Tag: Mike Huber

Tokyo Road: Part 3

By Mike Huber

I slowly awoke to a sunny Tokyo October morning.  It obviously took me a bit to realize it was sunny as I was inside a windowless pod.  Once I was out and about into the busy streets of Tokyo, I could actually embrace the sun’s warmth. It was time to enjoy a coffee and ensure my head was clear from the previous night’s adventure in Akihabara.  Today was the day I was to begin an 8-day motorcycle adventure through Japan.

The caffeine kicked in as I boarded the Tokyo train to Rental819 in Odaiba, where I had reserved a motorcycle 2 weeks prior. Throughout my world travels I have found renting a smaller displacement on a motorcycle when outside the United States is the way to go.  The larger heavier bikes just can’t compete in terms of agility in most other countries.  For Japan I chose a displacement more in the middle as there are expansive highways in Japan where having some more pick up would be required.  A Suzuki V-Strom 500cc would be my chosen steed for this journey through the land of the rising sun.

You never realize the expansiveness and density of Tokyo until you motorcycle through it. I was familiar with driving on the left side of the road as I have been flip flopping directional driving over the past 2 years month to month and country to country. With this level of comfort, I could fully absorb the awesomeness and size of Tokyo in its entirety. With no highway speed cameras it didn’t take long before I was out of the city and on my way towards Mount Fuji, but before that there was one place I wanted to experience.

I was on the outskirts of the Aokigahara Forest as mist and clouds began to surround me while the trees grew denser. This forest is also known as the suicide forest. This location is one of the most used places for suicides on earth. I parked the motorcycle next to a small sedan and decided to do a short hike to stretch out from the 3-hour ride.  As I began hiking it hit me that maybe that sedan belonged to someone that came here with a purpose.  The atmosphere was already very heavy and not wanting to see a body swinging from a tree I opted to end the hike and briskly return to the motorcycle and leave the forest.

A downside of riding this time of year in Japan was that Mount Fuji was hidden behind a wall of clouds.  It reminded me of my home from a previous life near Mount Rainier, which would only show its ghostly glowing during the summer months. It seemed as though today would not be the day I would get my first glimpse of Mount Fuji, so as the sun began to dip into the clouds I opted to find a hotel for the evening, have dinner and prepare a direction for tomorrow’s adventure.

More Huber?  You bet!

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A Telecon with Mike Huber

By Joe Berk

Facebook and Meta were slammed in court yesterday, with a mega-million-dollar award going to a plaintiff claiming harm from Fecebook’s intentionally-addictive interface.  I can see both sides of that argument, and I’m saying that as a guy who is hopelessly addicted.  I can spend hours scrolling mindlessly through all the stupid stuff I see on Facebook (especially, for reasons that would take team a team of psychiatrists to unearth) videos of baby gorillas.

There’s a Facebook feature showing friends who are currently online, which I never paid much attention to.  There’s another feature that allows you to call (through your computer and the Facebook interface) friends who are currently online.  You can probably guess where this is going.  I saw that Mike Huber was online yesterday morning, and I decided to give the Facebook telephone option a try.

A few rings later and Mike and I were conversing, clear as a bell, about a variety of topics.  Mike is in Colombia for a few more days, and we had a great time talking about that wildly-beautiful country.  Oddly enough, Mike ran into Buffalo Bonker down there in Colombia.  I first met Mike on one of the CSC Baja rides when we were filling our gasolina tanks in Cataviña.  Buffalo was also on that ride 8 years ago.  It’s interesting how these motorcycle-based chance encounters can become lifelong friendships.

Lunch with Mike Huber at Las Casitas in Bell, California. It was as good as it looked!
Mike Huber’s top case and jump wings. It led to a conversation that led to a great friendship.
A Buffalo self-portrait in Baja.

That had me thinking about my trips to Colombia.  I love the place.  I did a lot of blogging while I was there.   If you don’t see any friends you can call on Facebook, if you’re tired of listening to warped news shows pretending to be objective, or if you just want to see a bunch of cool photos and a few videos of my Colombian adventures, today is your lucky day…

Colombia’s Mighty Magdalena
Medellin!
Riding the Andes!
Mompos!
More on Mompos
Riding the Andes Part II
La Playa de Belem
Barichara!
Villa de Leyva
Merry Christmas!
Honda
Volcan Nevado del Ruiz
Volcan Nevado del Ruiz: Part I
Volcan Nevado del Ruiz: Part II
Day 8: Sweet Home La Ceja!
AKT Motos in Colombia
Colombia’s Economic Approach
Telenova Review: Bolivar

There you have it.  And if you would like a more in-depth, hand-held, old-fashioned paper-based approach, there’s always Moto Colombia!

