THE GULF OF MEXICO
By Duncan
DUNCAN - GULF OF MEXICO.
A property next to the railroad tracks will sell for a different amount than a property overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Yes, I know, it is an obvious statement. I don’t mean to insult your intelligence; we all understand this fact of life.
And yes, this next visit is with my Personal and Very Close Friend, Mr. James (Jim) Tsareff. He doesn’t own this fine property but has friends in very high places. He has a “friend” in Germany who rents this place. And if you don’t say anything, the (The Landlord in far-off places) will never know I was here. Keep it on the “down low. Okay?”
The pool area and back deck
Jim Tsareff
Yes, it’s lovely to have friends who have friends. As Jim walked me through the property, Jim was glowing as we went through the living area, the kitchen, and the dining room; my mouth was wide open. Wow, what a place.
Dining - Kitchen
Living area
My bedroom
My bathroom
My shower and tub
Then Jim walked to the back deck, with its zero-edge or vanishing edge swimming pool that looks like the pool is part of the Gulf of Mexico, and a grand hot tub with warm 103° water, inviting me, screaming for me to join the fun. I held my breath. I had to ask, “Jim, how many women will this hot tub hold at one time?” He said, “It depends if they are wearing bathing suits.”
Okay, He didn’t say that, but I thought about it. It’s my degenerate mind at work, considering the ultimate experience. Jim just smiled. He knew what I was thinking. Wow, I get to enjoy this place for a few days. Me?
Jim and I have known each other for about twenty-five years. We first met at a little bar on the northeast corner of Indianapolis, where about fifty motorcycles came to have a beer and admire motorcycle chrome. I didn’t realize there are two kinds of bikers: men who ride their bikes to a bar, have a beer or two, look at their chrome, and go home.
Then, some men love to ride more than sitting around in a bar drinking beer. Those bikes they ride are called “Touring Bikes,” which means we tour/travel all over the United States riding our motorcycles.
When I met Jim at that northeast Indianapolis bar for the first time, he invited me to travel with him. I thought he was just being nice and didn’t give it much thought. I thought he wanted to travel to Carmel or Noblesville—maybe a half-hour ride and have lunch or dinner. After all, I was new to this world of motorcycles. I had no idea he was talking all over the United States.
At some point, we talked again, and he said he and his best friend, Ralph, were riding to Key West and invited me to have lunch with them at 1:00 PM on a Thursday at the Hog’s Breath Saloon in Key West, Florida.
I had never heard of Hog’s Breath, so I looked it up online. It’s one of many bars on the strip in Key West that seem to have their following. Was he serious? Lunch, Key West?
Well, I thought, What kind of invitation is that? Do you really expect me to ride my Gold Wing motorcycle from Indianapolis to Key West and simply walk into the Hogs Breath at 1:00 PM for lunch? That’s crazy!!! I checked the map to prove to myself it was crazy.
This is not going to happen; there is no way I’m riding a motorcycle one thousand four hundred miles to have lunch with someone I barely know. I can’t do that!!
Then again, I thought to myself. I have had women telling me what I can and can’t do all my life. It starts with a mother: “No, you can’t have a motorcycle.”
Then my first wife says, “No, you are the breadwinner, you have a son and a family to care for, and you’re not going to kill yourself on a motorcycle. No!”
Then the second wife said, “Are you crazy? You don’t know how to ride a motorcycle; you're not good enough?” Or was it simply in her mind that I was not enough? Who knows how long a woman's cutting words stay in the back of a guy's head?
So, it was time for this guy (me) to travel my path. I was single again, and I decided I wanted a motorcycle. I went to the Harley-Davidson motorcycle store and walked around the showroom. I realized I would never own a bike.
The prices for a new Harley were close to thirty thousand dollars. ($30,000.) I don’t have that kind of money. I’m divorced and broke. My dream of a motorcycle began to fade. I was almost despondent standing there in the showroom.
Dave Elmore
“I’ll buy you one if you buy me one.” A well-dressed man came up behind me.
