Ask, Care, Escort.... and RIDE!!!!

Hello friends.  I hope this post finds each of you well and that you are enjoying all that Spring has to offer.  I especially hope that you are able to be racking up some of those two wheeled miles that have proven to be elusive to me.

If you’re in search of a place to ride and a reason to do so, let me help you out.  Bear with me here for a minute as I unload on you a burden that weighs heavy on my heart. 

Since the attacks on 9-11, our country has been at war, the longest war in the history of our nation.  A war like we have never before fought, and with an all volunteer force.  We’ve all watched the 24 hour news feeds of the war on our televisions, from the streaks of green flame of the anti-aircraft batteries around Baghdad, to the earth trembling scenes of IED explosions in Kandahar.  We have seen the toppling of Saddam’s statues along with the hanging of Saddam himself.  We have celebrated the death of Osama Bin Laden and mourned the loss of our sons, daughters, fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters in uniform.

Eleven years of war.  It has lasted so long that there are some that forget we are even still fighting.  Nearly 5,000 of our servicemen and women have paid the ultimate price on the battlefields of Iraq and Afghanistan.  Five thousand front porch visits from stone faced messengers telling a family that their loved one will not be returning.  Devastating.

Now, let’s talk about something else equally as devastating and to me, far more shocking and unacceptable.  Our military are coming home from war zones daily.  We celebrate them.  We call them heroes, and deservedly so.  They stood in the gap for us.  They laid their lives on the line for us.  They accepted as part of their daily lives, the understanding that if by chance their life was to be given for us, then so be it.  But what happens to them after the welcome home parties? 

Our military are being killed at an unacceptable rate, but not necessarily by the enemies of our country.  They are dying by their own hand, and they are doing it at an alarming rate.

 

Fact:  Our veterans are committing suicide at the rate of nearly 2 dozen per day. 

Fact: There are many specific risks that our veterans are dealing with including:

·                              Multiple deployments to hostile environments

·                              Length of deployments

·                              Exposure to extreme stress, death, and combat.

·                             Physical and sexual assault while in service (not limited just to women)

·                            Service related injuries such as Traumatic Brain Injury (TBI), Post-Traumatic 

               Stress Disorder (PTSD), and other mental health diagnoses.

Fact: When our veterans receive the needed (and available) care from a VA facility (specifically a VA Serious Mental Illness Treatment, Research, and Evaluation Center), they are three times LESS likely to commit suicide. 

Friends, this has to stop!  

In step the American Gold Star Mothers, specifically Mrs. Cindy Tatum and Mrs. Molly Morel.  The AGSM’s are an association of ladies who have lost children in military service to our country.   If you will recall, Bumpus Harley-Davidson teamed with these remarkable ladies last summer and launched "A Tour of Duty" in which we were able to raise over $25,000 to help fund the building of a Fisher House facility in Murfreesboro.  The issue of soldier suicide (as well as Marine, Sailor, and Airman…. As these Marine mom’s quickly pointed out to me) was one that weighed on them as much as me.  We began the process of researching what was needed and what could be done.  Into the picture steps Irene Trebilcock, an active duty member of the TN Army National Guard, a dedicated Harley-Davidson rider, an Iraq veteran, friend and wife of BHD sales team member and Iraq veteran Dan Trebilcock.  Irene is also the liaison for the TN National Guard for suicide prevention. 

Here’s what we learned.  There are many programs that are set up for our returning veterans to seek and receive the assistance they need.  What we do not have is AWARENESS!  The culture in which our vets exist does not always lend itself to one that encourages them to seek help.  We have to help them through that barrier. 

This need sparked “A Tour of Duty II”, a ride to end the epidemic of veteran suicide.  We are partnering with the AGSM’s to raise money to fund awareness campaigns for the programs that can and will save the life of a vet on the precipice.  We will also spread the word across the state of Tennessee of how we can break the cycle amongst the veterans that exist in our circle of family and friends. 

