Mustang Vintage Solo Seat!

Hooray! The Mustang solo seat I ordered a few weeks ago came in the mail today. What a thing of beauty with its wide, cushy seat.

Anyway, here are the pics showing the installation. The only thing I did apart from the directions was to jam two straws together so I could feed the nylon tie strip directly to the hole where the seat fastens to the bumper. It was just too difficult to try to reach around the tire and aim for the hole with the nylon strip all by itself. By putting the two straws together, feeding them through from the top and around the tire, I was able to quite easily push the tie strip in and push the whole thing up and through. As soon as I removed the straws the nylon tie was easy to handle to pull the nut into position. Yay!

Ladies of Harley - Windmill Ride-Out

If you had driven into the parking lot of the Postillion Hotel in Dordrecht, South Holland, this past Saturday, you might have been a little surprised to see dozens of beautiful Harley motorcycles filling one end of their enormous parking lot. You may have been even more surprised to walk in and find a matching number of ladies dressed in motorcycle leathers drinking coffee, eating cake, and preparing for a ride-out. These women may come from all walks of life, aged from young twenties to mid-sixties, but we all share the passion of riding our Harleys.

Jenny and Gerra  led us through cobble-stone streets of local villages, past more than a hundred windmills, some active and some at rest. When we reached Kinderdike, the only way to see those historic windmills was either by bicycle or boat, so our leaders took us to an enclosed parking area where bikes were parked, helmets were stored in a van, and the fearless Takkey guarded the whole lot while we walked away. The big surprise of the morning was that the Ladies were greeted by a tour boat decorated to the hilt in Ladies of Harley banners.

We glided along the main canal that runs between the windmills with our guide chatting about each windmill. Apparently the group of windmills there were rescued by the government at some point and were offered to willing families for one guilder each - roughly $.60 - with the agreement that the windmills would be restored or kept in working condition and well-maintained. Visitors can still see the water being pumped by the windmills from the polders to the canal or from the canal to a reservoir. Some of the buildings had thatched roofs and tall brick walls while others were mostly thatching with only the first floor bricked in.

After our pleasant cruise, we walked back to the Panarama Restaurant where the bikes were parked and ascended to the top floor where we could see all of Kinderdike's windmills along with a river with barges, sailboats, and recreational boats. Homemade chunky tomato soup, vegetable soup, and sandwiches - either cheese or ham, with a choice of soft drinks were on the  menu for our lunch. I don't know about the cheese sandwiches and vegetable soup, but the tomato soup and ham sandwich I had were some of the best I've ever eaten. Conversation at the table ranged from shopping to concern over a motorcycle seatbelt law for children riding as passengers. It was interesting to hear some of the stories of how the other ladies came to be Harley owners.

One lady I chatted with at lunch has even had her license for more than thirty-five years. She told of the struggle she had just to get her license because she was a woman. She had to give justification that satisfied the one who governed the licensing. Another said she had wanted her own bike since she was thirteen years old and riding behind her father. I'm hoping over time to collect more stories of how these wonderful women came to ride motorcycles. I would also like to find the statistics of the number of women riding against the total number of riders in the BeNeLux countries.

While we were gearing up in the parking lot for the afternoon leg of our ride, we were surprised by an invitation to ride down to the lot next to the tour boat. The boat owner had arranged for us to be allowed in for a group photo - four across so we'd all fit into the picture! We had orange-vested guides who stopped traffic for us going into the lot and again coming back out. What fun!

The afternoon ride was a little different than the morning ride. We went alongside many small canals, wound through several small villages, and then finally ended our ride at the stork museum. A charming momma stork and her babies were in their nest atop the main building that housed  the restaurant, gift shop, and small museum. She's possibly the most photographed bird in all the Netherlands! At least she was this past Saturday!

My biggest, nicest surprise of the day was when I walked out of the parking lot and towards the museum Kevin was there to meet me!

Vise Water Locks with a Twist at Maasmechelen

Yesterday we just rode for the pure pleasure of riding. We tanked up and started off on the back roads to the water locks in Vise, Belgium. After crossing the Maas, we turned onto a side road that runs along the waterway and parked for a while. It was strange to see the barges just moored to the banks instead of moving. It appeared that the locks were closed for the day. A little while later when we had gone past the locks towards Liege, we saw a barge start in the direction of the locks, and then turn around mid-stream. There were many, many boats and barges "parked" on that side as well. I wonder what the deal was...

We went over the little bridge and onto the small route that goes around my favorite hair-pin curve and up to the village of Eben-Emael. We found a cafe on the corner of that little road and the main road through town - L' Aenchante. We were the only customers and enjoyed having the terrace all to ourselves! Occasionally the Yorkshire terrier who owned the place would come by and check on us while his "mom" cleaned and arranged the traditional Belgian centerpiece of willow branches with hollow, painted Easter eggs on them. The stems were bare except for leaf-buds that hadn't opened yet. The hope is that by Easter, the eggs will look like flowers on fully leafed-out branches. I know - I should have gotten a picture of that! Maybe I'll find another one today.

