Dual Purpose, Dual Personalities Sporting Duality With Motorcycle Therapy & Entertainment


Ernest Hemingway 17 7/8

20121024-231439.jpg Big Ridge State Park – according to this Half Breed Duck/Turkey “Papa” was a father to many creatures…….”every first born bird in my family has been named Ernest Hemingway for 17 7/8 generations.”

Howdy Myst,                 (Edited Version Available 2020)

Leaving the Smokies felt sort of like we were crossing a point of no return. Our original plan for 3 or 4 weeks in the Smokies and Blue Ridge was about to become a 2 – 3 month odyssey. Whatever this Devil’s Triangle turns into……..there will be consequences. The decision to go for it had gelled with an email from our Buddhist Wedding Photographer, Motorcycle – Therapist, “hey if you are headed for BC let’s meet at the Horizons Unlimited Riders Meeting in Nakusp.” BWPMT (pronounced however you like) had described these folks who did extended journeys (at times around the globe) in search of Adventure and Life Changing experiences so we replied “sure, why not…….it might be refreshing to meet people who also have slippery attachments to reality, like us.” “You dudes are in your own league where reality is concerned……..I been readin da blog – yer friggin crazy!”

BWPMT could sound pretty mainstream at times, despite his hipster outer appearance. Wedding Photography probably confines you in some terrible way that never gets discussed……..sure there are all the bridesmaids, cake and money, but do we really understand the effects of attending weddings every weekend? Also, we have always had a wariness around vegetarians – the Karma thing makes sense, but c’mon – have some beef now and again – slum it with the rest of us! The old adage about not trusting someone who doesn’t drink once in a while parallels nicely here. “Yeah, but the people who really freak us out are folks that act normal, say normal things and think normal thoughts – they all are ticking time bombs (listen to a phone tap sometime). Common arrangements like Marriage can be Death Traps if not steered around obstacles…….the Titanic was destined to sink BECAUSE it was supposed to be unsinkable (Experts). BWPMT is basically a good guy, everyone – even fringe dwellers sound standard at times (it’s natural to have these “normal fantasies” on occasion). We decide to accommodate his delusion somewhat. “Well…..we have been fictionalizing the blog some, ya know – spicing things up a bit.”

BWPMT is relieved “whew! You guys were really starting to freak me out……..so where have you been stretching the truth?” Our biggest pet peeve is when somebody wants specifics regarding the lying…….it takes the fun out of it. “Can’t you just accept the Genuine Variability in our Sincerity/Deceit Ratio? It took a few days for BWPMT to return email, “Understanding everything doesn’t really fit with Buddhist philosophy anyway, we’re supposed to just laugh about stuff sometimes……so go ahead and Blog bizarrely – it’s cheaper than traditional therapy. Also Motorcycle – Therapy isn’t about always knowing where you are going…….it’s about departing your normal life and exploring unknown places.” Blah Blah Blah, BWPMT went on like this for a couple of paragraphs, it was all well meant.

We have come to a place in our life where departing is necessary, a minimalist trek via Motorcycle was the prescription, but events have consolidated along the way and here we are – from Various Cosmic Dimensions – massaging our way along Interesting Death Struggles – Chronicling End Times Weirdly (more weird than other scenarios?) and somehow providing Therapy to our Motorcycle. Kimmie Lou has been taking this whole end of the world thing badly, most people understand getting Motorcycle Therapy out of an Adventure Trip, but because we almost never conform to regular framework……..we find ourselves also giving Motorcycle Therapy to Kimmie Lou while receiving it from her simultaneously. The departure is happening – from Reality? – from Sanity? – from Conformity? Perhaps we are simply Embracing Variability, the journey so far has been freeing, over terrain we ride on and write about.

