Third Annual Bikes & Blues Festival

Good Vibes All Around

No sense in torturing you with tantalizing tidbits about meets you can’t go to because of this corona virus thing, so in an effort to make you feel not as bad, here’s a review of the Bikes & Blues Festival that was held in Tinicum, Pennsylvania (it’s across the river from Frenchtown, New Jersey) along the banks of the Delaware River. It was started by Mike Sheldon who had a love of motorcycles, motorcycle art, and music so he combined them into this event. It lasted for only a few years, but boy was it a good one.
Dropping south from Easton on State Route 611 then onto State Route 32 at Kintnersville or north from Philadelphia on State Route 32 past New Hope, riders were guaranteed non-stop scenic views as the road tried to parallel the river’s meandering path.
This event is just a memory now but looking through the photos reminds me of just how good an idea this was, but no good deed goes unpunished. It was a day of family gatherings with bikes, dogs, picnicking, music and guys doing what they are good at – BS-ing with good vibes all around. As George Harrison once said, “All things must pass”, but just like your friends, you always hate to see the good ones go.

Third Annual Bikes & Blues Festival – Good Vibes All Around

Mike Sheldon held his Third Annual Bikes & Blues Festival celebrating the art of the bike on June 23. 2012 at Tinicum Park in Erwinna, PA (across the Delaware River from Frenchtown, NJ) and it was another harmonious blend of live music and live bikes. Located along Scenic PA Route 32, this free event kept getting better with more bikes, more bands, and more vendors each year. This time, 2700 of his closest friends showed up and took full advantage of a perfect summer day.
There were British and Japanese classics, late-model European exotics destined to become classics, a legally-tagged Aprilia RS250 two-stroker, more BMW R90ss in Daytona Orange than you’ve ever seen in person in one place, some gorgeous, original, BSAs and pre-Hinckley Triumphs, and one absolutely insane double-engined Kawasaki 1500 six-cylinder two-stroke powered by two H2 750 Triples ridden to the event, all judged with the help of the Vintage Japanese Motorcycle Club and the Delaware Valley Norton Riders.

BSAs over-populated the British Classics class proving once again they long-ago nailed the classic motorcycle look. There was a barn find Norton (1920s?) that made you shake your head wondering how it survived the last ninety years completely intact and several American antiques including flathead V-Twin and four-cylinder Indians.
Classic Japanese bikes from the ’70s and ’80s showed up in droves, dusted off and ridden in by their owners. Honda VFRs. 750 Ks, CBXs, and Kaw Z-1s were well-represented. The more exotic stuff included MV Agustas old and new, the adore-mentioned Aprilia, a couple of Bimotas, and Honda and Suzuki turbo bikes. Several custom British-Twin choppers were present too.
The event was originally hosted in Frenchtown, but after the first year (2010) they yanked the welcome mat when they saw the biker crowd wasn’t genteel enough for their liking. It was a blessing in disguise. Moving across the river to the Pennsylvania side and into Tinicum Park allowed the event to grow and in its second year it exploded in attendance. Don’t hold that slight against Frenchtown, though. It’s still a great ride destination with its superb cafes, restaurants, and shops right on the Delaware River.


There’s the Bridge Cafe with its you-won’t-find-these-anywhere-else sandwiches, the boisterous Frenchtown Inn, and the elegant National Hotel with its invitingly dark, and long, oak bar. Deliciously aromatic coffee shops like What’s Brewing, Maria’s Place, and Homestead Coffee can be found by following your nose. There are art galleries with unusual exhibits, gift shops with unique items, and ice cream parlors too. Chocolate? They have that too at Minette’s Candies. All perfect for strolling-off that lunch you just ate or adding to it. If you’re making more than a day of it, there are several places to stay in this historic town too.
So let’s all hope this corona virus thing ends soon.

At least it arrived before the riding season. That should take some of the sting out of it.

