris, who began publishing a generation before Steinbeck. Whatever
it takes, we don't have it, yet.

I read GRAPES OF WRATH. It was difficult and unpleasant and nowhere
nearly so smarmy as a Ford/Fonda movie. I think I read Norris' A DEAL
IN WHEAT. I recall that being more accessible. To prepare for my
upcoming pilgrimage to Mother Jones' grave, I may have to delve into
Sinclair's KING COAL.

Anyway, you remember the Depression Era photo of a mother holding an
infant and gazing away out of the frame while her older children avert
their faces ~ a sort of Public Works PIETA ~ or perhaps a LAOCOON.

Here's a page with a link to a copy of the photo:

"One of the most haunting images to come out of the dark days of the
dust bowl and great depression is this photograph by Dorthea
Lange. She was commissioned by the Farm Security Administration to
chronicle the plight of the displaced farmers during the dust
bowl. Dorthea found this migrant mother on the road in 1936. The
mother's eyes tell the viewer all he/she needs to know. The expression
of fear and and hopelessness are reflected in her eyes as she appears
to be looking down the road to a very uncertain future. This
photograph became an American icon of the dust bowl days and brought
an awareness of the struggles of the "Okies" by putting a human face
on this tragedy. But sometimes things work out and this story has a
happy ending. More than a decade after this photograph was taken our
migrant mother was found living comfortably in California, the dust
bowl but a bitter memory. Life had changed for her and her family and
the move to California had been an economic boon. For many other
"Okies" though the story ended quite differently. An estimated 210,000
emigrants came to California during the dust bowl, many of whom were
forced to return home after failing to locate employment in the Golden
State. Only approximately 16,000 remained."

http://www.theroadwanderer.net/66Oklahoma/route66OK.htm

I wish the people who post things like that would cite references;
nevertheless, that sounds about right.

Some say it took a World War (and the exploitation of the vast pool of
underemployed labor in California to support the Pacific Fleet) to
level American society, but I think the US political elite were scared
shitless by Huey Long in Louisiana (and Adolph Hitler in Europe). They
could see what class warfare would look like on a large scale and took
steps to avert it in this country by minimizing distinctions of
opportunity *and outcome* between the hoity-toity and the hoi polloi.
--
.. Chuck Rhode, Sheboygan, WI
.. 1979 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Geraldine)
.. 1978 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Fenris)
.. http://www.excel.net/~crhode/RockyGnashtoothsWeather/
.. 66°F. Wind Calm. Mostly clear. Mist.
Chuck Rhode
2005-06-13 15:47:55 UTC
Permalink
Chuck Rhode wrote this on Mon, 13 Jun 2005 10:11:27 -0500. My reply is
below.
Post by Chuck Rhode
by Huey Long in Louisiana (and Adolph Hitler in Europe).
... and I might've added Juan and Evita Peron in Argentina.
--
.. Chuck Rhode, Sheboygan, WI
.. 1979 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Geraldine)
.. 1978 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Fenris)
.. http://www.excel.net/~crhode/RockyGnashtoothsWeather/
.. 70°F. Wind Calm. Clear. Mist.
Groucho
2005-06-13 21:07:14 UTC
Permalink
Post by Chuck Rhode
"One of the most haunting images to come out of the dark days of the
dust bowl and great depression is this photograph
http://www.theroadwanderer.net/66Oklahoma/route66OK.htm
Thanks for the link, Chuck...

I'm not saying this to brag, but I'm a 10th generation American. That's
just for historical perspective. This is the tale of how we Americans
were screwed out of our land...

Seeing my last name on historical people and understanding how I'm
related to various presidents made history a lot less boring to me, and
stimulated me to learn What Happened and Why...

My ancestors came over here and lived with the Pilgrims and started
looking for free land. They began out by asking some Indians if they
could build a house on some land as far away from Salem as they could
walk in a day. That land became Boston. The Puritans were just too
much, so they moved over to Rhode Island and started a farm. That
became Providence...

Some of the family started a very successful textile empire in Rhode
Island. They had whole towns of textile workers that they ran like
feudal estates. They were nobility without patent. Two of them were
governors of Rhode island...