“Wow – that’s it! Our Mission Statement for the .org can be Embracing Variability This freedom we are experiencing……what about promoting that?” “Probably too vague” said Kimmie Lou, “remember how well defined, clear, concrete goals are needed to make an organization tick?” “You are right Kimmie Lou, organizations are tightly defined to achieve their goals, but all these goals aren’t making the world a better place – aside from enriching the organizations.” “Yeah, a lot of Corporations have charitable outreach divisions that are basically just an extension of their marketing strategy.” “Also a lot of Charitable organizations are subtly trying to market some religion or practice while “functioning” for the greater good and Executives in .org organizations are regularly reaping profits in the form of whopping salaries for themselves while conducting half-assed non-profit work.”

20121027-114309.jpg Knoxville is where RidicuRyder.org solidified its vision……..disturbed and variable, but vision(s) nonetheless.

Kimmie Lou was thinking this over, we were taking a break in downtown Knoxville, “so you guys are saying that aside from the Moral Duplicity in many Non-Profit Organizations there is a broad enough variability in the way they operate to justify another Non-Profit occupying itself with Variability.” “Yeah, also the variability blends nicely with diversity which is already well established.” “Look a .org about Embracing “less organization” may not fly, but if we are going to proceed with Freedom, (including it’s obligatory doom fringe) we can’t see any other way to do it.” We knew Kimmie Lou would have trouble digesting this…….it was too open ended, Machines like order and processing with measurable results – Freedom bugs the shit out of them.

The traffic ambled by……traffic doesn’t whiz by in Tennessee, finally she said “Okay I’m in, but with one condition.” Ridicu and I crossed eyes briefly (why does it always begin falling apart right from the beginning). Kimmie Lou, you know this is about Freedom right?” “That’s why my one condition is that there be no conditions……..which includes no registration for the .org, no board members, no discernible structure to our group – whether they are drinking buddies, dinner companions or folks we haven’t met yet – everything will be variable.” Mmmmm, when a machine gets it they really get it and besides, Structure really isn’t our thing. Aside from the women, this is what interested us about Nursing, being structured at providing care, while at the same time recognizing your efforts will ultimately fail in the mechanical sense. “Sounds good to us,” we all play around calling each other CEO, Director of Operations, South Pole Division Chief and all sorts of titles for around 10 minutes, laughing the whole time.

We are setting up camp at Big Ridge State Park a few hours later when this truly odd Duck waddles over (he looked more like a short-necked Goose / Turkey, but you could tell he was mostly Duck by the way he waddled). When he introduced himself as Ernest Hemingway 17 7/8 we stopped everything and paid closer attention. “Are you telling us Hemingway fathered waterfowl ? asked Kimmie Lou. “Naw, he was just into difficult women…….he winged one of my ancestors years ago on a duck hunt. Bobby took a shotgun pellet in his left wing but rather than fold up and crash, he kept himself aloft long enough to kamikaze dive right into Ernest’s face, knocking him over. Hemingway liked the fight Bobby displayed so he took him home and Nursed him back to health, they got to be friends and before Bobby flew away he changed his name to Ernest Hemingway 7/8 (since he had already been Bobby for a while and as a Duck, he couldn’t quite see himself past Ernest as number 1)” We talked about Hemingway, Ridicu was particularly interested in his Manic Depression. “Do people crank up into Megalomania when they get Manic?” asked Kimmie Lou. “Sometimes,” replied Ernest, “today people refer to it as Bipolar Disease.” That’s so two-dimensional, wouldn’t it be better to say Multipolar with well defined North and South Poles?”

We had a simple supper laid out, Tuna with Montreal Steak Spice and Lemon Juice in Whole Wheat Pita (we made these tiny little wraps for Ernest). Ernest gobbled and swallowed tilting his head back like a Pelican……..he noticed us watching him – he knew we knew and we knew he knew. “So where are we headed from here?” asked Kimmie Lou. Ernest smiled in that very slight way Ducks smile, he stood tall and puffed out his chest, then in a pretty good Foghorn Leghorn voice he said, “I say, I say BOYS…….I ain’t no Chicken, now if you want Chicken – there’s Kentucky Fried Chicken.”