First Group Ride

As the days have become longer and warmer, we've been wondering when our Dutch friends would be ready to ride for the 2011 season. Kevin went on rides with several guys last year, usually after work in the long evenings or especially long rides on Sundays. Saturday, 9 April 2011, he got "the call."

So, on Sunday we went to our friends' house and met up with the group. Altogether, there were six of us on four motorcycles. We had hoped to be on the road to Cochem by 1:00, but when we stopped  in Kerkrade for fuel, one of the guys had trouble with his bike starting. The battery leads were a bit corroded and caused the problem. Not a huge issue, but we definitely lost some time there.  

From Kerkrade we went to the Eiffel park area again. This winter has been extremely hard on roads here in this part of Europe with more snow than usual and many, many very cold days. Some of the potholes left for courageous riders and drivers are big enough to hold our laundry baskets. The old patches from previous winters are almost as bad as the holes! 

When we stopped for drinks in Belgium, we decided that Cochem was a bit too far for the time we had left in the day. All were agreed that we'll do it some time soon, however! The cafe where we stopped was in the French-speaking part of Belgium. Most Belgians, I have found, know at least some Dutch (Flemish), but the waitress pretended to have difficulty taking our very simple order - nothing but coffee or diet cola, and that sounds pretty much the same no matter which language you're speaking around here. She also left the table filthy from the last customers. When I spoke with her in French and questioned that and asked her to clean the table for us, she said someone else does that! What cheek! I don't think we'll be stopping there again!

We rode around the area and went to a few favorite spots where Kevin has already taken me. It was nice for him to be able to show Marcel and the others some places they had not visited before! Way to go, Husband! When we couldn't find a restaurant in that area, the unanimous decision was to go to Eupen, Belgium, and eat dinner at the Mesopotamia Restaurant. I've been there before and had a schnitzel, and that was some good motivation to get back on the road. 

The schnitzel with mushroom in cream sauce was better than I had remembered. The other lady in the group had the Hawaiian schnitzel. I can't imagine a piece of pork in a sauce with pineapples. Just not my idea of what's yummy! Others at the table had pizza. The "pepperoni" pizza was actually a vegetarian pizza with sliced peppers - looked like cross-cut Greek peppers.

After about an hour at the table, we waddled out to the motorcycles and eased our way home. At our last rest stop, the Italian ice cream shop most of us had coffee or cappuccino while one brave lad had a "Blue Angel," a tall glass of vanilla ice cream with blue sauce poured over it. There were mounds of fresh sliced fruit stuck into the heaps of whipped cream. Oh, my! He made it through about two-thirds of the angel before leaning back with a silly grin on his face. The angel had won that contest!

We went our separate ways as we left the ice cream shop, so after another fifteen or twenty minutes Kevin and I pulled into our garage at around 9:30 p.m. 

Ride to Cochem, Germany

Oh, my goodness what a ride we had to Cochem, Germany! Kevin and I left home around 9:45 a.m. and headed out on back roads. The fields are all turning green, and the trees are budding out. I could do without the birch tree blooms and pollen, but they are beautiful.

I was familiar with the first few turns, but the new course we took wound through the Nationalpark Eiffel where we left the Belgian Ardennes and cruised into Germany. We bumped along some of the worst paved roads I've ever been on. I've got to say we had smoother dirt and gravel roads in Mississippi than some of the paved roads in Belgium. The German roads were much better, and that's a good thing because we went around a number of hairpin curves as we wound down the sides of mountains into valleys and then back up on the other sides. 

Although we were pretty much hovering around the posted speed limits, there were dozens of smaller sports bikes that passed us even in hard curves. Amazing! 

We were fortunate to have many small wayside parks where we could take a break. I'm always surprised at how mentally draining it is to focus on riding with attention to all the detail that surrounds us. Those stops, whether ten minutes or forty-five are refreshing. The best of the stops, though, was when we took a break on the bank of the Mosel River in Cochem. With the river on one side and a rich tourist area chock full of restaurants, wine cellars, ice cream shops, and flowers planted everywhere there was enough to occupy us for hours. We'll have to go back some day soon!

On the way home, we went on the highways. They were much straighter, much smoother, and provided a much faster way to get home. Home by 7:00, and we had time to wind down and have dinner at Chez Altizer.

Water Locks at Vise, Belgium

By the way, the end point of this map was also the point of origin for the trip. I don't know why Google maps overwrites the A and B points. You'd think they would be able to have different colored bubble letters that show side by side or something.

With such a beautiful sunny day, we decided to ride towards Klimmen and go to the water locks at Vise. I was off to a rough start - well, rough starts, rough stops, and I had an extremely difficult time cornering. The ninety-seven kajillion traffic circles were individual nightmares even with my eyes wide open. Traffic through Heerlen was bumper-to-bumper, but since it was all on two-way streets and metered with traffic lights we didn't have the right to go between the lanes legally. When my bike was serviced, something happened and the "easy clutch" that was installed was all of a sudden tightened to almost new specs again, and even though I took it back to have it loosened, all they did was make the clutch engage further out which is even more frustrating. So, my left hand was aching all the way to my elbow by the time we finally cleared Heerlen.