More gun stuff? You bet!

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More Huber? Check out A Trip Into The Moment.


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Challenges Abroad

By Mike Huber

Even though I was an IT (information technology) Project Manager for 12 years, a weak point of mine happens to be IT.  Yes, IT.

As an IT team leader one of my greatest strengths is not only placing others in positions where they can excel, but ensuring I do the same for myself. Living in Colombia I happened upon a new challenge. One morning my laptop refused to connect to the Wi-Fi. The laptop I had been using the past two or three years was gifted to me by a friend. This laptop had sort of “fallen off a truck,” or was “found in the alley.”

My guess is the problem I was now faced with was due to the organization it “belonged to” running an audit. I am certain the audit didn’t dig the Colombian IP address, so the laptop was terminated. I now had to purchase a new laptop here in Medellin, Colombia. Shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

Not the case, of course.

Finding a mall in Medellin wasn’t difficult. It was a huge modern three-story mall with nothing but IT and telecom stores. It was a bit overwhelming. I Googled reviews as I walked through the mall and it didn’t take long to settle on a store. I found a representative that spoke decent English to bridge the gap with my never-ending Spanish stumbling. He recommended a few basic machines. I began more research on reviews and picked out a basic laptop that would suffice (mainly for writing ExNotes pieces).

After installing Windows and basic MS apps, I returned to my apartment and noticed something was off. The keyboard was in a different format. It was a Spanish QWERTY layout. OK, not a huge deal: I could learn a new keyboard. What really confused me is they loaded the software for a standard American keyboard. This meant the keys did not match many of the symbols. I learned this on my own, but not before walking the streets of Medellin with my laptop asking locals to assist me. No one else could figure it out, either. This was becoming frustrating, but some relief that it wasn’t my incompetence that caused it.

Returning to my apartment, and after a bit more Google research, I learned to toggle the keyboard to the QWERTY format to match the keyboard, which is where it will stay. Yes, I am sure I could exchange the laptop and hunt down one with a normal keyboard, but what fun would that be?

I will be in South America for quite some time (more on that in another blog), so I thought I would just embrace the change. Also, it is now easier for me to do “¡” and “¿” symbols to impress the locals.

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Coming up…more on Cycle Garden and their impressive work on Moto Guzzi and other Italian motorcycles!

More Huber? Check out A Trip Into The Moment.

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Magnificent Motoliterature!

By Joe Berk

It had to happen:  Good buddy and frequent ExNotes blogger Mike Huber wrote a book!  Mike’s book is A Trip Into The Moment, published by Native Book Publishing.  You should buy it now from Amazon.  Here’s the back cover blurb:

We are a literary bunch, us ExNotes writers.  Joe Gresh and I published a collection of our favorite stories not too long ago, and I’ve penned (or keyboarded) a few myself.  Here’s a link to the Gresh and yours truly book, A Cup O’ Joes:

Want to lose weight, ride faster, and impress your friends?  Add our books to your library and drop a Huber, Gresh, or Berk quote from time to time.  Better yet, buy a copy of each of our books and post this blog’s link on your social media (it will help with sales)!

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Huber. Michael Huber.

By Mike Huber

My apologies as my stories have been quite out of chronological order.  I wrapped up ~2 months in the beautiful country of Nepal. I still have several blogs to write on Everest Base Camp and Annapurna Circuit, and my experiences with the wonderful Nepalese people.  Upon completing my treks there I performed a typical “Huber” and was flipping coins more or less to find a new home.  I was tired of being cold and from hiking daily.  In search of a place where I could relax it seemed that Thailand checked all the boxes.  Thailand has warm weather, great people, food, and I could get some more scuba diving in.  Decision made.

My friend Nigel Rustage from Anum Scuba (www.anumscuba.com) has helped me find amazing live aboards before and is pretty knowledgeable on diving Thailand.  Just prior to arriving in Thailand I asked if he could recommend anything.  It didn’t take him long to respond with a 5 day live aboard that would provide me with 14 dives over my stay on the boat.

