Merry Christmas

And a Happy New Year to all of you

Playing Through

SO the police asked Tiger's wife how many times she'd hit him with the golf club and she replied "I don't know for sure, but put me down for a Five"

Thanksgiving

We’re closing in on the end of another year and I’m taking a few minutes to itemize all that I have to be grateful for. The list is too long to document, but I’ll cover a few highlights here.

To begin with, I’m healthier than I was at the beginning of the year and I’m getting better every day. The down time I had was barely a bump in the road.

I went on a couple of big adventures with my buddy Mennonite Mike this year. The first was back in February when we participated in one of Danny Walker’s flat-track supercamps. It was one of those things that you talk about doing, but is out there just far enough to be sort of an abstract. Old Malcolm brought that trip to life for us and I don’t think I could have had more fun being thrown from a short motorcycle to a hard track. The other trip was a four day, thousand mile road bike tour of east Tennessee and northern Georgia. There are some great roads in that part of the world and the weather was near perfect. We made just enough progress everyday to stay ahead of the rain.



I had a fine time with all my trials buddies this year and I’m thankful to all of them for the relentless joy they brought to those occasions when we got together. We were like school kids playing out in the woods. Thanks too, to the promoters of the events that gave us the opportunity to get together like we did.



I had some really great dual sport/sport bike rides this year. The best were with my pals Peewee and Sam. They team up for these mini-adventures on a very regular basis and I feel very fortunate to have been included in a few of them. It’s a shame it has to get cold around here.



Back in April, Tammy and I made a trip out to Arizona for a company thing. They always try to offer some kind of outing to go with all the meetings and one of the choices this year was a one-day Bondurant racing school. Now that was a trip. After some class room stuff, they put us in our own Pontiac Solstice and turned us loose on this little TT track for an hour of timed runs through a series of hairpins. Next they lined us up on a full blown road course and turned us loose to bang on those things as hard as we could go at ‘em for a couple hours. Now that was fun. I also had a chance to ride a helicopter over the Grand Canyon on this trip; not so much fun as the driving course.



There’s other stuff to give thanks for, like a good job in hard times and a home that I’m glad to get back to everyday. But most of all I’m thankful for my family. I’m lucky enough to still have my mom and dad, plus the three brothers that I grew up with. I’ve got my daughter Leslie living a happy life in the warm Florida sunshine with my future son-in-law Scott. I have my son Clay here at home where I get to see him for at least a few minutes everyday. Then there’s the one thing I’m most thankful for in this whole world. That is my little mini-fridge in the laundry room, which is full of nothing but cold beer. How great is that thing? Just joking of course; I am most thankful for my Tammy and the fact that she’s put up with me for another year. That alone puts me in the upper percentile of the luckiest guys anywhere.

Harris C Wallace and Harris E Wallace



Here’s hoping that everyone reading this has as much to be thankful for and that next year brings more of the same. Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

SUPERHERO REVEALED!

The prospects looked dim as the group gathered to discuss the obstacles lying before them. There were hills to climb and ditches to cross, logs to jump and ribbons strung up everywhere. It was one huge wooded maze that they must find their way through. But how? Sure there were arrows pointing into the dark nether-regions beyond the clearing where they camped, but were they to just trust this meager guidance? Everything was so chaotic and frightening, the mystery too deep for the mere mortals they were. What they need is someone to lead them. Someone who is brave and wise and skilled enough to clear a path and show the way, but where would they find such a person? Just when they thought all was lost, they looked up to see a Superhero emerging from gloom astride a roaring green machine that was terrible to behold. He was dressed from head to foot in a form-fitting blue suit, with strange markings on front and back. The crowd was struck dumb as the stranger bellowed, “Fear not for I am the Captain and I’m here to save you”. And save them he did, weaving back and forth between the red and blue ribbons with the others trailing in his wake. Once, twice, three times he lead them in and out of the darkness before disappearing into the distance as the people shouted,

“THANK YOU CAPTAIN SAUSAGE!

I Said DON"T BLINK!!!!

This past weekend, we all made the trip to Marion IL to help our good buddy Fearless Charlie Nash celebrate his birthday. We rode motorbikes during the day and paid homage to the hour's hero in the evening. It was Speck-tacular from beginning to end. Even the good folks from the Mid-West Trials scene pitched in by throwing a big BBQ dinner in Chuck's honor Saturday night. Later we gathered around the camp-inferno to tell him jokes and sing him songs, all of which he seemed to enjoy a great deal. I know I did.