I turned and said, “I can’t afford one of these; you will have to buy your own.”
“I can’t afford a new motorcycle either.”
Dave Elmore is a retired Indianapolis Motorcycle Police Officer who rode Harley motorcycles daily as part of his job. He tells me he rode them and can’t afford to own one, either.
We stood and talked for close to an hour. I had a new friend. He took me from having a pity party with myself to have a realistic goal. He suggested I consider a low-mileage used motorcycle for three to five thousand dollars and get to know or get involved with motorcycle groups. You, the reader, already know the path I have taken. Dave was an important part of my path to owning my motorcycle.
What makes a man get angry and Rebel against the norm? Or what others tell me is the “norm.” At some point, a man has got to say to himself,
“Screw it! I’m buying a motorcycle. Now, Duncan, what are you going to do with it? Are you going to let it sit in the garage and look at the chrome, or will you get it out and ride the damn thing?”
I received an invitation to lunch. The invitation was to meet at a bar in Key West, Florida. As crazy as that sounds, I considered what I had to do to make it happen. The answer was simple: Ride my bike from one city to the next until I got to Key West. Suddenly, it seemed simple.
I will admit I thought I had made a mistake. I was on the road in southern Indiana and had to pull off the road because I was freezing. I was on an open-air motorcycle with an air temperature below freezing. I was sitting in the coffee shop, looking at the bike in the parking lot. What the hell was I doing? I don’t want to leave the coffee shop and go any further. I’m cold.
I had a come-to-a-Jesus meeting with myself. Were all the women in my life right? Women who told me I couldn’t do it because I was not strong or good enough?
It’s an interesting conversation I had with myself. After finishing my coffee, I zipped up my jacket, pulled on my gloves, tossed my leg over my cold leather motorcycle seat, and told myself, It’s NOT cold; stop thinking it’s cold. Get on your bike and enjoy the experience. You have wanted this your whole life.
Of course, when you get to Key West, you first have to prove you have been there. And what landmark is “Key West?” The buoy with all the information to let everyone know I made the trip.
Now, it was time to head to the Hog’s Breath Saloon. Would Jim be there, and was this trip all a big mistake? I parked my bike in the parking lot and entered the bar. Jim and Ralph were sitting at a table in front of the music.
Jim Tsareff - Ralph Benard - Duncan - Hogs Breath Saloon
If I look like I’m a little cocky, I am. This trip was my first solo motorcycle trip. Jim and Ralph were betting on whether or not I would show. And all of a sudden, I’m there. They were blown away. What a way to do lunch. Yes, it was crazy, but it was an experience to prove I can do this!!!
Over eight years of riding a bike, I've been on road trips with Jim all over the United States. His best friend Ralph passed shortly after I arrived in Key West.
As a result of natural selection, I was pleased to join a group of guys who loved to travel. Most of the time, the group consisted of 4-6-8 guys going somewhere: Big Bend, Texas, Crawford, Colorado, Daytona Bike Week; Sturgis, South Dakota, to name only a few.
In 2008, I stopped riding a motorcycle. I was making mistakes, little ones, but I knew if I continued, it would be a matter of time before I made a serious mistake. It’s just the way motorcycle accidents happen. So I sold the bike and bought a Mean Yellow, Pontiac, Solstice, GXP Supercharged two-seat hot rod. It was as close to a motorcycle as I could get.
I haven’t given up the travel. I love a good long road trip. And that’s where you find me, twelve hundred miles from home in a multi-million dollar home sitting on the Gulf of Mexico. Jim has invited me down to spend a few days.
The first order of business is, “What do you want to eat?” I asked, “You mean, food in the refrigerator?”
So it was off to Costco for the basics: eggs, bacon, hash browns, English muffins, orange juice, pork chops, steak, and Salmon. And anything else that caught our fancy.
Hash Browns cooking.
In the process, you make a mess.
Life is good. And the living is easy.
More tomorrow. (Ouch, It’s chilly and windy.)