Once I was fully thawed out from Nepal and with a short flight to Phuket I was ready to begin diving again.  As I made my way to the pier there was a beautiful wooden tall ship in the bay.  Its name is The Junk.  I learned it would be my new home for the next four nights.  Once on the boat, which housed 22 divers normally, I found out there were only six divers on this trip.  This meant we each would have our own cabins on the boat. Perfect!

The reason for the title of this blog is that The Junk was the actual boat in the James Bond movie, the Man with the Golden Gun.  This made the boat even cooler in my eyes.  Throughout the dive trip that thought kept popping in my head, which was really cool. With the Bond boat being my home I was ready to meet my new diving friends and spend some time underwater around the remote limestone islands that are home in this part of the country.

The next day would be busy since four dives were scheduled.  I try to not do more than three dives per day as I begin to develop ear issues and the key is to be proactive and know when not to dive.  Combine that with on my third dive I got caught in a current that sucked me away from the others I and was forced to resurface after just 20 minutes. Upon surfacing I could hear expletives (coming from me) echoing off the tall limestone islands that surrounded me. I was frustrated.  I have had pretty much every type of mishap you possibly can have in my short 1 year of diving experience.  Mishaps are what make you improve and I understand this, but was a bit distraught with myself nonetheless.  It was bothering me to the point I was questioning if I should continue with this new hobby of mine.

One thing I did not want to do was quit on account of one bad dive. If I was to quit it would be after a good dive so that mentally the door for scuba diving would remain open. With the help of my new dive buddy, Danny, I regained motivation and within the next two dives had overcome the anxiety that was plaguing me. I ended the trip with only seven dives, which I was more than happy with, especially since they only improved once I got back into my rhythm.

A few days later Danny and his girlfriend Rahwa and I met up on the Pei Pei Islands and got to spend a couple days snorkeling and just hanging out around the island having a blast.  Danny had been to this island 10 years prior and introduced me to a speak-easy hidden inside a scuba shop which somewhat resembled a scuba museum with a beautiful wooden bar and some fine whiskeys.

This scuba experience yet again assured my confidence in my diving abilities and the scuba community. Nigel is 2 for 2 with his recommendations so far, and my next trip here I will certainly be reaching out to him.  That will most likely be sooner than later. Thanks again Nigel, Danny, and Rahwa.

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India 2025: Deja Vu All Over Again

By Mike Huber

India:  Part II

As my flight approached Delhi, India, the thoughts in my head began racing back to 2004 when I experienced culture shock for the first time. Being nervous, I was optimistic as I had a couple things in my favor that I didn’t have 20 years prior.  That being technology with our phones and apps, and my experience over the past 20 years traveling to quite a few countries.  I took comfort in that as the plane landed and pulled up to the gate.

The last time I exited the Delhi Airport I was instantly mobbed by a crowd of taxi drivers pulling at my luggage and quoting me absurd prices for a ride to the hotel.  This time was much different, and although there were Ubers, I chose to hire a taxi from the government taxi stand.  Other than a few obvious scams I was not bothered by anyone at all.  It was quite a refreshing change, and after a 45-minute ride I was dropped off at my hotel where I could relax and slowly take in Delhi in a way I was not allowed to 20 years ago.

With memories still lingering from my previous experience in this country I knew that the best way to overcome them was to embrace the culture, not shy away from it. For my first day in India I would take a local bus.  This would not only force me to get over these haunting feelings from the past but enable me to gain my confidence in the most effective way possible. The bus was crowded, but not too overwhelming.  It was a 30-cent ride versus a $3 Uber.

With my renewed confidence in my ability to navigate through this beautiful but chaotic city, the following day I chose to take the subway to Iqbal Motors, the company we were renting our Royal Enfield Himalayans from.  The train was a bit more crowded than the bus.  To the point when I finally found the correct subway (on my third try, but hey I was learning so I went easy on myself) I really had to squeeze into the subway car.  It was a tight fit but not that bad, until the doors opened at the next stop.  Not fully paying attention the next thing I knew I was thrown about 15 feet from the train and was well onto the platform before I realized I had to fight crowds to make it back onto the train prior to it leaving. Not wanting that to happen again I fought my way to the center of the car and faced towards the doors that would open for my stop.  Now it was my turn. As soon as the doors opened I crouched down into a sort of rugby scrum stance and pushed with all my might in order to exit the car.  Success! I was out and just a few blocks from Iqbal Motors.