I have no idea what was going on with me, but I found it almost impossible to stay caught up with Kevin. We even had a couple of cars between us a few times and missed the exit for Klimmen. We went a bit further down and exited at Valkenburg. There was more traffic there, but after we waited "forever" for a train to pass at least it was flowing. Traffic we had been through at that point was nothing compared to Maastricht at 5:30 p.m. Kennedy bridge traffic was the worst I've ever seen, and there was still the tight curve in the exit to the street that runs alongside the river to face.

I guess this is turning into a venting, ranting post today, so go ahead and leave if you'd like. Wouldn't blame you a bit if you did.

The saving moment for me was when we stopped at a little cafe across from the church in Margraten, the "An der Put." By that time I was enraged at my own cowardice and frustrated with my skills. Having a quiet cup of cappuccino, not to mention the extreme caffeine fix, and a chat with Kevin did wonders for me. That wasn't to say that my skills became perfect with one cup, but at least I was more able to keep up and when we climbed the twisty road above the locks I did not drop the bike in the hairpin curve. The first time we took that particular curve I ended up on the far side almost against the embankment on the other side of the road, had to back up - back w-a-y up - and start up the hill again. The second time we took that road, I was so proud of making it without messing up. After such a horrible start to the ride, though, all the fears returned. It's amazing what happens to self-esteem when a few things go wrong and how all the old fears and self-disgust return.

Fortunately, this time I had no problem with the curve despite my anxiety, and when we pulled off the road at the overlook rest area I could have danced for joy. I had been living my own little personal drama, and the whole time everybody else in the world had just continued going about their business. Barges and other boats were moving cargo and people up and down the river, and everything was right with the world.

The best part of the ride through that area comes soon after the rest area. There's the wooded part with all the twisty curves, and then, all of a sudden, you break through at the top of the hill. It feels like the top of the world by the time you reach it, and the sky opens up in front of you. There are wide, open fields on a little plateau, and we caught the sun just above the edge of the field to our left. Every time we've gone through the field road it just takes my breath away.

A quick pass through Maastricht, and we headed home up A79 with a glorious sunset in our rear-view mirrors. I really felt like we were going in the wrong direction because the sunset was so inviting.

By the time we closed the garage door I was utterly exhausted. I think the things I could change before doing that same run again would be to plan where to eat dinner. I don't care where, but it's not sane to gorge on junk food, not drink water, and go on a trip hoping to stop for something real to eat. Coming home after 7:00 wired on coffee and thinking it's too late to cook is just not a way to end an evening. Leaving home and going through some medium sized cities during rush hour traffic (what a misnomer) wasn't such a good idea either.

The White Village of Thorn

The beautiful weather enticed us onto our motorcycles and north to the white village of Thorn, the Netherlands. It's a beautiful place with cobblestone streets and many, many "whitewashed" brick houses clustered around the village church. We must have come up on one of the many weddings this afternoon, because the area around the church was blocked off to vehicular traffic. Not at all put off by this, we went on a side street and went into the parking lot of the village administration offices where we had a lovely view of the back of the church.

The courtyard of the admin offices had an interesting statue of a short, stout crusader named Ansfried who had established the church and Benedectine abbey around 975 A.D. on land formed when the swamp running alongside the Roman road between Maastricht and Nijmegen  was drained. Ansfried later became Bishop of Utrecht, the Netherlands.

We passed through the village and almost visited our favorite lake in the area. A muddy parking lot was enough to send us on to our next stop, a pub near the Maas (also known as the Meuse) River where we were able to park our bikes and have a cup of coffee in the sunshine. Evidently there were quite a few people who had the same idea, because we grabbed the last available table on the open terrace.

From there, we moved on to Mariahoop where we took a short break in the church parking lot. That area is so incredibly peaceful, and we saw quite a parade of people on bicycles, walking dogs or each other, and a variety of scooters, quads, and motorcycles strolling or rolling quietly by. We finally fell in behind a small convoy of motorcycles and quads and headed towards Gangelt.

When Kevin made a turn to go into the town of Gangelt, I figured he had remembered a frites shop there that would be convenient for a bite of late lunch. I was pleasantly surprised when he turned in at El Greco, one of my favorite Greek restaurants in this area. Late lunch/early dinner was extravagant. 

After a salad of shredded lettuce, cabbage, tomato, olive, and Greek peppers, we enjoyed delicacies from the grill. Mine included squares of pork cutlet, chicken breast, and a gyros mix topped with a nice Greek yogurt and garlic sauce. Kevin had a chicken breast with white asparagus smothered in Hollandaise sauce. Both plates were served with spicy rice and fries.

All good things must come to an end, "they" say, so after the feeding frenzy was over we waddled out to the motorcycles and rolled home with about 80 more miles on our odometers.

What a beautiful day, and what a pleasure it is to spend that kind of time with my husband!