Megalomaniac Macaroni: 5 Essential Spices

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Christ Striker

20121008-212722.jpg Townsend Tennessee, Hey, nice rack!” “Gosh! Thanks, I think yours is swell too…..umm, how did you get that big scratch on your nose?”

Howdy Myst,                 (Edited Version Available 2020)

The Great Smoky Mountains National Park…..at last, but wait a minute we have just heard a Camp Story that will cross crease everybody’s ass cheeks! Billie Holiday Blue has been telling us of a collision with Christ (Dude carrying a cross) in the Park yesterday. “Yeah, apparently this poor old fella, on some kinda pilgrimage, didn’t have a backcountry permit…..so the Rangers kicked him out.” “Oh sweet Jesus…..you mean a National Park Ranger decided someone reenacting the Messiah’s march needed a backcountry permit?” “That’s what he said, yep” “So this old dude, carrying a cross and walking down the side of the road…….”

The restaurant door opens and here comes these three Camper / Outdoorsy Chicks……beauties, but straightforward about it (no dazzle, no razzle). “Howdy miss, howdy miss and howdy…..” “Mom” said the older sisterish one. “Really?” Head tilts to side “Mom?” The thing about Ridicu – Moms love him, but not this one. Maybe it’s the way we are all so close to Billie Holiday Blue, (people can get prickly if they think you are messing with their Bugs) they just stare at us for a couple a seconds more then, “they’ve been talking to the VW!” We scan the three as the words are spoken – nobody’s lips are moving……ventriloquist ? Telepathy ? Then we notice the youngest lady is holding a pet carrier and inside is the whitest, most fluffy bunny we have ever seen, but it’s the hateful look in his eyes that are his most striking feature.

“Billie Blue, tell Momma true” said the Mom. Billie knows she has been caught “I had to get it off my chest, Kimmie Lou here saw it written all over my face – it isn’t just a scratch or a dent……it’s Stigmata!” The Bunny is clearly annoyed, his expression sours, “hey, I recognize these guys…..they set up by the group area last night!” Momma’s eyes narrow, “are you camping at Cades Cove Campground too?” We talk, it turns out we are camped a few hundred feet from the girls, introductions are made – Momma is Campfire Cuisinator (apparently she only cooks outdoors). The Lone Lunch Ranger has this OCD thing where she has to order last at Restaurants and then get something completely different from everyone else. Spoof is holding the bunny cage, half of the stuff in Spoof’s back-pack is hair styling gear (how did she get the bunny that white and fluffy?). The Lone Lunch Ranger and Spoof refer to the bunny as Bunny D……when we ask what the “D” stands for it is Campfire Cuisinator’s turn “he is Diabolical – it’s not entirely his fault though.”

Everyone looks down for a few seconds, there is a palpable rage coming off this little creature in the cage, but when he speaks, he is matter of fact. “I Shape-Shift between this body, an Alpaca and a Horse” says Diabolical “imagine all the nervous energy of a Horse……when I go Bunny, it gets crammed into a very small package – out comes some pretty ugly emotions.” Diabolical isn’t making apologies, he is just owning up to being horrible at his most compact – he’s kind of refreshing, probably an old soul who’s just having a stretch of delinquency at times. “We have dabbled in a little Megalomania here and there…….putting yourself in charge of everything can be a bit of a pressure cooker too.” “Well that settles it” says Campfire Cuisinator, “I make a Kick Ass Megalomaniac Macaroni – how about dinner at eight?”

We finish running some errands around Townsend, including scoring some Fudge for dessert (the girls tell us not to bother because they are making ice cream tonight – yeah right). Back inside the park we decide to run Cades Loop before getting back to the Campground…..probably the most picturesque afternoon on the whole trip and of course the Samsung Galaxy 3’s battery has faded. Just before the campground we spot Lone Lunch Ranger riding a handsome Black and White Paint Horse (Diabolical?). We pull out and wave them over.