The most notorious of that line of the family was governor of Rhode
Island, a general in the Civil War and a US senator who was impeached
for his dealings with Confederate cotton growers in Texas. His
inability to pay off his creditors during The Panic of 1873 led to the
largest bankruptcy in US history to that date. His total debts were
only about $20 million, but a dollar was worth maybe $100 in today's
dollars, so he wrote off about $2 billion in debt. Or would it be $2
trillion? I guess that really contributed to The Panic of 1873...

Around the beginning of the Civil War, he was considered to be the
richest man in North America. That was before the Rockefellers came
along, and way before the Kennedys arrived on the scent of New Money...

My great great great grandfather Abraham apparently had the misfortune
not to be a direct heir to the family's already Old Money. It seems
that somebody in Rhode Island who didn't own land couldn't vote either.


Something drove a wild hair up Abraham's ass and he moved over to the
northeastern corner of Ohio, which was reserved for veterans of the
Revolutionary War and the War of 1812. There were various Homestead
acts that made free land available to citizens and escpecially
veterans...

Abraham applied for a Revolutionary War pension and tried to get the
free land, but he couldn't find his papers. He'd only been 13 went he
ran off to fight in the war...

Abraham moved on and homesteaded (or speculated) in land in Illinois,
where he was one of the first pioneers in Edgar county, and then built
one of the first cabins in Decatur, Illinois. For some reason, his son
Harrison couldn't hold still, he was one of the first pioneers in
Missouri.

Some of Harrison's kids went off to homestead Nebraska. I can't tell
which Missouri land claim Harrison homesteaded but he had several 40
and 80 acre sections of land. Maybe he was speculating in land. I dunno
for sure. Apparently it was all sold, except the piece that my great
grandfather Augustus owned in northen Missouri.

When Augustus died, he had 80 acres in southeastern Kansas and that was
all split up when the will was probated years after his death. My dad
got 2 acres, which he sold immediately. So much for free land in
America.

I could go on and on and on about how my people kept looking for land
and moving west and homesteading or buying land from the government
land office. Another branch did the Dakota Territory, Montana, and
Colorado...

The problem was that the further they moved west, the less rainfall
there was, so a single family couldn't subsist on only 80 acres of
land. Maybe they could run cattle on it, but one family couldn't make
it on 80 un-irrigated acres...

The homesteaders who did try to "make a go of it" on their free land
borrowed money from banks to improve the land and buy seed and
agricultural machinery. But, when they couldn't make a crop, the banks
foreclosed and took the land. Banks aren't in the business of owning
land, they are in the business of lending money. So they sold the land
to Land and Cattle Companies, and it eventually wound up being owned by
agrobusiness

In his book "Beyond the 100th Meridian", Wallace Stegner described the
plight of the homesteader west of Iowa where it was just too dry to
farm.
Stegner believed that the Spanish and Mexican land grant system would
work better. He figured that a homseteader needed about 1725 acres to
run cattle...

My great great grandfather's cousin Henry was the most successful in
Nebraska, he had 1200 improved acres and he bred and sold horses and
shipped them east...

In California and New Mexico, rich Yankee businessmen and lawyers
screwed the Mexican pouplation out of their land after the War with
Mexico. The king of Spain had given about 80 land grants in California
to loyal citizens of Spain. After Mexico became independant, 1000 more
land grants were distributed to loyal Mexican citizens. The Mexican
holders of land grants thought that the land was theirs in perpetuity,
but tricky Yankee lawyers wanted to screw them out of the land. They
filed suit in San Francisco and notices were posted in English language
newspapers. The Mexican land grant holders didn't know anything was
going on until they were evicted. Same thing happened in New Mexico.
Land grantees that had be living around Taos and Santa Fe for centuries
were kicked off their lands, and people like Jane Fonda and her husband
are the biggest land owners in the area...

And, circling back to the Okies, many of them had been homesteaders,
they'd owned their land, but their crops failed during the dustbowl,
they had to sell their land and became sharecroppers on land where
their families had lived for generations...

When they migrated to California looking for work, they found
themselves in an established Republican matrix where the poor just
didn't fit at all...

My great grandfather who first came to California wasn't an Okie
though.
He'd been born in Illinois, tried homesteading in Iowa and the Dakota
Territory, and Kansas, but he wound up in California working as a
janitor for an oil drilling company at nearly 80 years old. That's why
the family is here now...