This Saturday, June 8 at all Bumpus HD locations, TOD2 will launch.  Here’s how it works.  Stop by any BHD location.  With your $20 registration fee, you will receive a powerful “Tour of Duty II” t-shirt emblazoned across the back with the warning signs of veteran suicide, and a passport.  The ride functions like this.  Take that passport to all other BHD locations and get a stamp.  You can ride at your own leisure whenever you have time to do so.  The ride will culminate with a final bash at BHD in Jackson on July the 20^th.  Have your completed passport in to us by that time, drop it in a bucket and one lucky rider will win a $2500 Bumpus HD card. 

The tour is every day.  You can register at any time.  If you can’t make the ride, hit every location, or don’t ride at all, no problem.  Your $20 donation will still get you a t-shirt. 

More importantly, you’ll be making a difference amongst those that offered their life for yours.  They deserve it. 

It’s all about the ACE card…

A.C.E.

ASK-     Ask a veteran if they are ok.  Do they ever think of hurting themselves.

Care-     Care for a veteran.  Remove means for self harm.  Remain calm.  Actively listen and show

              understanding.  Produce relief. 

Escort-  Escort the veteran.  Never leave them alone.  Get them to a VA facility or emergency room.  Call a suicide prevention hotline.

For more information on Tour of Duty II contact me at scott.bumpus@bumpusharleydavidson.com or

Memphis area Joe Kilpatrick at joe.kilpatrick@bumpusharleydavidson.com

Middle Tennessee Kathy Potter at kathy.potter@bumpusharleydavidson.com

Jackson area Brittany Crouse at b.crouse@bumpusharleydavidson.com

For more information on suicide prevention contact The Veterans Crisis Line at 1-800-273-8255 or www.veteranscrisisline.net

Ride safe and with purpose and I’ll see you this Saturday for the kickoff.

Are you ready??

Here it is.  It’s the first week of March and I can’t remember I year when I’ve been off to a slower start.  I literally have not been more than 10 miles on a motorcycle since the middle of November.  Shameful!!  Not only did I hit my mileage goal last year, I kicked its ass.  Nearly 10,000 miles in a year!  That’s huge for me!  By the end of the first quarter last year I was sitting at nearly 2,000 miles and here I sit, with a sense of shame and an odometer loaded with goose eggs.  

Alas, the waning days of winter serve as a renaissance for my soul.  My mind is starting to race with the thoughts of getting back out there.  If you’ve followed any of my social media silliness, you might have seen that the bike I’d gotten set up for this year actually sold as it sat on the floor waiting for the weather to give a brief window.  Now, there’s a replacement on the rack, getting all dolled up for the ball.  The Old Red Sleds replacement, the as yet unnamed 2013 FLTRU Road Glide Ultra in Midnight Pearl, exquisitely yet tastefully dressed with all that I enjoy.

I spent the evening tonight gathering all of my gear which had begun to spread through my world.  As my riding slowed toward the end of last year, all organization began to slip and I’d find myself stumbling upon bits and pieces of it here and there.  That’s the first step toward losing my stuff, so I made up my mind that it was time to stem the spread and get everything back in order.  Typically, I’ll compartmentalize my gear.  I’d keep my raingear and gaiters together, leathers and other cold weather gear together, etc.  Without fail, I’d find myself needing the one set that happened to be in a closet at home when I was trying to hit the road from the store, and vice versa.  I’m trying something different this year.  Angie brought me home this great bag that HD has had out for a couple years.  

It’s a monster, but it’s able to hold all of my stuff in one bag.  It’s pretty versatile.  In the bag, I lined the bottom first with all of my heated gear.  On one internal pouch, I have my heated boots, heated jacket and pants, a set of “Under Armor”, the pouch containing my heated gloves (inside which I also keep my thermostat and splitter), my balaclava, toboggan, and waterproof gloves.  In another pouch, my raingear and gaiters.  Finally, the bottom was rounded out with my leather pants, chaps, heavy leather jacket, and technical pullover.  After sealing off that section, I next filed away my hydration jacket and a lightweight mechanics jacket.   

The outer pouches are equally great.  One holds all of my gloves, another, my electronic accessories, and finally, one for an atlas, bungee net, journal and pencil sharpeners.  Sounds like a lot of stuff for a ride, and, you know what?  It is.  I’ll never carry all of this stuff, but my new bag will serve as a rolling closet where I can find everything I need in one spot and never have to search.