Bob

Chuck Morgan Header

Didn’t Bring The Car

Road Rage

By Biker Billy

Road Rage, you hear the term in the news, but like many things in the news it seems like a distant problem.  Liken it to tornados, earthquakes and hurricanes, it can feel like it won’t involve you, it happens somewhere else.  Consider that road rage rarely generates the kind of dramatic photos of devastation that major natural disasters create.  But it can be a personally devastating experience, even if no photographer captures a heartrending image.  The sense or assumption that somehow you won’t be affected is merely an illusion, an illusion that can be shattered as easily as a wine glass dropped on a concrete patio during a summer party.  Like that sudden explosion of shattering glass people nearby will be shocked and pull back.  But in a short time with the debris cleaned up, the incident will be forgotten, lost in the laughter and joy of the party.

The road is like that party, while all in attendance share it, at any sizable party we tend to be dispersed into smaller groups.  Traffic is like that too.  Thousands of vehicles can use the same few miles of road in a day.  But at any given moment only a small number of vehicles are briefly on any quarter mile stretch.  Only a few uninvolved road users witness the explosion of rage, if it is witnessed at all.  So the rage can roar on doing its evil thing, reeking havoc and causing damage mostly unseen and unchecked.  But the victims are real and feel the impact.

In the last few weeks I have heard more tales of road rage than I have heard in a long time.  Only one was from a person who witnessed it happening to someone else.  She and her young child saw what was a relatively minor traffic infraction turn violent.  Without going into detail beyond the space available here, it was the traffic law violator who got violent.

It is interesting that the common denominator in all the stories I heard was a driver who was already breaking traffic laws that exhibited the road rage.  But when you think about it, it does make sense.  Traffic laws for the most part are designed to help people safely share the road.  Most folks who use the roads would rather arrive safely a few minutes late instead of having an accident or getting a speeding ticket.  Then there are the few who for reasons only they know are hell bent to hurry.  Their reasons don’t matter much when they place the lives of others at risk with their lawless driving.  I am going to guess that they have embarked on a slippery slope that could go something like this:

Run a few yellow lights until the next light you run through is already fully red.  OK, after that what more does it take to blow past the yield sign as you barrel on to the highway forcing your way into traffic?  Now you are rolling.  Run that speedo up to 15 or 20 over the posted limit.  Then just before you can blow the doors off the next truck, some clown gets in your lane and insists on passing that truck at the speed limit in front of you.  Now you’re pissed off.  Who is this clown who has the nerve to get in your way?  Before they can barely clear the front of the truck you cut in front of the truck and flip the bird to the clown as you pass them on the right.  Then your blood is boiling and you pass both lanes of traffic on the shoulder since your exit is only a few hundred yards ahead.  Barreling down the ramp you don’t even look as you wheel pass the yield sign.  The car you cut off honks their horn at you.  When you and the horn honker are both stuck at the next light you finally wig out completely.  This is where you get out of your car and run over to that horn honker.  Pull them out of their car so you can give them the beating they deserve for honking at you.

OK, so I strung together the antics from the tales I heard into one road rage afflicted driver, culminating with the one that my friend witnessed the beating of another driver for honking his horn with good reason.  Who knows what drives some folks over the edge in traffic.  I heard long ago that when some folks get behind the wheel their inner personality shows in their driving.  All of these tales came from car drivers about other car drivers.  One thing I know for sure is that on your bike give these loons a wide berth, especially since the Coronavirus lockdowns have offered them free run of the empty roads.

 Quick Salsa

This classic Biker Billy recipe is simple yet supremely delicious.  While I make more complex salsas, this one is so fresh and tasty that a batch never lasts long.  It is great to have it and some chips as a snack, while you are working on your bike.  The fiery fresh favors will warm you and it is a great way to enjoy the fresh tastes of summer.

Column copyright Bill Hufnagle 2020. Recipe reprinted with permission from “Biker Billy Cooks with Fire”, published by Whitehorse Press, Center Conway, New Hampshire copyright Bill Hufnagle 1995, 2004.