I was excited to finally meet Iqbal at his shop and check out our new 2025 Royal Enfield Himalayans. The bikes were beautiful and the communication over the previous two months with Iqbal on fine tuning our needs for gear, schedules, and overall itinerary made an otherwise challenging rental easy.  I knew we made the right decision as soon as I met him. I cannot say enough good things about Iqbal and his motorcycle rental company.

Upon saddling up on the Himalayan and taking the bike out for a short blast I instantly understood why this was the chosen motorcycle for India.  All my apprehensions and anxiety about this trip melted away as I zipped through traffic in Delhi.  I was officially excited and ready to spend the next three weeks (or longer) on my new steed.   My friends were set to arrive in two days and I was ready to begin this motorcycle adventure through the crowded, yet mystical country of India.

India Part I is here.

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India Revisited 2025

By Mike Huber

I first went to India in May of 2005.  I was about to graduate Boston University after 9 long years (the 9-year part will probably make for another interesting blog) and knew it was time for a well-deserved break.  At this point of my life traveling abroad was new to me, and I thought India would make for an excellent adventure with all its beauty and intensity.  This trip would also allow me to forego physically going to a boring graduation ceremony (even though it was my own).

I had NO idea what I was doing as it was one of my first trips abroad outside of the Army. Well, the best way to learn is by falling down and skinning your knees, and boy my knees got tore up this trip (I am sure my paratrooper mates will have some smart ass remarks on that line).  It was to be a once in a lifetime adventure (well, twice in a lifetime now).

The trip didn’t start smoothly. As we landed in Trivandrum, the southernmost tip of the country, I was exhausted since I had been up for 30+ hours.  It was late May and the weather was hot and humid.  All I wanted to do was sleep in a hotel with air conditioning.  Eventually, I got my wish and found a hotel room.  As a foreigner I was required to list my friend who was staying with his family as a reference.  The hotel was located in a tiny village that was very remote. My friend pulled me aside as I was checking into the hotel and said he would pick me up in the morning “Don’t do anything stupid” were his parting words that day.  Tall order indeed, but I was wiped and figured that behaving wouldn’t be too difficult.

When I awoke after a solid nap I was hungry and thought I would go get some food. I left the hotel still woozy from the long journey but found a street cart with food.  As I began eating, next to the food cart I noticed quite a traffic jam building up. It seemed I was causing the traffic jam with all the attention I was drawing. They had never seen a white American before.  Cars were stopping to take pictures of me and numerous people approached to have conversations.  After about an hour of talking and singing American music with them it was time for me to return to my room for some more rest.

The following morning my friend showed up mad as hell. “I told you not to do anything stupid.”  I was perplexed as to what he was referring to.  Well, turns out I drew so much attention that an Indian Government Agency (he stated it was the equivalent of the FBI) had called him asking who I was and what I was doing in this remote Indian village. It was more of a health and wellness check than anything, which I could fully appreciate.

After a week I parted ways with my friend and began traveling through northern India on my own.  This was when I got my first solid hit of culture shock, and it hit me bigtime. Being alone and traveling through the bustling streets of Delhi, Agra (to see the Taj Ma Hal), and the Himalayan mountain town of Leh would prove to be a wakeup call that was clearly overdue. There were no cell phones or Google maps to navigate by during this trip.  Add to that the intensity of Delhi traffic and just the overall controlled chaos that overwhelmed every sense and came from every direction possible (and some directions I didn’t even know existed).  It was sensory overload to the point that one day I cancelled all my scheduled tours and stayed in my hotel with the blinds down.  It was that level of intensity just outside my hotel room.  The mix of culture shock and wandering through these places alone made for anxiety I had never felt before. By the time I was packing to leave I felt as though this country had overwhelmed me so much that I was questioning my confidence in traveling.

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The New Year Comes with New Adventures

By Mike Huber

Having spent 11 months abroad and successfully (I am the one gauging the definition of success, by the way) traveling through 7 countries (some multiple times) returning to my home country of the United States of America was a welcome way to round out 2024.  The past month has been filled with catching up with family and friends, as well as catching 3 mice and 12 flying squirrels that seem to have filled my vacancy in my parent’s house in Maine.  The break was also filled with replacing some of my gear and clothes that were “gently used” throughout my travels in Oceania and Southeast Asia.  Outside the occasional waking up at 3:00 a.m. and freaking out that I am sleeping in my old bedroom at my parents’ house, homeless and unemployed (clearly, that should be my intro if I ever join a dating site), it’s been a really productive month.