For about 150 years, rich Republican farmers have been exploiting the
great central valley where I live now. There was a great 400 square
mile forest here and a huge lake and salmon ran in the rivers and the
rivers ran all year. But most of the oak trees were chopped down and
the rivers re-routed to irrigate crops and the grasslands bulldozed
flat to make room for orange groves...

And times change. As the population grows, cattle ranches and
agricultural land become more valuable for real estate than for what
can be produced on the land, so the orange groves are being bulldozed
to make room for tract houses on land that's worth $100K per acre. If
you put four $1 million custom houses on that acre, some bank is
eventually going to make about $11.9 million off that land where
nothing but orange trees had stood...
Post by Chuck Rhode
Some say it took a World War (and the exploitation of the vast pool of
underemployed labor in California to support the Pacific Fleet) to
level American society, but I think the US political elite were scared
shitless by Huey Long in Louisiana (and Adolph Hitler in Europe). They
could see what class warfare would look like on a large scale and took
steps to avert it in this country by minimizing distinctions of
opportunity *and outcome* between the hoity-toity and the hoi polloi.
There was a historic meeting between Adolf Hitler and Benito Mussolini
about 1934. Adolf took the train to meet benny and Adolf wore his
civvies. Benny was all togged out in his spiffy uniform that would have
inspired Hermann Goering. Adolf is said to have been pissed when he
whispered to his aide, "Why didn't you warn me that *he'd* be in
uniform?
I should have worn my uniform!"

Hitler was very impressed by what Mussolini had done to organize Italy.
He decided that Fascism was the Way To Go for Germany, which had only
recently begun to resume some stability after the post WWI civil war...

Hitler wasn't the only politician impressed by Mussolini. A Time Life
book I recently read said that Franklin D. Roosvelt and his cabinet
were studying books on Fascism and discussing that as a possible
solution to the economic problems of the Great Depression...

Kurt Vonnegut Jr. posed an interesting question about the Great
Depression's dearth of money in the purses of Americans. He asked where
all the money came from after Pearl Harbor, if there was no money in
1941. Vonnegut suggested that a vast Ponzi Scheme had produced the
sudden
change in the money supply...

Of course we know now that Roosevelt had been convinced of the
"validity" of Keynesian Deficit Spending, so he'd borrowed and borrowed
and borrowed to finance WWII...

But the War Bonds drived continued up through 1945 in order to raise
money to defeat Japan. As I recall, the author of "Flags of Our
Fathers" said the last War Bond Drive raised something like $14 billion
to finally defeat the "Empire of the Sun"...

Where did this $14 billion come from? Did Republican farmers have it
buried in their back yards since 1929?
Chuck Rhode
2005-06-14 14:19:06 UTC
Permalink
Groucho wrote this on Mon, 13 Jun 2005 14:07:14 -0700. My reply is
below.
Post by Groucho
Where did this $14 billion come from? Did Republican farmers have it
buried in their back yards since 1929?
I ought to own a certain trepidation about replying to a post more
diffuse and rambling than mine. I sense a snare prepared but can't put
my finger on it. Better I should step into it, I suppose.

Yes, I think everyday folks in all walks of life (even Communists)
coughed up their savings to buy war bonds.

World War II was an exercise in creative destruction. Idle factories
were retooled. Rusting equipment went back to the smelter. Back
yards were planted to gardens. Bad loans were written off. It was a
jubilee of economic production even while public consumption trumped
the private sector. A lot of capital that had been tied up and
forgotten about suddenly came back into circulation.