Spring.  It’s here.  The riding season is here.  Mark your calendars for March 23.  Kickstands Up For a Cure will kick off the riding event schedule at Bumpus HD Jackson with a great event for Relay for Life and you can join yours truly for a Monday April Fools ride on Monday, April the 1^st.  Make plans, gather your gear, top off your gas tank, clear your head and join me as I say……..

Screw it, let’s ride. 

2013.  The year of the spinning odometer. 

Ride Safe, and with Purpose.

SMB

Some thoughts this Christmas

I've almost been a little embarrassed about coming back over here to blogville, where I first met you through this medium a little over a year ago.  I've neglected this thing so much over the last couple months as life happened that I really didn't know if it was too late to even come back.  But alas, the nostalgia of Christmas has overtaken me and I thought I would return to pen a few thoughts that have been floating through this old brain of mine.

 "A Christmas Story" is on the tube, as my bride finishes her thankless job of wrapping the very gifts that will soon be under the tree, the fruits of her labors soon torn and scattered.  My sweet Princess is home for the holiday and here I sit in my chair, a nice glass of upscale red as my treat for the day.  I'm a sucker for Christmas and all the trappings.  I almost can see myself in one of those old Norman Rockwellian paintings, though I doubt Norman would have wanted me as a subject.  It's the romantic in me, I guess.  I love the lights, the twinkles and smells and the memories they spark in my synapses.  I think back on Christmases of my past, as I was a kid.  Thoughts of paper tearing destruction... Thoughts of my own children, watching them grow against the backdrop of the holiday.

I think back on this year, and what a roller coaster ride it was.  I checked myself against my resolutions that I made this time last year.  See Resolutions


Here's a quick scorecard:

     1.  I will ride at least 8,000 miles this year:  Status... SUCCESS!! Due to some determination, and fortunate scheduling, I was able to rack up 9,985 miles this year, many on my beloved Old Red Sled... Ah, a tear is still shed from time to time for the old girl... See "The Secret to a Happy Ending"

     2.  Unless absolutely necessary, while on a motorcycle road trip, my bike will not lead me to "chain restaurants".  Status.... SUCCESS!!  Although, it's somewhat of a cop out by saying "Unless absolutely necessary" I can honestly say that I was able to stand by this tenet of road tripping the vast majority of the time.

     3.  Continue to remind myself that interstates have no soul and only serve one purpose to the traveling motorcyclist.  Status..... Eh.... I tried, God knows I tried, but there were a few trips that time constraints made me sell my soul to the 4 laned Satan...

     4.  See three different mountain ranges.  Status.... Eh, partial success.  I did get to burn a good bit of gasoline in the Smoky's this summer and was able to ride through the Ozark range, but the Rockies alluded me another year...

     5.  See an old friend.  Status.... Fail.  While I did get the chance to do a lot of visiting this year of great places and friends, that's not what I was getting at with this goal.  "He" is the subject of another ride and another blog on another day.  I'll make it up there before long, Buddy.  Mark my words.

     6.  Take my kids riding with me more than I did last year.  Status... SUCCESS!!!  Got another epic trip with one of my fabulous young'uns.  I'll never forget it, Princess.  See A Birthday Present for Me .

    
     7.  Make a difference.  Status.... Well, the jury still may be out on that one, but I was part of some pretty awesome things for some pretty deserving people.  See Doing Something For Dalton and A Tour of Duty

     8.  I'll enjoy the sheer beauty of cheese and cracker lunches on the side of the road at every opportunity.  Status..... Monster SUCCESS!!!  Thanks again to Tom Bumpus, the roadside chef of the century.

Tonight, I spend Christmas Eve with half of my family.  The boys will be home in the morning, but I'm healthy.  My home is warm.  We are all intact and safe.  My thoughts are with others tonight.  Tonight, two families that I love are remembering their sons, who are not celebrating Christmas with their families.  Others are with loved ones in hospitals.  Still more sit alone tonight.  Keep them in your prayers.  Friends, be thankful for what you have and never take it for granted. 