One more time HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHARLIE

Won't Be Long Now

I spent a long day first driving to the bone doc's office, then waiting for him to make the same trip. Two hours sitting in the little exam room, in a chair that would have killed me before the back surgery.

It was worth the wait as the word was all good. He turned me loose to work, run, lift weights.....in short, all the things I've spent a lifetime avoiding. HAH! No really, that's pretty good news to me because it means I'm ready to start getting back to near normal.

As we were talking, I purposely avoided asking him about riding my trials bike. This was because I was afraid he'd tell me that it was off limits forever. I figured if I didn't ask, I could decide that for myself. I know some doctors are anti-motorcycle to begin with and I just didn't want to give him a chance to tell me that I should no longer do something that I dearly love.

Ah, but all wondering (combined with the memory of my whining about it) proved to be just too much for Tammy as she piped in with the question before I knew it was coming, "When can he ride his dirt bike?". Well, I gulped real hard just before I heard him say "he can ride now if he can avoid wrecking the thing". He went on to say that if I did plan to crash (which let's face it, is more than likely), I should probably wait for a month before I do it.

Whew, how 'bout that? I mean it's not like I would have given it up if he'd replied as I had anticapated he would. Still, it's good to know that the next time I pile up with the old Yamaha landing on top of me, I'm only following doctor's orders.

Dr David McCord - Nashville TN is my hero

Salvation

I went to Dickson last weekend to experience a little of the final rounds of the ITSA North American Championship. Nothing like a little time spent out of doors to lift you after you’ve been cooped up for a month or so. The good times began with a trip Friday night to the ranch for a much needed influx of the kind of camaraderie that I can only get from my campfire buddies. The music and the jokes, the teasing back and forth, the old stories, the fire, the smoke and the welcome I got, all worked wonders at improving my deposition. I felt better there than I’d felt in a while.

The next day was a mess for everybody and it took its toll on me. Something about slipping and sliding around in the muck ran me out of gas pretty early. I loaded up and went home shortly after the trials started and didn’t do anything else the entire day. I hate I missed the Saturday night campfire, but I knew the sun was going to shine on us Sunday morning and I wanted to be up for it.

Sunday delivered as promised and the riders had blasted off by the time I got to the site. It had dried considerably so I decided I’d try to make my way backwards on the loop to a point where I could see a little riding. I found the hiking a little easier than I thought it would be, to the point that I found myself a good ways back in the woods by the time I heard the first motorcycles coming my way. I actually had time to walk a couple of sections before none other than Captain Dick came over the hill, leading a group of riders who were obviously enjoying the better conditions of the day. It was a good spot to watch the action and before I moved on I’d seen every contestant in action. I walked and walked during the remainder of the day, finding several good spots to watch competition. It was well worth the effort, although it pained me a little not to be among those riding. At least I was out in the woods, rather than staring at the world out the window.

The weekend ended on a high note too, as the guys all made their way back into the pits and began relaxing from all the activity. This continued until the Guru called everyone together to hand out awards for the day and the series. A final gathering around the campfire followed the awards and (as always) no one seemed to want the day to end. This included me and even though I was really beat, I was still one of the last ones to make their way to the truck.

I figured I would pay dearly for the day’s activity when I got up the next day, but this proved not to be the case. I reckon all the climbing and bending as I’d made way around the uneven terrain, was just what I needed to loosen up what ailed me. I awoke with a lot less pain and was not nearly as stiff as I had been just a couple of days before. The physical activity combined with the mental therapy to….....well, to save me. Thanks to all of you who contributed so much to my salvation. I owe you a lot. Can’t wait till the next one.

Not the Only One Who's Dealing With A Pain

“Honey, my back hurts, I wish I had a nice steak cooked out on the grill, but I know it’s raining and dark out…..OHHHHHHHH, but it hurts”

What a gal, huh?

Morning Walk

I got up this morning at 6:30 and dressed in a hurry. By that I mean I was ready to go outside for my morning walk by 7. I find I do everything SLOW these days, which is counter-intuitive for me, but I’m making progress and at least dressing myself now. I took off down the road for a half mile before I felt myself run out of gas. Whew, time to stop this marathon and set down for breakfast and maybe a little nap. Of course I had a little problem, in that I didn’t anticipate my commitment level when I needed to. What I should have done would be to walk OUT a quarter mile, then back IN another quarter. Now, I find myself down the road and up the creek, with no legs, paddle, or ambulance service to fall into. Just when I thought I was destined to my own version of Man Vs Wild (with me curled up under a tree for shelter), up pulls Tammy in the truck. “Hey” she says, “You want a ride or something?” Man, was that a good nap I had a few minutes later.