People had definite ideas about which side their bread was buttered
on, and it wasn't on the Fascist side. What was true of Everyman went
double for the rich.
--
.. Chuck Rhode, Sheboygan, WI
.. 1979 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Geraldine)
.. 1978 Honda Goldwing GL1000 (Fenris)
.. http://www.excel.net/~crhode/RockyGnashtoothsWeather/
.. 70°F. Wind SSW 15 mph. Mostly cloudy.
Vito
2005-06-14 15:16:10 UTC
Permalink
Post by Groucho
My ancestors came over here and lived with the Pilgrims and started
looking for free land. They began out by asking some Indians if they
could build a house on some land as far away from Salem as they could
walk in a day. That land became Boston. The Puritans were just too
much, so they moved over to Rhode Island and started a farm. That
became Providence...
Must have known my maternal kin, or maybe we're related. They had big
plantation in RI & Conn - only ones of my ancestors to own slaves. The rest
were from the south but were millers and craftsmen. Funny, slave owning
yankees <g>
Groucho
2005-06-14 17:20:59 UTC
Permalink
Post by Vito
Must have known my maternal kin, or maybe we're related. They had big
plantation in RI & Conn -
Do you have any Bartlett, Tilden, Thurston, Dexter, Hubbell, Morgan or
Sprague ancestors? Anybody doing their own Yankee genealogy is lucky to
find they have a Sprague ancestor, because the Spragues are so well
documented back to their arrival in Salem in 1628.
Post by Vito
only ones of my ancestors to own slaves.
I can see an item in the will of one of my ancestors that shows he
probably owned a slave. Her name was "Bess Negro" and the item in the
will is apparently to bequeath her a small amount of money for gloves
to be worn at a funeral. His own funeral, I dunno?

It's likely that Bess was a household servant. I hope they treated Bess
well. If they beat her and kept her in chains, what can I do about it?
Did I inherit his Karma?
Post by Vito
The rest were from the south but were millers and craftsmen.
My southern connection begins with one Peter Carrico who seems to have
been the son of a Sephardic Jew named Pedro Dias Carrico. Pedro fled
the Spanish Inquistion and went to France. Peter Carrico was
transported to Maryland about 1765 as an indentured servant and he got
50 acres of land at the end of his service. Peter's son married a
daughter or granddaughter of Marmaduke Semmes in Charles County,
Maryland. One of Marmaduke's granddaughters married Joseph Christmas
Ives, who was Jefferson Davis' personal aide. Marmaduke Semmes was also
the ancestor of Admiral Rafael Semmes, the hero of the Confederate
Navy. There was also a General Semmes...
Post by Vito
Funny, slave owning yankees <g>
No, not a bit funny. Ironic and tragic. Yessir, we were Yankees on that
side of the family...

Do you believe in Karma?

My relative's textile empire was built upon a pyramid of human misery
with the most successful member of the family, Governor/General/Senator
William Sprague III, at the pinnacle, and untold thousands of slaves
suffering at the bottom. The empire was built on cotton picked by those
slaves and the final product was calico cloth...

William Sprague III was the richest man in North America in 1862 when
he married the daughter of Salmon P. Chase, Lincoln's Secretery of War
and also Secretery of the Treasury. Lincoln was probably there. The
wedding took place in the White House, and the happy couple were later
compared to Prince Charles and Lady Diana...

You can easily see why he needed the Civil War to be over quickly. The
war was interrupting the flow of cotton. General Sprague claimed that
the Civil War would be over in a matter of days, 48 hours, as I recall.
The Rhode Island volunteers thought they'd complete their 90-day
enlistments and go home. They all demanded to go home, they were
unhappy campers, waiting for the Union to get its shit together in the
first year of the war...

Did William Sprague give a damn about the slaves? I don't know, I
haven't researched that aspect. I do know that he was censured by the
Congress for continuing to trade with Texas cottongrowers during the
Civil War.

Some of the Sprague family were abolitionists. They struggled against
slavery. I don't know if my great great grandfather would have enlisted
in the Union Army if Confederate troops hadn't occupied Memphis,
Missouri. He may have fought at Shiloh, I can't prove it, but one of
his sons did fight at Shiloh and at Vicksburg.

One his cousins was at the Battle of Shiloh when 44,000 screaming
rebels overran their encampment in the early hours of that April
morning in 1862. Six of the Union soldiers in his company of the 29th
Illinois Infantry were killed. He was one of them...

About those Yankee Spragues that exploited slaves:

The Spragues lived in Cranston, Rhode Island.

The most famous and important of Cranston's industries was the Cranston
Print Works, owned by the Sprague family. It was the hub of an
industrial empire that, by the 1860s, reached from Maine to North
Carolina. The Print Works began in 1807 when William Sprague decided to
convert his gristmill on the banks of the Pocasset River into a small
cotton mill for carding and spinning yarn. Eventually, Sprague and his
son, William II, installed water-driven power looms on a large scale,
lowering production costs and increasing output. The Spragues were the
first in the nation to print calico, and they also pioneered in
chemical bleaching.