Tonight, I am thankful for the memories of this past year, and I'm thankful for the adventure that the future brings.  I'm thankful for you, my dear reader, and the people who have graced the doors at Bumpus Harley-Davidson.  You humble me and I am truly grateful for each of you.  I'm thankful for each and every one of my team at BHD.  Ladies and Gentlemen, you are a blessing.  I'm thankful for my parents, and my brothers.  I am thankful for my wife and my beautiful children. 

And tonight, I'm thankful for the Baby, born of a virgin... a firstborn son, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and laid in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn....

Next year, may we all strive to "make room in the inn" for someone.

Merry Christmas and as always, Ride Safe, and with purpose.

SMB

For Alex

New frontiers, new journeys, new experiences, and new memories to be made.  These thoughts race through my head today as I sit in this quiet hotel room.  

Today, something happens for the first time in my family in probably 70 years.  A Bumpus changes their name.  Today, my beautiful Niece Alexandria Michelle Bumpus will become Mrs. Joshua Ryan McDonald.   

 I have to take pause as I read that back to myself… That strikingly pretty little girl, ponytail tied on top of her head, couldn’t help but dance every time she heard the slightest cadence of rhythm, eyes that would strike holes through steel with her inquisitiveness, becomes a bride. And then a wife.  And then a mother for young Mason.

To my brother Tom and sister-in-law Angie, all I can say is “well done”.  You have brought Alex to this point.  You have crafted her and guided her into the thoughtful loving woman that shall stand before us in white here in a few hours.  Your nights of lying awake and worrying about her future and what life held for her have paid off. The example you have set for her has had the desired result and that is a spiritual, hard working, happy young woman, whom has grabbed the world by the horns, settled for nothing, fallen deeply head over heels in love and is prepared for this next phase of life.  Rest in the comfort of knowing that your little girl may be grown, but is not gone.  She still is yours and will be forever.

To my soon to be nephew, Josh… Congratulations and welcome to our family.  We are proud to have you.  We know that you love Alex and in turn, we see the love that she has for you.  Thank you for being the man you are.  Continue to be that loving father to Mason and husband to Alex as you set out on life's journey together.  Love her through all of the rocky paths you may take.  Love her through all of the struggles that will surely lie before you, as they do all couples.  Love her through all of the smiles and tears, the laughter and sorrows, the triumphs and tragedies.  We love you and couldn’t imagine a finer addition to our lives.

My sweet radiant Alex.  I have never been more proud of a young woman and the life that she has made for herself.  I love who you are.  I love who you have become, and I can’t wait to see what life holds for you.  You make me smile.  There are no words of wisdom that I can give you that you probably have not already heard but just know, you have an uncle a hundred and a half miles down the road that will drop everything in a second to help you or to be a kind word of guidance whenever the need arises.  Be thankful for your parents and the way that they have raised you.  Hang on to those memories of breakfasts with your daddy.  Airline peanuts at the end of a trip.  The proud smiles of a mother as you trotted to the highest prizes in the land.  More words later for just you and I.

Thank you for the memories that we were able to make on our motorcycle trip a couple months back and here’s too many many more of the same.  Your Uncle “Too-it” will always love you.

What a happy happy day.

Everyone reading, at 4PM on October 6^th, 2012, raise a glass and lift a toast to Mr. and Mrs. Josh McDonald and wish them all the best in the world.  I love them both.

Ride Safe and with Purpose.

In My Brain... Epilogue

September 3...

"It's knowing that your door is always open and your path is free to walk, that makes me tend to leave my sleeping bag rolled up and stashed behind your couch..."--Glenn Campbell

Home.  The bike is emptied and it now sits silently in the garage, its first time indoors in a week.  Bags dumped out on the bedroom floor, laundry sorted.  My ears still buzzing in the quiet of my living room, echoing the wind and dull cadence of the exhaust.  The mixture of emotions and exhaustion.  Tired and glad to be home and a bit of depression that it is done. 