The Horse is named Shadow……he’s the Bunny, just all mellowed out, “hey guys, hi Kimmie Lou.” Lone Lunch Ranger stretches back in the saddle “howdy folks…..say, back there at the diner – you didn’t think Campfire Cuisinator could be my Mom right.” Ridicu opened this can of worms, but as usual, he is silent when things get sticky, “she does look too young to have teenage daughters.” Lone Lunch Ranger dismounts, “Spoof is her daughter, they adopted me five years ago…..I’m an Orphan, I’ve lived in sixteen Foster homes until I was 14.”

Kimmie Lou’s side stand kicks out – she is telling us this Kid needs to talk. “Spoof just turned 15, Campfire is 29…….I met Spoof at a Summer Horse Camp, we hit it off right away.” Shadow’s reins get wrapped around Kimmie Lou’s handlebar, we all sit on a bench 3 feet away, “we are Adoptees too – kinda lucky though……just one Foster home, then Adopted at 8 months.” Ridicu and Lone Lunch Ranger then go on and on about being Adoptees – it was kinda nauseating, finally Kimmie Lou interrupted, “But everybody’s Indivisible……go on tell her……about That Which Is Whole.”

We lay everything out, Lone Lunch Ranger grasps the concept right away, she’s a pretty sharp kid, “how do you guys know that this isn’t just something you have made up to combat your isolation and despair?” Mmmmm, we hadn’t thought of that………”ah….well…..” Kimmie Lou chimes in again, “the Aliens – tell her about the Aliens and the End of the World!” So in another 10 or 15 minutes we have her completely up to speed. Shadow even senses the truth we speak, “TWIW cannot be accessed by a single being or singular theology……..that’s why I hit him.” Everybody looks at Shadow, Kimmie Lou asks “hit who?” Shadow tilts his head, “yesterday, in the car – as Diabolical…….I grabbed the wheel, I hit Christ.”

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20121002-102232.jpg Rafters pulling out just beyond Thunder Rock Campground at the Wildwater Ocoee River Basin Adventure Center. Kimmie Lou, ” Do I have to repeat myself? This is a vacation AWAY from boating…..NO – you can’t go River Rafting!”

Howdy Myst,                 (Edited Version Available 2020)

When you approach Thunder Rock Campground from Highway 74 – you cross the river and the bridge drops you right on the Power Station #3 doorstep…..you almost hit the building, then go around back to the Campground entrance. We set up in the rain but it was good to be camping again (just making it past lunchtime was great). The Ocoee river was low, a neighboring Camper described how the upstream power stations will go offline and let water flow in – raising the water by several feet when it was time for Kayaks and Rafts to run the river.

The next morning we heard a synthesized honk siren for a stretch before they let the water go, “you know…..the one where the nuclear reactor is about to melt down.” We decide to watch the water sports later, after a ride into Ducktown for breakfast and our snitch call.

20121002-211029.jpg Piggly Wiggly – throw away cell phones, but more importantly……pork for breakfast! Kimmie Lou, “Does this supermarket make my ass look fat?”

After days of deliberation, it has been decided…..we have to rat out the IVK. We promised to help Mistress Luscious Lasagna to find some way out of their next assignment, “not putting the Fuzz onto them man!” “Look, I don’t like it anymore than you do…..I mean if it was just a couple of isolated instances where they whacked each other’s family and that was it – then sure we could look the other way, but this network, it’s going to go on killing.” “Why does perpetual killing bother you…..our Industrial Military Complex and Global Financiers don’t seem to have a problem with it?” Kimmie Lou clears her carb, “as a machine I know I’m supposed to stay out of it, but let’s face it, if it has sound logic and is done in an orderly fashion then Machines are Pro – Kill. I hate to agree with Ryder here, but these guys can’t just keep going and going – they’re gonna get caught – so I say let’s spare Mistress Luscious Lasagna’s Karmic Debt.”