It aint Easy Being Cheesy

I love to laugh. A point I made clear to my handsome man years back on a trip to Myrtle Beach Bike Week. Out for late-night beverages, he teased that I had fallen for him because he was such a smooth operator. I said no, explaining that good-looking guys with cheesy pick-up lines are a dime a dozen and I fell for him because he makes me laugh. He instantly turned to a young lady walking by and asked, “Hey! You want some cheese?!” With a giggle, she said no and continued past us in the direction of the bathroom. As we laughed over his cheesy-line failure, a friend came up and asked what was so funny. We told him, and as fate would have it, the same young lady was approaching on her way back to her friends. Not even knowing this, he turned and asked the poor girl if she wanted some cheese. “NO! No I don’t!” With that she was gone, probably with a story about encountering a bunch of dairy-infatuated freaks while at a motorcycle rally. As for us, the tale is still told whenever bad pick-up lines come up in conversation.

These past few months, keeping a sense of humor has served as a huge coping mechanism throughout all the changes in life this global pandemic has caused. Riding itself is important therapy even with a much different start to this spring season. Usually there are dozens of rides and rallies to look forward to, but so many have been cancelled or postponed. I pick up pins or patches as souvenirs from these events, so I had to buy one I saw online to cover what I’ll miss in person. It says “COVID-19 STOLE MY RALLIES, 2020,” and I laughed at this subtle flipping off of the virus. It came from Big Gurl Designs in Tennessee and when I received my order I was touched to find a sweet hand-written thank you note from owner Tonya. As you’re able to, please support these small and local businesses. While the cancellation of some of these gatherings rob us of a good time, they could be much worse financially for the vendors.

Since a lot of the functions hosted and attended in the motorcycle community are designed to benefit a charity or good cause, remember to find ways to support those groups as well. Bigfoot…The Social Distancing Champion’s Solo Motorcycle Ride challenge to benefit food banks provided an amusing concept to deal with adhering to separation guidelines. As well as a funny t-shirt logo featuring Bigfoot riding a motorcycle with a roll of toilet paper in his hand. I know at one point not long ago, I would have been more surprised to see fully stocked TP shelves than Sasquatch himself! In any case, hang in there as virus-related restrictions ease. Hopefully we’ll be able to get together soon to share fun, hugs, laughs, and of course…pick-up line stories!

Stevie

Potholes

Flatspotted

It’s May, and we motorcyclists should be in the saddle and flyin’.

Should be being the operative phrase here.

Instead, my garage doors are down, and six – and maybe eight, depending on how one does the math – perfectly good tires are developing flat spots from sitting unused and unloved on a concrete slab.

If there was ever a time when I needed the meditative calm that riding gives me, this would be that time.

I am a motorcyclist. I ride motorcycles. I write for a publication that is supposed to be about motorcycles and riding them.

Is there such a thing as a Not Motorcycle Magazine?

***

It’s not like I haven’t had some motorcycle things – other than riding – to occupy myself with.

There was the small matter of a tire change for my favorite motorcycle, my R90S, which ended up requiring penetrating oils, blowtorches, sledgehammers, reciprocating saws and a minute quantity of explosives after one of Bavaria’s Best wheel bearing packs decided to fail catastrophically.  Courtesy of a global pandemic, getting motorcycle parts – which I may have been the first American to ever successfully break, apparently – imported from Germany proved to be, well, challenging, and even working with my local dealer required masks, social distancing, payment via hollow tree bag drop and leaving my newly mounted new tire in a secure, undisclosed location.

That little project required the better part of two months, during which, instead of being productively occupied, I was mostly grinding what’s left of my teeth down to little pegs and putting small fingernail grooves in my palms from the clenching of my fists as I gazed over the pile of parts that were formerly a motorcycle that had plunged my normally somewhat organized shop into the depths of utter chaos.

Calm? Meditative? Hardly.

I had acquired a new favorite bit of motorcycling gear. When Finn and I had gone down to the DC International Motorcycle Show, we had received a journalist’s swag bag that contained, amongst a slew of forgettable T-Shirts, a little gizmo called a Buff, which is a nearly infinitely reconfigurable piece of headgear made out of a stretchy tube of material that can serve as a scarf, a balaclava, a dewrag, a facemask, or any combination of those things or all of those things at once.

“I’ll never use that”, I remember thinking when I first saw it.

Finn, predictably, took right to it – almost immediately making it a favorite bit of biker kit – but I wasn’t seeing it.

Which is of course why I am now wearing the thing nearly every day, trying not to fall back into a bad impression of the movie ‘Toy Story’’s Woody, brandishing a pair of finger pistols at everyone I meet, and yelling “Reach for the sky….”

