Used Gas Pocket Bikes. Moutain Bike Lights.
Used Gas Pocket Bikes
- A minibike, sometimes called a mini moto or pocketbike, is a miniature motorcycle. Most traditional minibikes use a two stroke engine to turn the rear wheel via a chain.
- attack with gas; subject to gas fumes; "The despot gassed the rebellious tribes"
- a fluid in the gaseous state having neither independent shape nor volume and being able to expand indefinitely
- Attack with or expose to poisonous gas
- Kill by exposure to poisonous gas
- (of a storage battery or dry cell) Give off gas
- the state of matter distinguished from the solid and liquid states by: relatively low density and viscosity; relatively great expansion and contraction with changes in pressure and temperature; the ability to diffuse readily; and the spontaneous tendency to become distributed uniformly
Dreams, Sturgis and Stuff
I am in the midst of a dream where a typically nightmarish biker is snarling at me. I am thinking of werewolves in the novel I’ve just written. He’s scary in the way most nightmare creatures are scary: not quite human, but all teeth and red eyes. He’s seriously pissed at me. I am not sure why.
I tell him to wait a minute. He does. I pull a balloon from my pocket, blow it up and make it into a sword. I put on a goofy face and tell him to “bring it.” I am posturing like the Karate Kid, standing on one leg, making kung-fu sounds like a constipated goose. The biker looks hard at me for a moment and then starts to laugh. As he laughs, he transforms back into a human. He walks away, shaking his head, still laughing…
…someone touches my cheek. I open my eyes. Sheree. She’s smiling at me and **poof** the nightmare feeling ends.
“Time to go,” she says. Since we plan to have me drive through the night, I’ve taken a nap. (I always get strange dreams when I nap.)
I tell her about my dream and she nods. “You should write that down,” she says.
I shrug. Who would be interested in dream dross?
We get in the car and go. We’re on our way to Sturgis, Sheree and Brian and me. (Brian’s with us in spirit…but he’s totally here. Trust me.) Google says there are over 1,600 kilometers between Edmonton and Sturgis South Dakota – where the biggest biker convention in the world is starting in two days. I love road trips. I love traveling. I love new stuff.
Sheree and I aren’t bikers. The last bike I rode had training wheels. But Brian's a biker – and we’re trusting in him to talk the talk where necessary. (If he ever gets his lazy cyber ass out of bed, that is...)
We drive from midnight through 4:00 in the afternoon. Sixteen hours – with some stops to take pictures along the way. Our last stop is in Lavina happens late in the day, as black storm clouds gather in the east.
In Lavina, some of the buildings have been preserved in their natural 1900's state. One of them is the Lavina bank…where I took this image. It’s pretty much a perfect snapshot of how Sheree and I travel. (I will leave the “figuring out” part to you.)
There are a couple of German tourists out front of the bank. The man notices my camera and smiles ruefully, brandishing a point and shoot jobbie.
“Mir......my...camera…is not so…gut,” he says to me. I start to reply but he holds up his hand. He has used our cameras to initiate conversation. But he doesn't want camera talk. There's something else. A look of intense concentration flickers across his face then: “We are look for…for…a…fill-up…house.”
He pauses. His face twists in frustration and he flaps his hands in the air. I know how he feels. I have a flashback to being on a train in Italy trying to ask a patient, immaculately dressed Italian woman where we could find our hotel.
I use my pigeon German to ask if he is talking about a filling station for his car. He gets excited and nods. I point up the street to a red and white awning far off in the distance. He gets more excited and calls his wife over. They confer and I don’t need my broken German to know that she’s calling him an idiot and telling him she freaking just TOLD him there was one near-by and she double freaking told him to fill up hours ago...but he was too freaking cheap. She turns and stomps away. The earth shakes a little.
We chat politely for a while about living in Munich. He tells me that my German is better than his english and that I look Bavarian to him. (Not sure how to take that, so I smile and nod, although "Bavarian" to me means fat little men bounding onto stages with accordions, funny hats and leiderhosen.)
Having observed the social niceties, he nods at me once and then wanders back to his florid wife, seated impatiently in the car. She's sweating and glaring at him. It’s 33 degrees…that’s “pretty dad burned hot” for those of you on the American system.
The morning passed pleasantly. We stopped several times for pictures and were immediately swarmed by mosquitos. I mean SWARMS of them…clouds of them. But Montana is a beautiful place.