The A&M Sprague Company was diverse, they had other industries, but
they needed to build housing for their white textile workers. They
established company towns called Spraguetown for the workers to live
in. The residents of Spraguetowns were required to behave in an orderly
manner, the illiterate impoverished textile workers were a little
better off than a serf on a feudal manor, but they weren't allowed to
argue or fight or get drunk, since they'd be fired for bad behavior.

The re-united Union was on very shaky economic grounds during the 10
years of reconstruction, since infrastructure had been destroyed and
the labor force of the South were now Free Men. That sure upset the
cotton economy...

And, as I said previously, the Panic of 1873 brought the A&M Sprague
Company crashing down. William Sprague couldn't borrow any more money
to stave off his creditor$...

His bankruptcy was the biggest bankruptcy in US history up to that
date. In today's dollars it would have been about $2 billion or $2
trillion.

There are still statues of General William Sprague III in Rhode Island
and the Sprague Mansion which was the Governor's House still stands in
Cranston...

The *big* Sprague mansion, Canonchet, built upon the misery of slaves,
mysteriously burned down...

Senator Sprague died in self exile in Paris, France, in 1915. He was
divorced. He'd been a wife beater. Kate Chase Sprague left him. He
drove his only son to suicide. That ended his branch of the family...

Do you believe in Karma? Was General Sprague really *evil* or was he
just a good businessman who failed in the worst of times?
Turby
2005-06-15 11:23:10 UTC
Permalink
Post by Chuck Rhode
Groucho wrote this on Sun, 12 Jun 2005 08:35:24 -0700. My reply is
below.
Post by Groucho
It isn't exactly Hooverville along the dirt roads of Cowpoop and
Uglymart yet but there's no guarantee there won't be a Bushville in
our immediate future. Where is John Steinbeck? We're going to need
him again to write about dirt roads and social inequalities...
Well, there you go. I've been wondering what it takes to raise up a
new brood of muckrakers like Upton Sinclair, Ida Tarbell, and Frank
Norris, who began publishing a generation before Steinbeck. Whatever
it takes, we don't have it, yet.
I read GRAPES OF WRATH. It was difficult and unpleasant and nowhere
nearly so smarmy as a Ford/Fonda movie. I think I read Norris' A DEAL
IN WHEAT. I recall that being more accessible. To prepare for my
upcoming pilgrimage to Mother Jones' grave, I may have to delve into
Sinclair's KING COAL.
Anyway, you remember the Depression Era photo of a mother holding an
infant and gazing away out of the frame while her older children avert
their faces ~ a sort of Public Works PIETA ~ or perhaps a LAOCOON.
"One of the most haunting images to come out of the dark days of the
dust bowl and great depression is this photograph by Dorthea
Lange. She was commissioned by the Farm Security Administration to
chronicle the plight of the displaced farmers during the dust
bowl. Dorthea found this migrant mother on the road in 1936. The
mother's eyes tell the viewer all he/she needs to know. The expression
of fear and and hopelessness are reflected in her eyes as she appears
to be looking down the road to a very uncertain future. This
photograph became an American icon of the dust bowl days and brought
an awareness of the struggles of the "Okies" by putting a human face
on this tragedy. But sometimes things work out and this story has a
happy ending. More than a decade after this photograph was taken our
migrant mother was found living comfortably in California, the dust
bowl but a bitter memory. Life had changed for her and her family and
the move to California had been an economic boon. For many other
"Okies" though the story ended quite differently. An estimated 210,000
emigrants came to California during the dust bowl, many of whom were
forced to return home after failing to locate employment in the Golden
State. Only approximately 16,000 remained."
http://www.theroadwanderer.net/66Oklahoma/route66OK.htm
I wish the people who post things like that would cite references;
nevertheless, that sounds about right.
My father was an Okie who escaped the dust bowl to SoCal. Lange's
photo reminded me of another great book:
Let Us Now Praise Famous Men, by James Agee, with photos by Walker
Evans.
--
Turby the Turbosurfer
Desert Rat
2005-06-11 18:11:29 UTC
Permalink
Post by Bryan
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.
It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley
350 single, Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster,
they all ran the dirt...
If you were reading the motorbike magazines from the mid-1960's to the
mid-1970's, it seemed like everybody was interested in dirt bikes. Not
too many cared about big street bikes or going anywhere, you had to be
a nutcase to get out on the highway and ride a whole hundred miles on a
buzzy, uncomfortable motorbike...