With the New Year approaching my plan was to begin traveling through South America for the entire year by motorcycle.  In November that plan quickly changed (imagine that) when a fellow rider I had camped with four years ago in Death Valley National Park messaged me and stated that he and another rider were about to embark on a 1-month motorcycle journey through India, Pakistan, Nepal, Bhutan, and Bangladesh in February on Royal Enfield Himalayans. I wasn’t too impressed as I figured it would be some BS tour with a guide and not really count as a motorcycle adventure.  He replied stating that was not the case and it was just the two of them.  It took me about 15 minutes to reply stating that I was in.  He promptly let me know that he wasn’t inviting me and was just discussing the trip with me.  At any rate I invited myself and they seemed okay with that.  I mean, who wouldn’t be?  I am an absolute joy to be around.

This will surely be one of the more challenging adventures for me in quite some time.  It really began to hit me while packing my gear in freezing cold Maine.  Even though this nomadic lifestyle has been my life for the past eight years, there always is some anxiety that comes when the reality of the adventure begins to sink in.  After India, per my usual I have no plan and must mentally prepare to face isolation yet again for an unknown amount of time.  Of course, that is until I meet 100 new beautiful friends, which is sure to happen. Another issue I am concerned with is I sold my BMW GS1250 to my friend who was babysitting it and fell in love with the bike (that’s not hard to do as it’s a great motorcycle).  Well, he sold it, and with it my helmet, jacket, etc.  So, riding these countries with rental gear is something I am apprehensive about.  Buying new gear really isn’t an option as once this trip is wrapped up there is still no definitive plan for my next location or activities. As in the past, I place that as a problem for “Future Mike Huber,” and he is pretty good at figuring these things out.

In the meantime, there are still a few weeks to kill prior to motorcycling India.  I thought scuba diving Mexico would fill that void. Mexico will also serve as a solid way to ease back into traveling and rebuilding my confidence for what is sure to be an adventurous New Year with plenty of stories to come.

Happy New Year to all.

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Season of Change: Part 3

By Mike Huber

I returned to my mat/astral spaceship with a full dose of ayahuasca in a cup that I was about to drink.  This would be my 12th time consuming this magical potion from the jungles of South America.  As I sat staring into the cup that would soon bring me into another world I was as scared as I had ever been in my life, especially having just had one of the most frightening journeys of my life the night prior. Looking into the cup of dark molasses-colored and textured fluid I set my intentions and fearfully drank what was a little over an ounce, but it would prove to be more than enough to benefit me.

Similar to the prior evening I sat back to let the medicine absorb into my body.  There was nothing for me to do but let the medicine perform its work now.  Once the singing of the icaros began I could feel another entity coming towards me, but it wasn’t the panther from the previous night.  It was a War of the Worlds type of jellyfish with tentacles.  I was relaxed since in previous ceremonies this was the hallucination I was used to.  One of the tentacles came down and at the end of it was the pattern of the inside of the ayahuasca vine but I could tell it was an eye scoping me out.  Yet again I was eye to eye with a new entity introducing itself to me.  What was constantly on my mind was if this entity would disappear and return me to the Hell I was in the previous night.

Pretty much as soon as the hopes of not returning to that Hell faded, yup, you guessed it I returned to the exact same Hell as the previous night.  Damn it!  It was for a shorter period of time though (or so I thought as time is relative in the spirit world).  There were no voices or guidance this time, though, so I wasn’t quite sure of the lesson I was being taught (but I did vomit ferociously for quite some time). Once that began to wind down my name was called and I moved to the facilitator that would sing to me face to face.  I was instantly uplifted and felt just pure happiness.  A happiness and peace with myself that I hadn’t felt for years. I was comfortable within my own skin and felt as though I had been reborn and given a new chance to experience life through this new lens that I hadn’t had previously.

