Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

 

Atlas Rider is Heading to South America

A fellow Blogger and Rider, Bill Dwyer from Atlas Rider, is preparing to head out on a trek by motorcycle through and around South America. Bill will be video-documenting his trip on YouTube. All the details can be found below in Bills official press release:


Contact: Bill Dwyer
Tel: 708-280-9115
Email: dwyer.bill@gmail.com
Website: http://www.atlasrider.com/


TRAVELING OFF THE GRID, ON YOUTUBE

A motorcycle journey through Latin America documented on YouTube

On August 15th Bill Dwyer sets off for an eight month trip that takes him from America to Argentina, spanning over 20 countries and 25,000 miles. Without a cellphone, and infrequent internet access he will no longer always be "connected" or "on the grid." He travels alone, but brings along a virtual audience for the ride through documenting his journey on YouTube.

As a software developer, Bill grew weary of his corporate job. He sold most of his belongings and traded his cubical for the open road. Food, gas and shelter will be his only concerns. No more timelines to follow or deadlines to meet, only serendipity creates the destiny of his road map.

Perceptions of Mexico and Latin American countries as a seething breeding ground of violence have been widespread. Bill believes that people and the world around us are not as dangerous as we sometimes are lead to believe. The success of his journey should prove to be a reminder that among a seemingly hostile world there is still some good out there.

Bill is an avid adventure motorcyclist and blogger for 3 years. He has built up an audience from all walks of life and continues to entertain, educate and inspire them to take the plunge and seek out adventures of their own.


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Here is the link where Bill made his blog announcement: http://www.atlasrider.com/?p=1234

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If you would like more information about Bill Dwyer's journey you can visit http://www.atlasrider.com/, or to schedule an interview with him, he can be contacted at 708-280-9115 or by email at dwyer.bill@gmail.com.

So, go visit Atlas Rider and get signed up to follow along on his journey. Bill is on all the social medias so hook up with him and tell him Torch sent ya!

Ride on,
Torch

Lost the Old Bag at Highway Speed!

No, not the wife, but I got your attention didn’t I?

This embarrassing story actually started about five months ago. I had stopped for breakfast with a coworker on my commute to work one Saturday morning at the local Waffle House. I had just backed the bike into a parking space, removed my helmet, and started walking towards the Waffle House entrance when I glanced back at my Mistress, that’s what I call my bike, and saw the left Custom Classic Hard Leather Saddle Bag was off its rear bracket stud and was leaning down.

I had removed the bags only one time before to give the bike a good cleaning and commuted without them just that once. I rode it only partly “topless” because I had left the Memphis Shades windshield on. I have as yet never removed both bags and shield to ride her convertible style, top down.

I put it back on after eating breakfast and then rode to work and home afterwards. I looked at it again at home and the locking cam did feel like it was binding or just not closing all the way. So I emptied the bag and removed it and lubricated the mechanism with some WD40 and reinstalled the bag. I thought is felt secure, but was too lazy to take the locking bracket off the bag itself to get a better view.

Now, fast forward to a week ago, commuting back and forth to work every day as usual. I was on my homeward bound commute on a Friday in the usual D/FW rush hour traffic, wearing full leathers, impatiently weaving in and out of bog downs but mostly staying in the “fast lane”. I exited 183 Airport Freeway onto 121 north picking up velocity to normal highway cruising speed. I took my normal exit, Cheek-Sparger Rd. as usual and down shifted one time to start engine braking.

That’s when it happened. I rode over a small seam crack in the road and I heard a clunk from the left rear of my bike. I glanced back just in time to catch out of the corner of my eye the saddlebag hitting the ground and take off tumbling down the side of the road. Checking my mirror I see it go cart wheeling off the left shoulder of the exit lane and into the median grass on the side of the freeway. I merged with the access road and exited in the first parking lot.

As I park the bike I see a white pickup pulling over onto the shoulder with its hazard flashers turned on. I get off the bike and remove my helmet and start walking back up the access road. I see the driver get out of the truck and go get the saddlebag. He put it in his truck and started back down the access road in my direction. He sees me walking back up the access road and signals me he will pull into the parking lot where my bike is parked.

The Good Samaritan pulled in behind my bike and gave me back the prodigal saddlebag. I thanked him and asked if I could pay him for his extra effort. He declined and offered some bungee chords but I had a bungee net in the saddlebag. I strapped the bag to my pillion seat and thanked him again as he left.

That Saturday I took it completely apart removing the bracket from the bag. The bag itself was not damaged too badly. The hard plastic backing plate was cracked on one corner, it was scrapped and scuffed up and some of the stitching had come loose on the lid. Considering what it had been through it came out well. I managed to get the bracket lock to unbind so that it would fully lock the bracket in place. I remounted the bag on the bike and made sure it was secured properly. Then I reinstalled the contents I usually carry back inside.