An Anonymous call to the FBI Albuquerque field office using a throw away cell phone…..what could go wrong? “Hello, we have information on 6 or 7 dozen murders, huh…..sure I’ll hold.” Somehow Ridicu talked me into letting him make the call, the thing about Ridicu is – Cops like him, don’t ask me why…..it’s weird. “Hello this is Special Agent Anger here, who am I speaking with?” “Oh, hello Agent….a…, could you spell that last name please.” “A-N-G-E-R, as in unpleasant, testy, (the guy went overboard with the thesaurus)……now who am I talking to!” “Very pleased to make your acquaintance Agent Anger, we are into anonymity – even those closest to us – only know us as Why.” “Why what? asks Anger. “Why what, why for, why where, why not – who knows?”

Generally Ridicu gets one of three responses to this kind of rap, 1. Amusement, 2. Strip Search or 3. All Out Police Brutality, but mostly it’s 1…..nutty right?” We hear laughter through the static, only it’s cold (good thing this encounter is over the phone). “Alright Mr Anonymous……I’m listening” “The other day we overheard people talking about a network where arrangements could be made to trim your family tree.” So far so good. “And you say there has been what, 80 or so of these murders?” “Our quick research is in that Ballpark.” We had surfed more than twenty six cases. “Son, there ain’t nuthin you can tell me about the IVK, I don’t already know…..fer instance – I can tell you where their weapons are stockpiled and where the money comes from – mostly Moonshine and Evangelical Racketeering Leagues.” “So then, you are close to shutting things down? We’re pretty sure there will be more hits soon.”

This phone is such a piece of crap, all we hear is more static, but then we realize it’s the agent laughing again – it’s really more two pack a day wheezing, than laughing except for his obvious joy. “Shut em down?” More wheezing. “Hell, all of us here at the Bureau and everyone at the ATF actually think these guys are onto something!” Ridicu doesn’t know what to say – which almost never happens. “Look fellas…..you are the dudes riding Kimmie Lou right?” Wow, they do know everything! “Never mind, just listen – it’s the end of the world – Serial Killers are pretty much just Canaries in the Coal Mines here, at least the IVK are addressing Population Control, hell – most of us have started to wonder why the Social Security Administration doesn’t pay for IVF……ONE EGG AT A TIME, it would save millions!

“Ahhhh…..don’t you guys take an oath to protect the public…..” More wheezing, “Public enemy #1 …..is the public! Ha ha ha ha ha – everybody’s gonna burn for this boys! EVERYBODY! We hang up and beat the phone to bits on the loading dock behind the Piggly Wiggly. “Handling murders regularly probably skews your perspective some…..after a while.” “Maybe…..or maybe it’s really just our perception that’s skewed!” “Whaddaya mean?” “I mean it’s us Blogging about this sick shit man……you ever wonder where this is gonna end, what kind of twisted crap is going to come back and haunt us?” “You did add ENTERTAINMENT into our Blog header right?” I chuckle a bit, then Ridicu guffaws…..by the time we get back to Kimmie Lou we are laughing so hard we are stumbling.

Kimmie Lou is unfazed when we relay our conversation with Agent Anger, “most machines know we should burn less fossil fuels, have cleaner emissions…..we accept that everything will end tragically one day.” “C’mon Kimmie Lou, you get over 50 miles to the gallon – you are pretty green!” German accent. “So delightfully Kawasaki green.” More laughs, “and what’s all this end of the world pissing and moaning shit…..can’t we just write our own fairy tale ending anytime we feel like it?” “Speaking of writing your own fairy tales, I looked closer at that RidicuRyder.org Blog that I can hardly remember writing.”