Recovery

Most all of you know I underwent back surgery on August 24th and again on the 26th, to correct some disc problems, which have been causing quite a bit of pain and numbness for me, as well as a quickly increasing loss of leg strength over the course of the last couple years.

I went to several doctors and got a bunch of different diagnosis and as many prognosis, before deciding to let this surgeon have a go at me. He talked a good talk and if he's straight up and I work hard enough, I should emerge in a few months like a kid again (as far as my back goes, anyway).

I've had some rough road since the knife, like a really bad reaction to the first post-surgery pain medication. I threw up for about 12 hours that first night and let me tell you, that ain’t no fun with three brand new incisions in my gut and over my hips. Then, I have this cut down my back, which leaves me cut on all four corners. This makes it pretty tough to lay down with any level of comfort. That part is getting better everyday.

I’m working through this to get back on my feet and fully reap the benefits of the work done on me. It’s been a week and a half and I’m already up to walking a (total) of a half mile a day on the treadmill. I think soon I can abandon the walker I use any other time I’m up and move the work outside. Doc says if I can get to 1.5 miles a day unassisted by the end of 6 weeks, in another 6 I can bust loose to do anything I want to.

I’ll keep posting some updates here in case anyone is interested. I’ve received a lot of inquiries from a number of you. My very good buddies Mennonite Mike and Fearless Charlie Nash have been especially persistent with their displays of concern, as well as Peewee and the Captain who have called to wish me the best. I can feel a lot of you out there who care and who are concerned and I tell you, it means a lot to me. I’ll add a word of thanks here to my friends David T and Jon, who have stepped up to help in a big way, but who I doubt would ever have occasion to read this blog.

My final word here today is about my family. Leslie who is 800 miles away, but lifts me up everyday because I know she cares so very much. Only by threats have we been able to keep her where she is and needs to be. And also Clay, who has stood by like a guard at the gate (complete with walky-talky), ready to do anything I ask him at anytime he’s not been in school or in the sickbed himself (bad sick). And mostly my Tammy, who has barely left my side since the first doctor’s visit. Nursing me, bathing me, feeding me and jumping at my every need, all the while sleeping in chairs just to stay in the same room with me while I moan and groan. Words fail me here…..

Anyway, don’t count me out and I’ll be seeing you all down the road a piece.

Thanks,
Jesco

Looking Good

On a recent ride, my partner Fearless Charlie Nash took a turn on my old Sherco. Looks good, huh?

Fish Story

Fishing has been pretty good around here, at least for those that have time to go. I find I'm wasting way too much time at work. On the other hand, the boy is not as encumbered. He's spending a lot of time on the river and has reported some impressive catches. The photo above is from a couple of weeks ago and I asked him why he didn't bring it home for the old man to eat. He looked at me kind of funny and said it’d be like eating your Labrador Retriever. Hell, I was just kidding anyway and I'm not that hungry. Reminds me of the story of the guy up in Alaska who got caught by the game warden, hunting loons. The rabbit sheriff asks him why he was shooting birds that had endangered status and were supposed to be protected. The guy explained that he and his family were just plain hungry and the loons were the only game he could find at this time in his part of the frozen north. The warden thought about it for a minute or two, and then decided that he couldn't bring himself to prosecute the guy. He told him this, but said he should refrain from any further loon extermination. The guy was happy to be out of trouble and not looking at jail time or a fine and thanked the lawman. As he was about to return to his warm truck and drive away, the game warden turned to the guy and said he was curious, just what does loon taste like, anyway? The guy thought about it and finally replied, "Ah,'bout like Bald Eagle"

Hungry is hungry, I guess. It was a nice fish at 7.2lbs, but would probally taste like Catfish.

National Pride

Dustin up amoung the big rocks



The Guru taking a tight turn over some slick roots


I made a quick run down to the Trials Training Center for the second round of the NATC at the site this weekend. My camera is a piece of crap, but I managed to get a couple of shots of the Guru and Hockey Boy representing ITSA as they battled the really tough terrain and the other riders. They did us proud.

PWA Unplugged

Caught my good buddy Peewee picking on the back porch on a recent visit to the post office. It was a nice way to start the day, for both of us.

Sea Legs

Me and Mennonite Mike just returned from a 3-day tour of the most twisted pieces of the asphalt jungle we could find in a 3-state radius of home. Here’s a shot that was taken on the Dragons Tail of the two of us (just before Malcolm dipped a knee to the pavement). We had a great time (of course) and saw some fine roads along the way. As I sit here in my recliner writing this, I feel the chair leaning left and then right under me.

"Buy Me Some Peanuts and Cracker Jack......"