But by 4:00, we are in Lavina. I’d been driving for 16 hours and the world was getting just a little foggy. We hit Billings half an hour later and checked into the Boot Hill Hotel, a splendid little place with free everything…(breakfast, wi-fi, shuttle, pool, workout room (like I care about THAT), and cookies at night)…where we ate dinner and fell into bed. It's named for the cemetery that is only a little ways away. (I'm going for a look after I post this.)
I like Montana and have learned several things about how they live here:
1) People don’t sell cars here. Ever. They just park them out front of the trailer until they rot.
2) Casinos are tiny. But there are a LOT of them. And they don’t seem to play slots. Keno and video poker (twin mysteries to me) are the favs.
3) They serve “fried gizzards” in the convenience stores at gas stations. (Pretty much everything
TO THE RESCUE
Photo and story by Bill Hughes
Whenever there is a ton of rain up north, there's only one place it is going to go and that's downhill. Last Thursday and Friday's relentless rain came up the east coast and saturated the area so much that once again overflowing caused extensive flooding in our county.
One of the busiest roads is Bridge Street in Elkton. Howard Street by the Eder Park little league fields was under several feet of water, as was Delaware Avenue which is never a surprise to locals in the Elkton area when more than half a foot of rain comes this way. Many Elkton residents were wondering about the newly heightened road construction that was designed to help alleviate the problem. According to Elkton Mayor Joseph Fisona, the construction was designed for 3-4 inches of rain and not the 7 that we had.
"It was coming down in buckets," he said about Thursday night's downpours.
Rescue boats from Singerly, Water Witch in Port Deposit and North East were busy as they went out and checked to make sure no one was stranded.
"We just helped two people get off the gazebo," said Ethan Dooling of Water Witch Fire Company about the Eder Park structure. Ethan rode along with his dad Allen Dooling and Singerly's Cathy Farrell patroling the flooded area before going over to Marina Park.
Not only did the flood affect drivers and businesses, but also the homeless who find any place they can to get rest.
"That's usually my sleeping spot," said Geanie Anton about the Schagrin Gas location on Bridge Street. "Thank goodness there's no fatalities and everyone's okay."
Geanie was on her way to the grocery store in Big Elk Mall, but was reluctant to walk through the waist high deep water for her size.
"I have a bad leg, I was going to the ACME," she said while contemplating walking out to Landing Lane and down Route 40 to get there.
Then concerned citizen, Lee Yonce of Elkton came over to check on Geanie and get updates on others.
"How's the homeless," he asked.
"I'm one of them," Geanie said. "They've lost tents. Everyone's lost everything. I wonder if there's anyplace to place tents."
Some had no choice, but to wade through the flooded Bridge Street between Jo Jo's Hot Dogs and Jake's Burgers.
"Horrible," said Eric Scott (in photo) of Chef On The Run Catering who had to gather fresh bread delivered on the other side by Jo Jo's and carry it over. "Probably the hardest work my legs have ever had."
Another person who had no choice but to walk through the water was Terry Taylor (in photo with bike) of Elkton who is homeless and was trying to get to his morning shower before 11am. He had let a buddy use his Moped, so he was glad he had a Raleigh 10 speed bike as a backup to cross.
"I knew as soon I hit it, I wasn't going to make it," Terry said about pedaling across. "I'm glad it didn't go over my waist because I had my phone in my pocket. I wish I had a towel on me. I'm homeless. I'm originally from Quakertown, Pennsylvania."
Business on Howard Street was at a stand still except for the District Court parking lot. One local business owner took advantage of the high water for a little sightseeing adventure.
"I went out there and ran the bases," said Tidewater Tattoo Studio owner Rob Massimiano (in photo on kayak checking out a submerged Dodge Neon) about the Elkton Little League field. "I've had my business on Main Street for 24 years and I've always wanted to go out there."
Although the parking lots with three flooded vehicles were unavailable, Rob was still able to make it to the back of Brothers Pizza where owner Mario Testa (in photo) came out to present a slice of his White Broccoli Special for an unusual paddle up service.
"It was the best," said Rob who then traveled over to the Elkton Farmers Market and finished his meal.
The local thrift store in downtown found a way to open their shop in the morning since the front entrance was available. The business still had shoppers finding their way in. One volunteer said they had a costumer making donations all the way from York, Pennsylvania.
"I had to park over at the hospital," said Good As New chairman Frenchy Lightcap. "We (volunteers) all had to park in the parking garage. It rained so much last night that I knew we'd have some flooding. I called Jean Moran at Union Hospital and told her that we have a new service at Good As New, SWIMMING LESSONS."
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