It’s Not You, It’s Me

This happens every few years; trust me. It’s a fine-tuned piece of clockwork that gets out of sync, needing an equally fine-tuned piece of Norse, hammer technology to carefully bring it back into precise alignment. Even gentlemen in tailored day suits and monocles cannot predict it, nor can they prevent it. Despite the best scientists, regardless of the bones and tea leaves used to foretell its coming, the shit happens. You may know not “when” but you can plan bowel movements and bets around the certainty.

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018

The Great Motorcycle Hunt of 2018 Spivey is now in the loving hands of my daughter. He was a faithful steed and I miss him. But I am very happy he is where he is.   Searching... This Spring I will get my next bike. Since I have a habit of researching the...

The story behind Lure…

There's usually some kind of story behind a story and people seem to be curious about those "behind the scenes" moments that give life to these things. I wrote the first draft of Lure a long, long time ago. It was the mid-90's and I was still going to University. I...

Mr. Rain and The Weathermen, FREE until 1.5.13

It's free on Amazon until the 5th. Go get it, read it, review it! Have a safe New Year: Mr. Rain and the Weathermen by CL Turner http://goo.gl/SR97S Tags: free promotion...

Engine Guards and Gravel Practice for your Motorcycle

Sad fact…I’d ordered Engine Guards and they were sitting in my garage, still in the damn box! Laziness and procrastination had led me to put off their installation. I paid for that! Literally!

New Writing Draft – The Diluvian Mountains

The Diluvian Mountains were a bitter set of black and grey teeth jutting from a flood plain that was sparsely populated. Steep, tall, prone to releasing torrents of glacial flood waters at a whim, not many cities had seen a desire to set roots close by, so there were few who called the place home. The residents who did were seasonal farmers and hunters who would risk the plains during warm weather, growing fast, high-yield crops they could harvest quickly for market then return to the higher valleys to wait out winters, hunting, until the next cycle began.

The recent past…in writing

Forge

Fear and Hate.
Hate alone is a cowardly thing. Fear is a bit more active, it leads to simple, bad decisions that don’t simply impact the coward; the decisions impact everyone. Combine fear with hate, and a forge is made.

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How Hot is Your Bolt?

How Hot is Your Yamaha Bolt VX950?

I got a Flir One a little while ago…for, Reasons (they have the iOS version too). As soon as it arrived I got the idea of taking a video of my Yamaha Bolt VX950

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Capture Them

My parents are on a timer, and they’ve both led amazing lives…especially my mom. This week she’s in the hospital and it kind of struck me that, while she’s pretty damn indestructible, she isn’t immortal.

It’s time to get those stories of theirs down, to capture them and archive them, so they’re not lost in the rain.

Riding white water through tunnels in a mountain.

Standing on the beach, watching the cloud rise as the Bikini Atoll was incinerated by a Hydrogen Bomb.

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A Long Time Gone

I’ve been a long time gone…

Not slacking or slouching the time away. The hours spent changing things were well spent. Time passed on planes, travelling to distant lands; time spent building a new, solo company–doing my thing, my way. I’ve been constructing a foundation for “what I want”, but not always able to do the “want” vs. the “need”.

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Douche Hat

I need a douche hat…and a shitty car with a soup-can muffler.

While you’re giving me gifts, why not some mid ’90’s economy sedan with plenty of space under the hood for superchargers, turbos, cold air intakes and enough trunk space to stuff a few bass cannons so I might make my brain hemorrhage.

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Deep Thought

So, a guy walks into a bar and says to the bartender,

“The Universe wants a drink.”

The bartender looks at the man for a moment and asks,

“Okay. What does the Universe want?”

The man leans forward,

“You already know.”

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New Writing Draft – The Diluvian Mountains

The Diluvian Mountains were a bitter set of black and grey teeth jutting from a flood plain that was sparsely populated. Steep, tall, prone to releasing torrents of glacial flood waters at a whim, not many cities had seen a desire to set roots close by, so there were few who called the place home. The residents who did were seasonal farmers and hunters who would risk the plains during warm weather, growing fast, high-yield crops they could harvest quickly for market then return to the higher valleys to wait out winters, hunting, until the next cycle began.

read more

Videos…no writing here

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