On June 12, 1976, my brother Joe stood beside me as I took the hand of the love of my life. The ceremony was over at around 2:00 and that was good, because I was coaching a little league team (of kids not that much younger than my new wife) that had a game beginning at 4. Well, we had that game and many more over the course of the next 33 years. Some of them were close and some were near misses, but overall I’ve managed to stay on top of the most important of them. Not surprising when you consider that I led off with the biggest homerun of my life. I love you Tammy

The Fresh Mennonite of No Hair

Big weekend, this past. Great time was had by all at LEOR and the first two rounds of the ITSA North American championship series. Here you see Mennonite Mike warming up before the rider’s meeting for the Sunday round. Looks like the practice was doing some good, huh?

More Than Just A Trace of Fun

Here’s my hero Sam, giving life lessons to Peewee and Mennonite Mike in front of Malcolm’s beautiful blue SV.

This past Saturday I made my way to the Loveless Café, for breakfast and a motorbike ride with three of my favorite folks. There’s access to the Natchez Trace Parkway right outside the front door of that place, so we hit that thing like there was free watermelon waiting at the end. It was an interesting day and at one point even stumbled upon a small community car/tractor show. The folks there were apparently only expecting local patronage, because they literally ran down to meet us as we were climbing off our scooters. What a friendly place that was. There were some pretty good looking cars there, along with some pretty strange little tractors. Good food too, and at least one pissing frog that Mennonite Mike irritated into reacting with poor social behavior. I think it was something of a Hate Crime, but I can’t be sure because the frog croaked soon after. Maybe more later, but suffice it to say that it was a pretty good adventure. We had a good time.

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Believe it or not, the current drought has not had a negative effect on my little garden. It’s amazing, but dust hasn’t been a big problem either. HA

Actually (as anyone living in this part of the world knows) there’s hardly been a day in the last six weeks that it hasn’t rained. I guess I was lucky to get the garden planted at all and in fact, did so after dark in one long marathon session, wearing a head lamp. Until Saturday evening, I haven’t been able to get back into it because my hip waders have a hole in them just above the knee. I did manage to get the tomatoes staked and the ground dressed a little between the squash and peppers before it rained for another 12 hours. I guess I’ll be wishing for return of the rain before long, but right now? I’m sick of it.

It's In His Blood

Last weekend, after the trials event at Trent Parks place, my good buddy Mennonite Mike hosted a little hoe-down. He has a passel of friends who are really great musicians and several of them came over to entertain the rest of us. The little video clip was sent to me by the grandfather of the best of them to play there Saturday night. Check this guy out: Ladies and gentleman, This is JP Mason

Taking It Easy

"There's a girl, my Lord

In a flat bed Ford,

Slowing down to take a look at me"

A View From the Top

SO we're in Arizona and want to see the Grand Canyon. Tammy gets the notion that it would be awesome to see it for the first time from a helicopter and sets it up with the outfit that has the most ad space on the website dedicated to touring the big ditch. By the time we get there, I’ve worked up a good deal of excitement about the whole thing myself. I mean the “terminal” is first class, the ground crew and pilots are wearing airline-like uniforms, the choppers are colored up real pretty and they had a bunch of ‘em. Cool.

There were about 25 people there waiting to ride and every one of them was from some other county. Asians and Scotsmen and Indians (far eastern), all jappering like magpies as they waited their turn in climbing aboard to fly off toward an unparalleled view of one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

After what seemed to be hours, they called us up to hand out our seat assignments. These were decided in deference to weigh distribution and Tammy’s little card said “SEAT-1”, while mine said “SEAT-5”. Uh? Seat Five? Wait a minute here, the damn things weren’t big enough for more than 4 seats and one of them had to be the pilot. Right? How could I have seat FIVE?

Turns out there weren’t five seats, there were Seven! Tammy crawls up in the front seat next to the pilot and I climb in the back (which has the floor space of a bath tub) with four fat Germans. They were fat because they had just enjoyed a big meal. And how do I know they had just eaten a big meal? Because 4 minutes into the 45 minute trip, I had the misfortune to see that meal as it made its way back out the way it had gone in.

There’s no ventilation in the back and the sun steaming in the window is baking the chunks of Fahrvergnügen to their collective chins. Did I mention that I was sitting backwards, directly across from two of these air-sick Tourist? I try not to look at ‘em, but the only other place I can look is toward the outside, which you’d think was manifest in a big window. WRONG. My seat was adjacent to a support post and the only way I could see out was to crane my neck into an unnatural “S” shape that (I can tell you) is hard to maintain for 45 minutes, WHILE HOLDING YOUR BREATH!

