Couchrocket Posted June 23, 2008 Share Posted June 23, 2008 Reading Jamie's thread title put an unexpected lump in my throat. While I didn't know our brother Gleno... I know what it feels like to lose a brother. This is my brother Chuck: This image is from our last real "tour" together. The bikes on the ferry boat from Seattle to Bremerton, WA. We had left CA and headed north, ridden the Colombia River then eastern WA and across the pass to Seattle and then up and around the Olympic Peninsula and down the WA and OR coasts... Chuck and I were 3 years apart, and he "taught" me to ride. Which consisted of putting me on his Honda 305 Super Hawk w/ it in first gear, and aiming me down the street... when I was 14. He had caught the MC bug 18 months earlier, when he was just 16 and a friend loaned him a new Honda Supercub for "the day." No gloves, no jacket, no helmet... he was gone until after sundown and came home with the worst sun burn I'd ever seen. Yet there was this glow in his eyes. If you've ever seen the Disney version of "Wind in the Willows" you'd have recognized my big brother as "Mr. Toad," completely mesmerized and mumbling something about "motorycles... motorcycles." I don't think he was ever without some kind of bike from that time on until his death three years ago. I can't believe it has been three years. He owned Hondas, and BSA's, and Triumphs, and Harleys, and more Hondas... one of every Goldwing model they made. He taught me everything I know about touring on a motorcycle. When I retired 10 years ago and started riding more again, I eventually moved up near to where Chuck lived. We started touring. He started teaching: What stuff you really need, and what stuff you don't. Ride your own ride. Always gas up at the end of the day. If you're not peeing, you're not drinking enough water. Got to get 100 miles under our belts before breakfast each morning. Get off the darn bike every couple of hours, even if you just walk around it once and get back on. You can ride longer that way. Get out early -- enjoy the day -- snag the good motels before they fill up. NEVER use the motel's towels to clean your bike! Always carry your own stuff in a color they'll know isn't theirs. NEVER eat lunch at noon in a restaurant. "The working stiffs only have lunch hour off and they don't need us worthless retired tramps clogging up the place on their lunch hour!" We never used radios. We didn't need to. We began to read each other's minds. We weren't fast, we were fun. I learned: Not to ever get too excited about anything. That a "sip" (and only a sip) of blackberry brandy on a really cold morning is darn near as good as Gerbings. Especially if your standing next to your bike early in the morning, in the fog, watching a herd of Roosevelt Elk at Prairie Creek State park and freezing to death. That "cheese in a can" can be one of life's delicacies if eaten with crackers, some red wine, and smoked salmon -- in a stunningly beautiful place. That being able to see his face in his rear view mirror up ahead of me put me at just the right stagger interval. That Tom Bodette doesn't really leave the light on for you. That you can be operating on 30% cardiac output and still have a good time. I sometimes am still surprised when I check my mirror and he's not back there. Link to comment
stubble! Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 A wonderful, moving post. How blessed you are to have had that sort of connection with each other. Link to comment
hANNAbONE Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 tHANK yOU, sCOTT...wow / what a read.... Link to comment
Matts_12GS Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 Thank you Scott, you may have just saved me from killing my brother the next time we argue about something trivial and stupid the next time we ride. I envy you what you had with him and I hope that those memories will carry you to further miles with him in the mirror of your mind. Link to comment
KMG_365 Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 Wow. Great post, Scott. You were so very lucky to have been able to share that with your brother. Perhaps it is why I latched on to Gleno so hard as he was very much like my own birth brother, but much more "highly functioning". I am almost three years older than my brother Aaron . . . but he never had his life together well enough to ever hear the siren song of the open road on two wheels, but I would have loved to have shared it with him as well. He is not gone, but he's not going to be riding a bike any time soon. When I was riding with Gleno or just hanging out (LMAO), I felt like Gleno was how Aaron would have turned out if only a few other synapses had connected or if things had been a bit different in his life. I'm so happy for you for your wonderful memories of Chuck and I mourn with you the loss of his companionship. I really like his "riding lessons", too! Link to comment
ian408 Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 What a great memory of your brother. Thanks for sharing that. Link to comment
Smoky Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 Thanks Scott, he must have been a wonderful friend. Link to comment
ESokoloff Posted June 24, 2008 Share Posted June 24, 2008 Scott, What a wonderful yet sucky post. I'm sorry for your continual loss. Link to comment
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