That evening I went back into the room to have tea with others and was no longer huddled in the corner.  I participated in the conversations while also checking in on others to ensure none of them felt as I did the previous night. It was one of the best experiences I had to date with this medicine, but I still had one more night to go through, so I was cautious not to become overly comfortable. It was time to rest, eat, hydrate and get my head together for tomorrow night’s final ceremony.

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Mike Huber Stops By

By Joe Berk

Good buddy Mike Huber rolled through So Cal a few days ago and spent the night at Casa Berkowitz.  It was a fun visit.

Mike Huber on the UberMoto. Mike’s current GS is his second one.

I first met Mike on one of the CSC Baja expeditions, and the circumstances of our meeting hit on shared interests (motorcycles and Baja) and a shared background (we are both alums of the Benning School for Boys).

An August 1972 jump school postcard purchased at the Benning School for Boys Post Exchange.

The CSC crew (me and maybe a dozen fellow RX3 riders) had stopped for gasolina on the 200+ mile stretch between Baja’s El Rosario and Guerrero Negro.  Cataviña is about 130 miles south of El Rosario, and for a long time it has been the only place to buy fuel on that section of Mexico’s Highway 1.  There were no gas stations then; enterprising Mexican capitalists sold it from bottles on the side of the road (capitalism rules, my friends).  Today there is a Pemex in Cataviña, but that’s a relatively recent development.

Refueling in Cataviña. That’s good buddy Tuan, an RX3 rider and one of my former students at Cal Poly Pomona.

You can imagine the scene…a dozen bikes crowded around a handful of people selling fuel out of jugs.  Or maybe you don’t have to imagine it; just take a look at the photo above.  It was a hot day, we’d been on the road a while, and we were two days into a seven-day trip.  I looked at the other bikes around me and on one of the motorcycle tailpacks I saw a decal that commands instant and profound respect from anyone who’s been there:  The winged parachute emblem showing that the bearer graduated from the US Army Airborne School at Fort Benning, Georgia.

Mike’s jump wings on the back of his first GS. It was this emblem that first alerted to Mike and his background. Mike’s done 19 jumps (5 in jump school and another dozen when he served with the US Army’s 82nd Airborne Division).
When the jump wings fell off, Mike replaced them with an 82nd Airborne Division decal. The “AA” stands for “All American.”   I learned that when I asked one of my jump school instructors; he first told me that for us trainees, it stood for “Almost Airborne.”   Then he told me the real story.

That’s weird, I thought.  I had only known the guys on this ride for a few days, I’d seen all of their bikes, and if any had been adorned with jump wings I would have picked up on it immediately.  I was pondering how I had missed that when I looked at the guy standing next to the bike.  It was Mike Huber, whom I had not met yet.  My next befuddled thoughts were that I thought I had met everyone.  Where did this guy come from?  Then I looked at the motorcycle.  It wasn’t an RX3.  It was a BMW GS 1200.  The two machines looked enough alike that I had not noticed the difference when Mike worked his way into our herd of turtles at the gas stop in Cataviña.  I looked up at Mike again and he was grinning.  He knew I was confused and I think he was enjoying my being perplexed.

Mike’s current GS 1200. It’s a stunning motorcycle.

Mike and I hit it off immediately.   He stayed with us a couple of nights later in Mulegé (at good buddy Javier’s magnificent Las Casitas Hotel), and we’ve kept in touch ever since.   Mike did a guest blog or two for us here on ExNotes, and he became one of our regular writers last year.

When Mike told me he would pass through our neck of the Peoples Republik, I told him we wanted him to stay the night and enjoy a barbequed salmon dinner with us.

The port saddlebag on Mike’s GS.
And the starboard pannier. Mike gets around, as you know from his blogs here on ExNotes.

We had a great visit.  The Tecate cerveza (and later, the Spanish wine) flowed freely.  Sue crafted a desert we recently learned about on an olive plantation in Spain (see our most recent blog), and it was awesome.

The post-dinner treat: More vino, and chocolate gelato topped with orange-infused olive oil from the Basilippo plantation in Spain. Olive oil on ice cream sounds strange, but take my word on this: It’s wonderful.

As always, it was great to spend time with my good friend and fellow scribe Mike.  The next morning after a good breakfast Mike was in the wind again, headed north toward Ojai, the Bay area, and beyond.  You will be able to read about those travels right here, on your favorite motorcycle blog.

Good times and good friends, folks.  It’s what life is all about.  That, and clicking on the popup ads.

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