By twisting my head around 180 degrees (think Linda Blair in The Exorcist), I can see Tammy lounging in her quarter of the cabin. Is she suffering the truly unholy odor of regurgitated sauerkraut? NO! Turns out she has her very own fresh air vent, which the snotty little pilot regulated to her every whim. Yeah, there she was with her hair blown back as she gazed in awe at the panoramic view of what we’d BOTH traveled a couple of thousand miles to see.

Ah hell, I was happy for her.

Change in the weather

What the hell are these guys looking at?

Turned off cold again today. What a bitch. Payment (I reckon) for the great weather this past weekend, which I spent in Paris at my very good buddy Fearless Charlie Nash's family farm. It was second and third ITSA event of the year and it came just in the nic of time. I appreciate the promoters at each event I attend, large or small they all do a great job. Having said that, I'll have to say that no one trys any harder than Charlie does to make it a positive experience. Food, fishing, great give aways, and an atention to detail that has to be seen to believe. Thanks Charlie, for the effort. What ever you hoped this past weekend would be, it was (and more). You could have tried half as hard and it would have still been great.

Oh yeah, the sections were good too.

First ride

I love motorcycles. I’ve been riding them for over 40 (plus) years and never met one I didn’t like (a little bit). I’ve had a Harley of some kind for the last 30 years and never thought I want anything else to ride the roads with. Then about year ago while working with my good buddy Bob Ginder on a trials bike project, I needed to make a quick trip back to my house to pick up some parts I’d forgotten to bring with me when I drove up that morning. Bob was kind enough to make the trip more interesting by offering to let me pilot his BMW F650GS instead of my old ratty pickup.

I’m not a brand-name snob and the thing looked like it’d be a fun (at least a different) ride. Long story short, it ruined me. I liked it and the feeling grew as time past by. I’ve been watching for one ever since and last week a hot prospect popped up on the old EBay. An offer accepted and a 950 mile trip later and I’m in the saddle.

That was last Thursday, and today my sweetie and I took advantage of a break in the storms to air it out a little. We made about 110 miles, most of it on the curviest roads in Humphreys County. We got caught in the rain once, but still had a blast.

I guess I need to pour a little gas stabilizer in the Harley……….

Supercamp

Me and Mennonite Mike have been talking about the American Supercamp for some time. Supercamp is a dirt track racing-type school that moves about the country and hit Du Quion IL this past weekend. Long story short, we decided we’d likely not have a better chance, so we went for it. What ensued was two days of unmercifully hammering on some Yamaha TTR 125s, as well a good deal of the same on a couple of middle-aged bodies. Was it worth the pain and expense? Well, hell yes it was! We had a blast and I recommend it to anyone who ever wanted a little taste of that sort of motorcycling. The clip here was taken with my little digital camera. Poor quality and at that, some that doesn’t include us (we were always up at the same time). Still, it’s slice of the experience.

Like Old Times

I got started riding trials many moons ago and I’ve had some excellent riding partners over the years. Never (ever) such a great collection as I have now, although I have to say I probably miss my two favorites the most. My Brother Joe has faded in and out of it, over the entire length of my experience (I’m very confident he will again). I know I’ll bring him out if Speck or Trent gets too big for their britches. SO keep that in mind if you get to pushing me too hard, with all your new high tech ways, shifting your weight right and left, making new lines on tricked out scooters that look like they belong to Judge Dread........

Well I felt the need to ride some on the first sunny Sunday we'd seen in weeks, so I approached a shady bunch I know up the road. Man, I needed that. I'll put it like this; I'd lost my youth back there in the hills (or down in the creek) and I needed time to explore, maybe even find it back there somewhere.

Skeptical they were, but agree to allow me and my number 1 partner and join in the adventure. Numero uno is none other than the Kid himself. He (who hadn’t saddled up in two years), up and accepted my invitation and we rode for hours. I had a great time and I think he did too. He’s rusty and held back some, but he’s got that old Wallace-on-wheels thing going for him. Think he gets it from Joe.

It was really great having him there and I think I found what I was looking for. Happy Trails ahead

Christmas Visit

If you've checked this blog more than once and found nothing new, I apologize. I'll try to do better.

Well, the holidays have come and gone. Basically, thiat time of year is pure maddness and I'm glad things are back to normal. I think the holidays get a bad rap becuase they happen to occur during winter. Upside, my little girl came home for a few days. She's a doll, huh? We miss her everyday around here and it was good to be the old family unit again. That said and now that she's hopped the big silver bird back to Florida, I'm ready for summer time again.