Kimmie Lou and Ridicu dance for a little while, trying explain good intentions strung together with a smattering of logic and 1/4 baked strudel. “Ya know, call me crazy, but I read that Blog and I think…..sure, maybe we follow this vacation with another nice retreat – to a psych ward where we are extra medicated till we are drooling into our socks!” “I was pretty unhappy with that last lobotomy…..could we get the ice pick over our left eye this time?” Kimmie Lou says “Wouldn’t it be nice if we could keep touring and writing and meeting new friends?” her voice catches a bit “and the Tasmanian has been such a good sport about it.” Ridicu and I almost always calm ourselves when she turns on the waterworks “Okay we can keep the .org, but we have to come up with something else for a Mission Statement……Promote The Acceptance Of Doom……isn’t going to go over well.

We get back to the river and watch some kayakers and a ton of rafters paddle through the rapids. The afternoon passes smoothly. Back in camp we spend the evening with other Campers, have some laughs – tell some long tales (Ridicu has some whoppers in case you haven’t noticed). At breakfast the next morning it is decided: no more doomsday shit, conspiracy theories or bizarre accounts from the tour of any kind. We’re just going to move on down the road with an everyday generic trip blog…..nuthin fancy.

20121003-233821.jpg One last shot at the Riverside before we depart. Kimmie Lou, “check out this guy wit da pink sunglasses – freakin Alien…..just when ya think you’re out, they pull you back in!”

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Cherohala Skyway

20120929-214839.jpg Haw Knob – just below the Mile High point on the Cherohala…..so misty on the morning we rode – the fog almost had us in the higher elevations. Just when we thought we were in the clear……yikes!

Howdy Myst,                (Edited Version Available 2020)

We woke earlier than usual…..doom was wrestling us out of bed. During our wake-up morning pee, “you know how running water can stimulate urination?” Yawning, “yeah.” “Well, our tinkling just made me think of 40 days of rain.” Flush…..”now that cha mention it I did notice this kinda Niagara echo wit da wiz (pretty lazy enunciation first thing). “Waddaya say we check outta the beehive a couple a days early…..ya know – hit da road before it hits us?”

Ridicu’s paranoia could be a pain in the ass at times, but this morning he was dialed in to a terrible, slimy, suffocating weasel…..just about to stuff itself down our throats, “Sure, let’s cut out today – time for a change of scenery anyway.” We had Kimmie Lou packed up in record time, she sensed our urgency, “you boys wanna tell Kimmie Lou what’s got you so spooked?” “A creep show aggressor is always sharpening knives just out of your peripheral vision…..we just got a peek at him.” Kimmie Lou wasn’t used to us strapping everything down so tightly – so roughly “is it that Albino Midget dude?” We started her up “Nah…..not Whitey, whoever it is will either be killing us by lunchtime or kicking back and taking it easy because they succeeded in moving us along.”

We had to stop in at Pop and Nana’s to say goodbye to the crew and hammer back one more Baloney, Egg and Tomato on Texas Toast Extravaganza. “Angle will be sorry she missed you, she’s not in till the afternoon shift today.” “We got her email…..we’ll send her an update and a few pics from the road.” “Alrighty then, just take it extra easy out there today – that fog is pretty thick.”

The Cherohala Skyway runs West of Robbinsville and into Tellico Plains Tennessee, it is normally very scenic as the long sweeping curves round beautiful mountains. Near the mile high point we almost got strangled by the fog – Kimmie Lou’s new Rallye Windshield kit allowed us to duck down behind it and avoid the noose. At Haw Knob we stopped for another pee and met Camilla Copperhead, when she slithered over, our pee stream snapped off like an icicle, we were about to hop back over the stone wall when she said, “relax boys, finish your business – most snakes won’t bite old, fat, balding bikers.” “Really, why not! You know Ridicu’s thing with Death right? He was basically insulted that this snake wasn’t biting us.

Somehow our flow opened back up (involuntary nerves) and we almost showered Camilla. Anyone’s guess as to whether it was me pissing myself – that Ridicu was challenging the snake to bite us or it was Ridicu egging her on by pissing at her. Whatever was going on, she didn’t flinch – just slowly moved up the grass and coiled beside our right leg ” does your urine always sound so ominous?” “Not usually, no…..it’s been a bit of a gloomy morning.” Camilla blinked slowly (weird…..we thought snakes didn’t have eyelids) “got a peek at him huh?” “Yeah, but we’re sensing he’s happy we’re moving.” “Either that or you’ll be dead by lunchtime,” said Camilla snickering.

