A world in flames

There, now. Thirteen pictures of a world in flames. Vehicles, yes. Vehicles, of course. That's what those flames are all about -- hot cars. A celebration of speed. Of studliness.

Of course, the flames could enhance one's poker tournament.

Or a mini-bike. Or an over-developed hog (below).

A flame or two might help sell red hots (or poor boys -- this lovely outfit was in a collection I saw in Memphis).

But in the past year, I've seen a lot of fire on clothing. F'rinstance, this Coors Tshirt or the fine sports shirt I recently spotted at Snap Snap (below).

People wear the stuff, too. Though I bet any boy child would choose the Batman sox over the hot sox at WalMart (below).

However, of all the flaming cars and sleeves and beer commercials I've seen, here's a sentimental reminder of the Detroit that was -- a thoroughtly patriotic Mustang. I do hope that the chilly economy doesn't douse the fire & spirit of the country; we need those flames even more today and tomorrow.

What's with all those bikers?

How many times did I see this scene repeated today? I didn't stop to count the ways. However, anybody who was out and about around noon probably saw the many clumps of bikers headed through town on their way to ??? I even saw a clutch of them parked briefly on Coronado just across from Lincoln School.

I thought perhaps they were headed up to Mormon Lake for the un-Sturgis event there. However, a quick consult with The Google dismissed that idea; Too Broke for Sturgis takes place in late July. Last year, over 1200 cyclers made the scene in the high country (above). Further research uncovered the facts that 1) this is Arizona Bike Week and 2) today there was a 260-mile Riding for Kids Charity Run. Figures; the bikers we saw today were coming up Iron Springs Road, the wuss-route, instead of taking the curves of the White Spar through the mountains.

Once the weather warms up here (and gets too hot down in the Phoenix area), the motorcycles begin their regular pilgrimages to Prescott. One sees all sorts of bikes parked at the Square and on Whiskey Row.

I can't decide whether to dream of a proper all-BLACK machine -- or indulge my weak spot for R*E*D! A Harley, of course.

Today the Harley is such an American icon that we support a chain of Harley shoppes for leathers, bandanas, Ts and all manner of paraphernalia. But then, it took the taming of the Easy Rider image to rescue Harley Davidson back in the early 80s, when the company was about to go belly up. Now, you know when you see a flamboyant bike that the owner is probably a stock broker living in one of those $-million built-from-scratch "lofts" in the big cities of America. Once in a while -- just once in a while -- we see a group of gray-bearded, over-the-hill bikers in their black leather vests and bandanas roar into town. Oh, nostalgia!

Thank goodness the rebel image lives on in the cartoon strip, Rose Is Rose, where that sweet wife and mother at left harbors an inner biker who periodically surfaces when the suburban life gets to be too much.

All in a day's vehicles

The day I quested in vain for ravens at the Courthouse Square I did, however, hit a bingo on vehicles of note. First, this thoroughly remodeled & re-wheeled Ford.

As for the Pinzgauer, no way I could overlook such a we-vill-be-orderly, Germanic truck. The Sson wants one in the worst way and always takes time out to visit the local dealer when he's in town. Alas, one of these days, there will be no more of these imports nor of Unimogs, also popular in our Outback.

Less orderly local touches: a deer antler on the front bumper and agave seedpods peeking over the dashboard.

Now here's a variation on the basic bike that's news to me. Anyone out there who can explain the advantage of such a low-rider arrangement? Nice chrome.

This ladylike quad ATV was spotted in the bed of a crew cab pick-up also parked at the Square. I particularly applaud the flowery suitcase attached to the carrier platform at the rear.

Linkages: First, a reminder that my Aussie Bro has reinvigorated his blog with a new name, Antipodean Curmudgeon, and a grump about modern misused English. Next, there's yet another bicycle blog originating here in town, GO! Adventure Recreation by name. While we're out enjoying the scenery, another new blog: Road Trip Arizona. And you might also want to look at the awesome pictures of Glen Canyon Dam that Quilted Dogs recently posted. Finally, there's another stab at a local news source, QuadCitiesAZ; maybe you have an item to contribute that's the equal of the 50 foot wide easement for a trail in Chino that has a well pump house right in the middle.