Motorbike riders' horizons were very close. Any vacant lot, small hill,
or dirt trail in California had a Hodaka or an AT-1 or some sort of
little
2-stroke dirtbike going ring-a-ding-ding in the afternoon after school
let out and all day on weekends...

Serious riders loaded up their dirtbikes and headed out for the wide
open desert and rode in huge Hare and Hound races that might make vast
loops from a central starting area and back and go around again.
Hundreds of dirtbikes ran in these races and there were large AMA
Desert Racing Clubs
for riders who wanted to socialize. They would all camp together and
party the night before the race and make a weekend family event of it.
Kiddies would ride their mini-bikes around and around the camp area...

But the desert racers and the kids in vacant lots were too visible. The
hillclimbers scarred hillsides with their tire ruts that are still
visible from the freeway 34 years after the areas were closed to casual
dirt riding...

The beginning of the end was evident by 1969. The riders were riding
their dirtbikes were everywhere and that just had to stop!

California's government saw the dirt riders as evidence of *chaos* of
the worst kind. The kids riding the dirt bikes were *unlicensed* to
start with, and the dirtbikes they were riding on private land adjacent
to highways were *unregistered*. The state government saw that they
could capitalize on registration, at least, though they couldn't afford
to patrol every acre of desert and chase down 12 year old kids on
Hodakas...

The highways were a bottleneck for the dirt riders wishing to go to the
desert. California demanded that each dirtbike be *identified* as an
*off-highway vehicle*, and pay a renewal fee every two years for
renewal...

The citizenry of the desert was angry about the dirt riders who would
haul their motorbikes from Los Angeles every weekend and begin riding
their noisy expansion chamber-equipped 2 strokes at 6AM evert Saturday
and Sunday...

The desert was criss-crossed with trails and the habitat of the Desert
Tortoise, certain lizards, kangaroo rats, and insects were threatened.
The environmentalists were upset...

One newbie dirt rider found out that I went dirt riding every weekend
and begged to go along with me. So I took him out and showed him where
there were trails far away from the road that he could explore without
bothering private property owners...

Then he got his own truck and didn't have to pay attention to what I
was telling him. We arrange to meet in the desert and I followed him to
where he decided to park. He parked in front of a private property
owner's weekend cabin and unloaded his bike. I told him that parking
there was a bad idea, but maybe the property owner wouldn't mind if we
just parked there and headed out for distant trails. He told me that he
was in the desert, and that it was all dirt, and that his bike was a
dirtbike, so he would ride on any dirt he pleased...

He told me the same thing when he discovered a vacant lot in the middle
of Culver City and wanted to ride on it. He said, "It's dirt, I'm going
to ride on it instead of going clear out to the desert."

The area where we rode in the desert was a mixture of private property
that had roads graded years before, expecting a housing development to
begin and Bureau of Land Management lands that were leased to shepherds
and ranchers to graze livestock. A huge area to the north was the vast
Tejon Ranch and there was a canyon in the middle of Tejon Ranch was was
BLM land...

So the Tejon Ranch was allowing dirtriders to cross ranch property to
get to the infamous Bean Canyon that dirtriders enjoyed tearing up.
Some riders liked to chase jackrabbits on their dirtbikes, they thought
it was fun to run a rabbit until it was exhausted and could run no
more...

There was a herd of wild horses on Tejon Ranch. Some of the stupid
riders would chase the horses. One day a bunch of riders saw a lone
horse grazing the open range on Tejon Ranch and they chased it into a
barbed wire fence where it got entangled and died. It was a
thoroughbred Arabian stallion, and the Tejon Ranch owners were furious.
They closed Bean Canyon and when I went to the gate, there were armed
guards waiting to stop me from crossing ranch property...

That was in 1970 or 1971. San Bernardino County closed all their vast
desert, an area larger than most eastern states to dirtbike riding. By
1972, most desert areas in Kern and Los Angeles Counties were closed to
dirtriding. Dirtbike racers had to drive almost to Inyo County or down
to
the Low Desert if they wanted to ride their dirtbikes. I had to spend
$20 on gas in my truck and drive for three hours to go burn $2 worth of
gas
in my dirtbike...