This was a good luck bad luck story. It was bad luck that the Saddlebag came completely off the bike while riding, and it is not easy to get off the bike when you are purposely trying to remove it. Good luck that it did not happen while I was in the middle of traffic or the fast lane of the freeway. I believe my Guardian Angel was looking out for me again and I shudder to think of what could have happened…..

Ride on,
Torch

Song of the Rolling Sirens

Song of the Rolling Sirens

It was a dark spring morning and a blanket of ominous clouds hovered low in the sky making the air thick with humidity. I started the V-Star and her 1063 cc’s of v-twin power roared to life as I hit the garage door opener button to close the garage. It was 6:00 am and I was hoping my neighbors did not hate me and my Cobra exhaust as I turned out of the driveway and started on my commute to work.

Passing the local Waffle house on my way to the freeway the odors of waffles, eggs, sausage, and bacon, beckoned me to stop and eat. I sighed at what was not to be as I approached the light downshifting twice to turn onto the access road to get on the on-ramp to the two lane freeway. Three quarters of the way up the on-ramp my left turn signal was on as I shifted into third. I have decided that this was the most fun part of any ride, the acceleration to get up to speed, after all, there are no laws that limit how fast you can get up to the speed limit.

In no time I’m at the end of this stretch of highway as it makes a graceful right hand turn and merges with another section this time three lanes wide. Tending to run faster than the other traffic I again apply my left turn signal and change lanes twice double checking the lane next to me each time before changing lanes. In the fast lane I pulled in right behind another motorcyclist traveling slightly faster than me possibly on a Harley-Davidson by the sound of the engine.

I sped up a little to keep up with the other motorcyclist. Traffic is usually not too bad this time of the morning as long as you do not get stuck behind a row of vehicles all traveling the same speed so that you cannot get by in the fast lane. Some people will just not change lanes even though slower traffic is supposed keep right. Just about then is when I started to hear the Song.

An eighteen wheeler was in the middle lane and I was passing on the left tracking in the left hand side of my lane. As I drew closer the sound of their Song got louder. I glanced at all those wheels, each one almost half as tall as me. These Sirens are calling to me, luring me to look at them. I try to look away. Mistress, my bike, says, “Watch where we are going.” We were approaching a left hand curve on the highway.

I move lane position to the right side of my lane in preparation of the curve doing the outside, inside, outside track thing like I don’t really know how tight the curve is. This places me right next to the leviathans’ rear trailer wheels. I glance over and the Sirens Song is sweeter, louder, calling me closer as I strain to look away. “Look away, don’t stare at the beast,” I say to myself, probably out loud.

I’m slightly behind the rigs two sets of double tires now and nearing the apex of the curve. The muscles in my legs and arms tighten up and get stiff as the sirens voices start screaming louder at me as I fight to avert my eyes and turn my bike away from our deadly track. All I need to do is pull back slightly on the right handlebar and Mistress will respond leaning left and turning left out of that outer track but I find myself fighting the Sirens hypnotic Song. The Sirens Song is a screaming crescendo now pulling at Mistress and trying to make us crash against the mighty Leviathan.

My pulse has quickened and my breathing has almost stopped as I try to force her to turn left fighting against the handle bars that feel like hard taffy. She does not respond to manhandling and awaits the gentle counter steer command. The bike is at the apex of the curve now and we are sliding slowly closer into the mouth of the deadly Leviathan.

We are being drawn in, pulled by the voices of the alluring Sirens. Then, Mistress’s soothingly soft sultry voice cut through the panic brought about by the Song of the Sirens telling me, “Look away from the beast and look to where you want to go.” This was said not as an order, but in a matter of fact, common sense kind of way.

Nodding in agreement I hear her and obeyed, ignoring the Sirens command I forced my eyes to look away and into the far left track of the lane I’m traveling in. I relax my arms and gently push the left handle bar forward while pulling slightly back on the right. Mistress responds with a purr and immediately leaned left and headed into the left track out of the deadly path of the stampeding Leviathan. I blocked out the compelling Song of the Sirens and speed by the eighteen wheeled monster right as the corner ends.

Breathing once again my pulse starts to slow as I take the exit to get to work. Once at work and calmed down, I had time to reflect on what had just transpired on my normal boring commute. Call it what you want, Target Fixation or the Song of the Siren, your bike will go, maybe subconsciously, where you look. Is Target Fixation just an excuse, a Myth, or an Urban Legend? Having first hand battled it and won, I think not. So, glance at obstacles just long enough to recognize them for what they are and then look back where you want to go. If you don’t, you may succumb to the call of the Sirens, and smash into the very obstacle you are staring at, and trying desperately to avoid.

Ride on,
Torch