***

The end of May is normally when I’d be strapping on my seat bag, picking out rallies and race meetings, and disappearing over the horizon.

Under the current circumstances, I’ve been lucky if I’ve been able to disappear across the threshold of my own front doorway.

This week, the weathermen had been spreading doom and gloom, predicting five straight days of rain leading into the upcoming holiday weekend.

Which is why, of course, when I wrapped up work today, I was looking outside into bright sunshine and about 63 crisp degrees.

Sweet Doris from Baltimore no doubt saw me at the window looking, and asked if I could go up to the Weis Market over in Brunswick for her to grab some ice cream for our desert.

“You probably wanted a ride, anyway.”

At times like this I am glad for two things. I’m glad that my BMWs all have grocery friendly hard saddlecases, and that 35 years ago I fell in love with a woman that not only accepts my feeble excuses for going for a ride, but can even be counted upon to provide them, when necessary.

It was, by the way, extremely necessary, right about now.

I got my helmet, my jacket and my keys.

***

My K1200LT – with both commuting and travel temporarily off the table – has been spending more than its fair share of time sitting. The K-bike’s fuel pumps and injection system actually hate idleness – in the era of alcohol jacked fuels — even worse than those of my carbureted antiques. That engine needed to be run, and I was in the right frame of mind where the ride I wanted was smooth, serene, powerful and controlled.

The first press of the starter produced only a characteristic belch from the K-engine’s in-tank fuel filter and pump assembly. The second press produced the Brick’s signature turbine-like whine.

Brunswick Maryland is about five and a half miles from Jefferson. I think it only took me about twenty miles to get there.

Instead of putting the Potomac on my left shoulder I cut south into Virginia first, and headed west to Brunswick holding the river on my right.

With the Flying Brick’s motor warmed, and the sun shining brightly at a low angle through the trees in front of me, I got the revs up in the engine’s big sweet spot, and entered my corners late, getting over on the sides of the tires, gassing and cutting hard.

After three apexes, that sunlight lit up my soul, and sent the past weeks’ blackness packing.

If one is looking for anything positive about a global pandemic, it does sure cut down on traffic.

I saw one car heading down Lovettsville Road – an older Prius that I stalked from a respectful distance for a corner or three and then made disappear with a flick of the wrist and that K-Bike shriek from the intakes.

The rest of the way up Lovettsville Road and the sweepers back down the Berlin Pike to the river were just smile after smile – it never ceases to amaze me how precise and sporting a motorcycle something as downright enormous as this K1200 manages to be.

And if that weren’t enough, the top case will hold 64 pints of Ben and Jerry’s.

I’ll admit I bought less than that, though. I’m going to need another one of these ice cream runs way sooner than the time it take to eat 64 pints of The Tonight Dough and Chunky Monkey, and it’s important that my riding jacket still fit when I do.

Greg

The Sounds Of Spring And Summer

The motorcycle sound chart. Motoviolino.

As the sounds go:   Potato potato, pasta pasta, boom boom boom, zeeeeeee, strudel strudel. Vodka, and the newest sound is ever so quiet.

Springtime is a wonderful time. The flowers and the trees start their big journey and the seasonal motorheads are out too.  Cookouts, family gatherings, zippy bikers all begin to appear with regularity.  Food is a big part of the party and motorcyclists are right on top of the spring and summer vegetable sounds and other delights to the ear.  Neighbors and visiting grandmas all have something to say about the special spring sounds. Once the snow has melted away and the last mention of frost has passed the veritable shopping cart from the vegetable garden begins to fill up.  The Ducati rider next door works to snap a few bang bangs out.  The potato potato rider fires up either with a muffler to say hello or not and the Japanese rider is zeeowing away down the street, some say they run on rice (and I believe that is a vegetable).  Potato based alcohol (vodka) for Russian two and four stroke and European bikes, being that vegetables are used in ethanol, which powers many cycles today.

