Today @Rich_Strauss@ChrisMunro@Paulo and I did an impromptu back roads/dirt ride up to Buckhorn, and stopped to have an iced tea at the Buckhorn Tavern as our northern terminus. A bit windy, but what an oddball beautiful and warm December day in Colorado. Chris and I both got to moan about being overdressed when we arrived at the tavern.
Teas down and sun heading down, we got back on the bikes to roll toward home. But we couldn’t leave. Every time Chris went to put his 701 into first gear, the engine would die. I immediately suspected the well known KTM kickstand sensor failure feature. For a minute, we though the magnet on his kickstand had fallen off, but I vaguely remembered that the sensor was inside a tab on the kickstand, so I confirmed this on the internet. Knowledge in hand, we went back into the tavern in search of a magnet so that we could test if it was the sensor or something else. I asked the barkeep if he had a magnet, and he pulled a Grateful Dead ‘Steal Your Face’ refrigerator magnet off their fridge, and said, “bro, you can just take it.” We also asked him for some tape, and he obliged. Tip these folks well the next time you stop in.
We got back to Chris’s bike, I got on the ground and placed the Grateful Dead magnet against the kickstand sensor. Chris fired the bike up, put it in gear, and BAM. In business.
Being an old punk with a decades old distaste for all things Grateful Dead, I happily tore a chunk of the magnet off (thereby destroying it), affixed the Dead chunk to the kickstand sensor with crappy aluminum foil tape while we were all laughing hard about this being the most Boulder, Colorado motorcycle fix in history. Chris reinforced my work with a bit more tape, and we were off.
Saved by a fucking Grateful Dead magnet.
Even the smallest ride can be an adventure. Can’t wait for the next one.
Wow. I’ve said this before but I’ll say it again. I feel so truly fortunate to have found this group. This is the first time in my many years in Boulder that I’ve heard anyone else say they don’t like The Dead. Don’t get me started on that band (said with all due and genuine respect for Deadheads).
Eating magic mushrooms ain’t for me
Or getting all screwed up on LSD
Or eating bean sprouts all day long
And smoking pot out of a bong
Wearing flowers in my hair
And having dirty underwear
I don’t want to be a granola-head
Whacked-out hippies’ brains are scrambled eggs
Ugly chicks with very hairy legs
I think I’d rather be at home
Listening to the Ramones
Or hanging out and getting drunk
With a bunch of useless punks
Or can’t you see
It’s not for me
Or eating bean sprouts all day long
And smoking pot out of a bong
Wearing flowers in my hair
And having dirty underwear
Or can’t you see
It’s not for me
Or eating bean sprouts all day long
And smoking pot out of a bong
Or can’t you see
It’s not for me
Or eating bean sprouts all day long
And smoking pot out of a bong
I grew up in the New Orleans, with zero knowledge of the band. Then I went to college at Emory, in Atlanta, which has a very large population of kids from the Northeast. NY, NJ, etc. My high school was an all boys Jesuit school, uniforms, so I also had no real exposure to rich kids, you could say. At least, you couldn’t tell much about someone’s wealth when everyone is wearing the same khakis. Anyway, so Emory was my first exposure sitting next to a girl from NY with literally my college tuition on her hands and wrists.
Then the Dead come to down and all of the rich kids dressed like dirty hippies for a week…very confusing.
After college I’m bartending at a bar in Atlanta that was right across the street from a MARTA train station. Dead come into town = dirty hippies can ride up from downtown for a $1, sit at my bar, eat free saltine crackers, order food, and either not tip or try to dash out without paying. One particularly stupid one swiped our tip jar off the bar, and ran / stumbled to the back exit. Launched myself over the bar, caught him at the door…he did not have a good night.
Last one: USMC boot camp at Parris Island, summer of 1995. As you can imagine, you’re in total blackout from the rest of the world for 13wks. Graduated and found out that Jerry Garcia had passed…
Yeah, when the Dead were in town, had fun going to Atkins Park in Virginia Highlands, late at night, and purposely confusing the dirty hippies tripping on acid.
‘78… my sister (18) and I (16) were very punk. Her boyfriend took us the Dead show at Red Rocks. We lived in DC and Boulder …my dad was an NCAR guy from DC. So, a lot of back and forth. We got in a little trouble for sneaking out. DC was awesome for punk.
It was fun! I’ve been to a few pseudo Dead shows since …Dark Star, Dead n Co but the best was Billy and the Kids with Kreutzmann and Billy Strings at Red Rocks too! Love Billy Strings!!
The Dead “thing” is way overhyped IMO. It’s fun. Would rather go to an Allman Brothers show.
I grew up a BMX/skate punk so the Dead were never my thing. I got to experience several Dead shows though. I went to Kent State University, so with the “Four dead in Ohio” history and all, there were a lot of Deadheads. Several of my crew were weekend acid dropping mushroom munchers. I wasn’t. Whenever the Dead came to town they would buy me a ticket ‘cause they could trip their balls off and then I would wrangle them up and get them home safe…and I had a van. Those were some memorable nights. Glad you guys got out today!
Good save and a good story. I have a dongle in my tool kit for this. Broke the side stand switch on my 2006 KTM 950 the first week I had it. That one could at least be spliced together.
Growing up a punk kid in the Bay Area, I went to several Dead shows because they had girls and other stuff. Eventually I married a full-on dead head.
I remembered that I have a photo from the day mine broke. Solo on Pennsylvania Gulch. Back then that road was still gnarly but didn’t have the giant ruts it has now. I wouldn’t take a big bike on it these days but it used to be a regular part of my rides.