With most of the desert closed to dirtbike riding, the riders asked
where they could ride their dirtbikes that they had registered as
off-highway vehicles. The State of California had promised to obtain
property for Off-Highway Vehicle Parks where the dirt riders could
play. And there were several commercial private dirtbike parks that
temporarily satisfied the riders a little bit. They had to pay to get
into the park and ride around with a crowd of other dirt riders. The
official Off-Highway Vehicle parks were scattered all over the state of
California, and, for most riders, the closest Off-Highway Vehicle park
was 75 to 100 miles away. Some of the more remote areas were half way
from Los Angeles to Las Vegas...

Wealthier owners of Winnebagos and dirtbikes would still go out and
camp in what became the East Mojave Scenic Area in the 1980's. That was
another area that had to be "protected" from the tire tracks of
dirtbikes...

So dualport motorbike clubs were organized and events were organized
for responsible riders. The dualsport bikes had to be licensed,
street-equipped and insured. The Winnebago owners would haul their
dualsport machines far out into the desert and camp and try to retrieve
the nostalgia of the days when real dirtbikes would snarl across the
open desert...

One dualsport even was scheduled and the BLM was advised that part of
the route would follow the historic Fort Mojave Road, which was a set
of wagon ruts that ran from Fort Mojave on the Colorado River to Afton
Canyon, east of Barstow....

Although the historic ruts are open to four wheel drive trucks, the BLM
decided that the dualsport bikes might damge the "historic" center berm
of the old Fort Mojave Road and the event was cancelled...

Back in 1942-43, General George Patton trained his tank drivers in the
desert east of Indi0. Sixty-two years later, the tank tracks are still
visible and they are historic, so they are protected. Don't drive your
dirtbike or dune buggy across them and damage them...

Same thing in Oregon. The Oregon Trail wagon ruts are 156 years old. Do
not damage those wagon ruts, they are a national treasure...

And, the California Highway Patrol *still* has a hard-on for kids on
dirtbikes. I rode my off-highway motorbike that was once a dualsport
across the highway recently, just as a CHP was passing by. He saw that
I had no headlight burning, and my green sticker was expired. I hadn't
ridden it in so long, the computer in Sacramento had no record of the
motorbike.

The old bike was back to square one on registration. I was supposed to
have
re-newed the green sticker or filed a certificate of non-operation...

So the cop wrote me up for no registration and no insurance. He was
talking about impounding my poor old dirtbike, but he looked at me and
saw I was no kid. He asked how old I was and I told him, so he cut me
some slack on towing the motorbike...

I believed didn't need registration or insurance for a green sticker
dirtbike. The judge dismissed the registration part, but wouldn't drop
the proof of insurance violation. Nobody that owns a green sticker dirt
bike carries insurance on it, I didn't need insurance to re-identify
the motorbike as an off-highway vehicle, but I decided to re-register
the machine as a dualsport bike, insure it and see how the CHP treats
me now...

I think they will still treat me like shit for riding a dualsport...
Bob Mann
2005-06-11 19:22:18 UTC
Permalink
Post by Desert Rat
If you were reading the motorbike magazines from the mid-1960's to the
mid-1970's, it seemed like everybody was interested in dirt bikes. Not
too many cared about big street bikes or going anywhere, you had to be
a nutcase to get out on the highway and ride a whole hundred miles on a
buzzy, uncomfortable motorbike...
And then, along came Bronson.
--
Bob Mann

Before you critisize someone,
you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you critisize them,
you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
Desert Rat
2005-06-12 07:08:25 UTC
Permalink
Post by Bob Mann
Post by Desert Rat
If you were reading the motorbike magazines from the mid-1960's to the
mid-1970's, it seemed like everybody was interested in dirt bikes. Not
too many cared about big street bikes or going anywhere, you had to be
a nutcase to get out on the highway and ride a whole hundred miles on a
buzzy, uncomfortable motorbike...
And then, along came Bronson.
Remember how Bronson's Sportster turned into a CZ or an Aermacchi 250
if the stunt rider needed to climb a hill or ride in the dirt?
Everybody was riding dirt until about 1972 or 1973...

By 1974, with the most of the desert closed or so far away I had to
drive
200 miles each way to go dirt bike riding, I bought the biggest
Japanese road bike I could afford...