Two strokes, four strokes, rotary, electric and hydrogen are all available now and come in a host of sizes and configurations, each making their own revy and peakie sound. It’s all in the math and ingredients (fertilizer) as to what that “glorious” sound will be.  People bet on who knows the sounds better and there are thousands of videos floating around the internet on the wondrous sounds of those choice noise makers.  In the near future those veggies might become silent growers when electric motorcycles become more popular.  The idea that noise will have to be added for safety to electric vehicles begs the question will it be Elvis Presley or Elvis Costello, ACDC or Mozart or just loud clicks springing forward next to your family car?  The smallest vehicle soon could have the loudest (fastest and safest by some) motor around based on the sound system installed.  Have you seen the video of the fellow dragging a bow over a fiddle recreating the sound of a winding out two stroke?  The adage is that if you can’t make it fast, make it loud. Will the choices be based on your sound system in the future?  Probably not but it’s an interesting choice that we will face in the near future. Electric Motors alongside available belch fire cycles will continue to vie for superior sound emission. The sound of gear changing and running the torque or revs will always live in history though.  In Easy Rider the end run with full throttle and skidding tires at each gear change sets the bar.

Comparisons of the sound types are always around.  Books and magazines have this one and that one is better all the time.  Diehards have to have it one way or the other, vee twin potato potato, straight four scream or nothing, all based on the sound and performance of the engine. The ride is almost secondary.   Potato Potato of a Davidson, Pasta Pasta of a Moto Guzzi, and the Strudel Studel of a BMW always make me think of a great picnic of riders vying for dominance at the farmers market.  I have a bigger pumpkin than you do, listen.  The sweet sound of a 1918 motorcycle loping along, as the next guy dictates it’s got to be a smooth transverse four wound out with megaphones that makes the cycle great.

We all know idle sounds, full throttle sounds, engine braking sounds and even the dreaded clank sounds that are out there.    The distant drone whine of a group of riders, the echo of a muffler free cycle in the city, a police cycle parked all represent some form of sound.  The quiet parked cycles while the riders eat doughnuts, the idle of a bunch of cycles at a light each have a special vibration. The clunk of gears as the light gets ready to change.  The skidding and rumble of all the potatoes and strudels making a salad or dessert along the way making their way to a destination. The sound of arrival is the best sound.

Geoff

No Mask

Prepare For The Ride

The dream of owning a motorcycle became a reality when I walked into the local Harley Dealership and put my deposit on a beautiful 2016 Sportster Forty-Eight. The reality suddenly set in as I threw my leg over the motorcycle seat and maneuvered the bike upright. My 5’3 small-frame struggled to upright the 550lb bike. Utilizing my core strength and leg muscles, I successfully brought the bike upright, only to feel the bike to start to lean in the opposite direction. My core strength quickly activated to upright the bike once again and realization set-in that I will need to continue building strength to keep this bike stable. Thankfully, I have had the advantage of strength from consistent workouts but many riders I have inspired are looking for answers on how to successfully endure a long ride.

As an Exercise Physiologist, I evaluated from head to toe, all components for obstacles that may approach with a long ride. Years ago, I completed two motorcycle safety academies which brought to my attention the key muscles involved in riding. I learned the basics of riding but that was just the surface of riding scenarios. As a woman, I wanted to be confident in picking up my motorcycle if I were ever to drop the bike. A salesman at a Harley dealership suggested that if I were to drop the bike, that there will always be a man around to pick up the bike. Well, I know the reality that a man won’t always be around and if I am riding long trips on my own, now’s the time to understand the physical strength required for the ride.

To begin to understand how to best prepare for the ride (solo or with a group), the rider needs to be aware of the muscles required to balance the bike. The bike should do most of the work for you, if the rider recognizes the bike’s balance point. However, there will be times when the rider can become exhausted, dehydrated or distracted and that is when the core and leg muscles are activated as lifesavers. From the neck to the feet, all muscles are engaged in an action that will initially wipe the rider out following a lengthy ride. Suggestively, riders should start out with small rides until they build up their strength to match their destination. The following are key physical training tips on how to best prepare for the ride of choice.