Kimmie Lou piped up “is that a snake I hear laughing back there?” “Yep, Camilla Copperhead meet Kimmie Lou Rawls/Reed” “Howdy miss” said Camilla. Just then we heard a Harley downshifting, it was coming out of the fog behind us. The Midnight Blue FLH descended off the curve and pulled up right beside Kimmie Lou. “Thought I’d catch you up here with your pants down,” said Angle as she pulled off her Midnight Blue Helmet. We zipped our fly as Angle and Camilla started yakking away in Parseltongue (you know – snake language, right out of Harry Potter). The thing about Aliens is, they share quite a bit of their DNA with Reptiles – kinda like Apes and Humans.

“Well it was nice meeting everyone, enjoy your afternoon” said Camilla as she slithered away. “Happy Trails Camilla” yelled Kimmie Lou (which drowned out our adios). “That snake wouldn’t bite us for some reason.” Angle chuckled, “you old, fat, balding bikers taste right in between rancid beef jerky and chain lube…..We only eat guys like you whenever we lose a bet, otherwise it’s better to vaporize you. “YOU’RE NOT HURTING RIDICURYDER” growled Kimmie Lou. “Easy there sister,”Angle patted Kimmie Lou’s tank a few times, “I’m not here to hurt anybody.”

We climbed aboard Kimmie Lou and she settled down some. Our leg was almost touching Angle’s – she had parked that close “How do you like my Harley?” “Looks pretty spiffy…..hey what is it about you – you’re different from other Aliens?” Angle’s demeanor softened “I’m half Human.” That beaming smile again, her voice was gentler…..smoother. “I’m half Human too!” declared Kimmie Lou. Angle’s laugh was melodious, she laid her hand on Kimmie Lou’s tank. We sat stunned for a stretch…..a Half Human Alien? “So you’re Spock?” Angle laughed some more “except my name is easily pronounceable.”

She started up her Harley, “you never asked me which world I was betting on.” We could barely hear over the Harley’s warble…..and there it was again, almost undetectable – that thrum. “909?” We guessed. “Nope, this one right here – 702.” Then she reached out and patted our shoulder, her hand drifted down to caress Kimmie Lou’s tank, “See ya!” We waved and Kimmie Lou came up on her forks as Angle roared off the pullout and back towards Robbinsville. We looked down at the trip odometer – 10 7/8.

About five miles before Tellico Plains we hang a left towards Bald River Falls, it is a gorgeous ride South for around 6 miles snaking along the Tellico River.

20121001-084653.jpg Kimmie Lou, ” Tennessee sure is pretty, but the Devils triangle makes sort of a squiggle through this state.”

“Are Aliens Indivisibles too?” asks Kimmie Lou. “Yeah, everyone is an indivisible….remember.”

I Am, Like EVERYONE, An Individual Indivisible Presentation Of That Which Is Whole.

Kimmie Lou says, “I think I am starting to get it…..That Which Is Whole, Individuals and Indivisibles – Thirds right?” We climb back on Kimmie Lou, “more or less – yeah, but proportions aren’t as important as balance.” “Individuals and Indivisibles in good balance encounter That Which Is Whole in a good way…..poorly balanced Individuals and Indivisibles encounter That Which Is Whole in a bad way.” “Oh,” said Kimmie Lou, “so this world…..not very well balanced huh?” We start back towards the Cherohala, “so far people are about a million times more likely to advance their individual or distinct group…..most are not even aware that they and everyone else are Indivisible from That Which Is Whole.” “A lot of folks will begin to understand their Indivisibility soon though.” “In a bad way?” asked Kimmie Lou. “bad enough…..the tricky part is – what is just the right amount of bad to get everyone interested in balancing for good.”