I pulled into a gas station in Bronson's turf, Big Sur, to gas up on my
way to San Francisco. The gas station attendant took one look at me,
dressed in in levis and a levi jacket and wearing a Navy watch cap and
said, "Hey man, you ain't Bronson!"

The heck I wasn't. I was more "Bronson" than Michael Parks was. He was
just a soft-spoken Hollyweird actor, playing a pacifist role. I was a
biker, living the lifestyle...
Bob Mann
2005-06-12 14:51:49 UTC
Permalink
Post by Desert Rat
Post by Bob Mann
Post by Desert Rat
If you were reading the motorbike magazines from the mid-1960's to the
mid-1970's, it seemed like everybody was interested in dirt bikes. Not
too many cared about big street bikes or going anywhere, you had to be
a nutcase to get out on the highway and ride a whole hundred miles on a
buzzy, uncomfortable motorbike...
And then, along came Bronson.
Remember how Bronson's Sportster turned into a CZ or an Aermacchi 250
if the stunt rider needed to climb a hill or ride in the dirt?
Everybody was riding dirt until about 1972 or 1973...
By 1974, with the most of the desert closed or so far away I had to
drive
200 miles each way to go dirt bike riding, I bought the biggest
Japanese road bike I could afford...
I pulled into a gas station in Bronson's turf, Big Sur, to gas up on my
way to San Francisco. The gas station attendant took one look at me,
dressed in in levis and a levi jacket and wearing a Navy watch cap and
said, "Hey man, you ain't Bronson!"
The heck I wasn't. I was more "Bronson" than Michael Parks was. He was
just a soft-spoken Hollyweird actor, playing a pacifist role. I was a
biker, living the lifestyle...
They are still doing that with bikes. Remember the m/c chase scene in
Mission Impossible?
The show was okay but that was from the PoV of a young impressionable
kid.
I bought my first bike in 1972, a Ducati 250. Many of my friends had
already been riding for a year or two.
There were a bunch of street bikes at my school in the late 60s but it
wasn't until Honda brought out the big K that people really took
notice.
It was quite an ecclectic mix of bikes too including a couple of
Ducati singles, and AJS 500, A bridgestone and a couple of smaller
Hondas and Yamahas.
Useable dirt was a long way for many of us too although a few had
dedicated dirt bikes. Most who wanted off road capability had the dual
purpose bikes. The Can-Am became very popular for a while.
--
Bob Mann

Before you critisize someone,
you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you critisize them,
you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
Calgary
2005-06-11 12:25:09 UTC
Permalink
On Fri, 10 Jun 2005 21:22:54 -0600, "Bryan"
Post by Bryan
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.
It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley 350 single,
Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster, they all ran the
dirt...
And they weren't bad on the pavement either.
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
Shoot all the engineers for paving them, widening them and
straightening them!
--
Don Binns
RCOS# 7

2000 - Yamaha Venture Millennium Edition

Disclaimer:
This message may contain incidental references to various
brands of motorcycles, vehicles or parts manufacturers.
They are included for informational purposes only and
are not intended to upset, inflame or otherwise disturb
the sensibilities of anyone associated with the brands.
Hyper-sensitive readers of the post who might be upset
with the content are advised to make copious notes,
organize them into a coherent message and then hit the
delete button.


http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/reeky.htm
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/radium1.htm
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/banff.htm
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/kananaskis.htm
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/walkercalgary.htm
http://www3.telus.net/public/dbinns/calgarybrowning.htm
Bob Mann
2005-06-12 14:52:49 UTC
Permalink
Post by the fly
On Fri, 10 Jun 2005 21:22:54 -0600, "Bryan"
Post by Bryan
When I was young, dirt roads were the place where motorcycles ruled.
It did not matter the make or model, CL305, CB450, that Harley 350 single,
Baja 100, an old s90, CB350, Triumph, BSA, Sportster, they all ran the
dirt...
And they weren't bad on the pavement either.
But I met a young man from Kansas (where I graduated high school) and he
said, "What's a dirt road, they are all paved".
Shoot all the engineers for paving them, widening them and
straightening them!
No need to straighten roads in Kansas. ;-)
--
Bob Mann

Before you critisize someone,
you should walk a mile in their shoes.
That way, when you critisize them,
you're a mile away and you have their shoes.
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