OK, Yellow Is for Safety!

Another of those spooky, serendipitous moments! Early this afternoon, an old buddy gave me a ring. He had just come up the White Spar* on his bike. Was I home?

And so he showed up. On his yellow Kawasaki. What's with the yellow, I ask. It's very visible, says the buddy, as he takes off helmet and other black and yellow safety gear.

I should have figured -- after all, didn't I just post all those yellow warning signs? Two plus two, you know.

Anyhow, here is buddy, looking like a yellow jacket hornet as he gets ready to take off.

*The White Spar Road, for those of you who don't know the area, is the old mountain route into Prescott. It is a fine 15-mile road with a couple hundred curves, beloved of bikers. Some day I'll write about it.

Yellow Is the Color...

... of the sun and of daisies

... fire hydrants and fire rules

... road and traffic warnings

... machinery that works for a living

But, lately, just one heck of a lot of vehicles are showing up in yellow -- pickup trucks, jeeps...

...and classy new sedans,

...his'n her dirt bikes

... and even a fully loaded hog. As one who loves bright, strong colors, I really applaud this trend away from all those don't-see-me colors that have drabbened (endrabbed?) our city streets for too long. Everybody: give a hip hip hooray for yellow!

Link of the Day

Years ago my Uncle Max worked for Coronado National Forest, out of Tucson. My younger brother and I were invited down from Phoenix for a couple of days. So Uncle Max drove down on his Indian (I believe) motorcycle, while Aunt Betty drove the pick-up truck. We were parcelled out between the two of them. That's my only bike ride in my whole life -- and it still is memorable. Wind in my hair as we raced across the desert -- all the Good Things. By way of introducing a site with a batch of historic and antique motorcycles, starting with the 1885 Daimler.

Yesterday's Bikes

Being as how Prescott is a beautiful little mountain city, it follows that there might be some interesting highways to reach it. And indeed there are. In particular, there's the White Spar (named after either a mine way outback or a great big white quartz outcropping on a mountainside in the Prietas.) Our visitors tried counting the turns in the 12 mile stretch coming into town one time. Two hundred & thirty. I don't remember if that counted those U's going in and out of big folds in the mountain as one or two curves. Anyhow, you can imagine how such a road would appeal to bikers. We get a lot of them.

Not to mention those who live here. This fine chrome was parked over at Hastings. Is the owner in for video, book or game?

Also at Hastings, this brushed metal model. I trust that the owner is named Buren or Dyke or Halen or Helsing. Otherwise, he/she is parked where he/she doesn't belong.

Speaking of what belongs where and to whom, I saw this many-speed real bike for sale over by Albertson's. The signs pleaded for money so a vet could go home. Then I saw the putative vet. I wonder where he ripped off this set of wheels.

Biker Robot

Nothing neater than walking along and suddenly catching sight of a 10-foot-tall chrome-plated fellow. He stands down at the lower end of Granite St., guarding or more likely welcoming folk to the Electric Hog. Which is where they do custom things to one's Harley. Of course.

I was taking the long way to the Phippen show on the Plaza Monday when I happened across him. I'm more smitten by this gaudy character than by any of the incredible number of bronzes of horses & more horses I saw on the Square later in the day.

Do take a look (below) at his special features. For example, the hair-do is grand. The ears? Well, his creator might have used small dish antennas instead. At the bottom of the picture, you can see either A) his abs & insides (including a loudspeaker for belching) or B) his privates. I haven't figured out which. But the finishing touch is my favorite -- the rear view mirror welded to one arm.

Anybody out there know his name? If so, drop a note in the comment box below. Otherwise, he remains some version of "Hey! You!" He deserves better.