The hurricane that we'd expected to escort us the better part of the way from Milwaukee to Springfield never really materialized to the extent that was forecasted.  Other than some gusts of wind and about 30 miles of moderate rain, the day was uneventful.  The Labor Day weekend in Springfield has always been one of the major cornerstone events in my motorcycling life as far back as I can remember.  This is the home of the Springfield Mile, the greatest even in motorcycle dirt track racing, and in all of motorsports if you ask me.  Growing up, I was 'that' kid.  I didn't have the Walter Payton or Ryne Sandberg posters adorning my walls, like most of my childhood friends, but rather, my heroes in the world of sport were the larger than life characters that risked life and limb battling it out in the black clay corners of the Mile, and other tracks across the US.  Names like Ricky Graham, Jay Springsteen, and Steve Moorehead.  I spent scores of Labor Day Sundays in the stands cheering for the likes of Randy Goss, Bubba Shobert, and the greatest dirt tracker of all time, Scott Parker.  I shed tears at the loss of greats like Ted Boody and Davey Camlin.  Gladiators who fearlessly gave it all they had as they locked the throttles of their XR's wide open down the straights, drafting tightly into the corners and then dropping that left foot into the dirt and slinging it sideways. They did it not for the money, but for the love of the sport that is so intertwined in the history of motorcycling. 

Getting to Springfield to find out that the rain that Isaac had delivered in previous days was more than the track could shed was a disappointment.  Race postponed for two weeks.  Damn.  I can count on one hand the number of Miles that I've missed since I was a kid.  Oh well.

The change of plans did offer me an opportunity that is rare for me lately.  Angie and I quickly shifted our plans and cut out by ourselves and hit the road.  Now, let me explain.  Part of what I do as a motorcycle dealer is facilitate opportunities for my customers to get out and enjoy their bikes.  That was the sole purpose of this trip to Milwaukee to begin with, but I jumped at the chance to ride with no one else but her.  One bike, our schedule, our speed. 

"A gypsy wind is blowing warm tonight.  The sky is starlit and the time is right...."-- Bob Seger

Together we rode south.  It was a game we played as we dodged the circular spinning skies of the dying hurricane as it coughed its final breaths.  A dance.  A chess match with the clouds.  Speed up here, slow down there.  Change the route, stay southbound, now turn east as soon as we can.  Every now and then the rain would catch us and we'd tuck in and hammer through it, bike wet, smiles wide.  More often than not though, we were able to avoid the weather.  The road was ours.

We made our way to Carterville Illinois and spent the night with our friends Shad and Dana Zimbro.  Shad is a fellow Harley dealer and also my 'brother'. 

Proverbs 27:17 "As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another"... 

Thank you Shad and Dana for a great night.  You are excellent hosts and the precious few times we all get to be together are always wonderful.  Thank you for the laughs and the tears and the different sets of eyes and ears for each of us to bounce our thoughts off of.

As we made our way home, I took the chance at riding old Hwy 51 through southern Illinois.  Old 51 is a dinosaur, a quiet, tree-lined ghost town all of its own as it snakes through the valleys of the Cache river before it dumps off in Cairo.  You see, if you follow 51 on a map, you'll be on I-57 from Anna all the way to Cairo, as someone with more pull than me felt that would be a more efficient way of moving cars from one place or another.  One interstate with two names.  To find and follow old 51, you almost have to imagine where the road used to go in order to find it.  I marvelled at the old foundations that dot the landscape as we passed down the old blacktop.  What were these places?  Old filling stations now used as storage sheds.  Abandoned motels, with their broken neon signs still standing.  Cafes who'd coffee is long since gone cold.  "Tired" little towns like Mounds Illinois, whom most people will never see, as they roar down I-57, scanning the passing billboards, none of which making any mention of the wonderful nearly extinct world that used to exist on the old two-lane that served its purpose so well.  The soul of America lives on two-laned highways.  Find them.

And then the road ended at my driveway.  Showered, and fed and ready to get back to the world tomorrow.  Thank you to the new friends I made on this journey and to the others that I got to know even better.  Thanks to my family and bride for joining my and allowing me to be a part of their journey as well.  And thanks be to God for getting me home safely and for another trip to catalog away in my files for my memory to peruse and relive after I've taken my last ride.

"I believe I'm gonna count my blessings..."--Ray Wylie Hubbard

And thanks to my iPod for serving up a damn good soundtrack.

Ride Safe and with purpose.

Scott