Dependent on the length of the ride, various amounts of energy are required, which results in the muscles absorbing calories to equal the length of the ride. In addition to calories needed for riding, calories are also being burned as the body prepares against weather elements, e.g. heat, wind or cold. Therefore, at the minimum thirty-minutes of cardio, e.g. walking, jogging, swimming on a daily basis will help keep the body utilizing energy in the most efficient manner. A recommendation of carrying snacks with the bike allows for the rider to resupply the calories lost. The resupply of energy from snacks incorporating a balance of protein, carbs and fat will keep the rider well sustained to complete their ride. To prevent dehydration and disorientation, water, in addition with Gatorade will keep the rider comfortable and focused.

Example of Cardio Achievements on a Treadmill:
Mode Training Heart Rate
(% of MaxHR) Time (Minutes)
Warm-Up 50-60% 5
Example: Treadmill
60-70% 2
70-80% 2
60-70% 2
70-80% 2
60-70% 2
Cool Down 50-60% 5

Strength is key for a long ride. An easy strength routine to follow is to start with the muscle groups from head to feet. Up to three sets of 15 repetitions, every other day of each muscle group will help achieve the goals of riding confidently. To begin the routine, the neck is often a neglected group for training muscles. Full-faced helmets are heavy and the head is required to swivel through twisty turns and switching lanes. Head twists from side to side while wearing a helmet (or to modify without the helmet) will increase range of motion for the safety of the rider. Bicep curls and triceps dips will assist with the arm muscles required to maintain almost a 90-degree angle when riding. Finger and wrist curls with a small dumbbell or tennis ball will assist with continuously maintaining throttle and applying the clutch and front brake.

The core muscles involve the abs and the back muscle groups. The strengthening of these muscles can be achieved through multiple different core exercise, e.g. crunches and bridging. The strength of these muscles are the key to balancing the bike. The leg muscles are the largest muscle groups in the body. The quads and hamstrings can be strengthened by lunges or squats but for a modified version, utilizing resistance bands while seated in a chair can achieve similar results. Finally, the ankles need to be strengthened in order to shift the bike and applying pressure to the rear brake. These muscles can be achieved by toe raises and ankle rotations. Hopefully, the focus of this strength routine will assist future riders with the awareness of preparing for their dream ride. Additionally, the strength routine will provide confidence to solo riders to help maneuver through obstacles that come across their path. So future riders, enjoy the ride and enjoy being a healthier version of yourselves.

Eva Kineva

“Black Cloud Ahead”

Three of us were returning from another one of Waugh’s major bike show events.

Waugh’s Harley Davidson Dealership would often have their show on the same day as our CMA meeting, and our Chapter would often find itself in “catch up ball” mode as we would run a hasty meeting and then leave for Big Don Waugh’s typically huge event.  I led the ride down, we hung out, and I can’t say I really had any particularly notable witnessing opportunities at the show.  Yes, we had our back patches on, and, yes, we were prepared to minister to those in need.  No door seemed to open.

After a few hours, Karl was ready to head back as was I and another CMA’er.  Since I had led the ride down, I was more than happy to let Karl serve as Road Captain for the trip back.  I had chosen a longer and slower route down through some back roads, but Karl wanted to try the more direct route back.

The sky was clear, and it seemed to be another one of those good days for riding.  We had no worries, minimal traffic, and clear “sailing”, until one particular bend in the highway that turned us more northward than westward.

As the tree line cleared out of the way and we could see further ahead, two things were directly before us – a red stoplight and a huge black cloud.  Both were just hanging there.  We stopped, and, while waiting at the light, Karl looked over to me and asked if we’d like to pull over and put on some rain gear.  “Follow me” I said as I quickly took a right at the light to get off of Route 29 and head down a side road to a safe place to park.

Only after executing the right turn did I suddenly realize where I was (my people got lost in a desert some time ago…) and rode about a quarter mile further to a quaint country store.  I figured we could get something to drink, some munchies, and, if necessary, find shelter should that black cloud decide to hit us with a deluge.

As we approached the small parking lot for the store, we saw another bike parked which, given the impending conditions, made sense to me.  God had other plans, of course.

Just after we dismounted, a man exited the store with a case of beer, looked at us, and said something to the effect of “CMA, huh?  If figures that God would find me.”  As he dumped each can of beer into his side saddle (the case wouldn’t fit), he began to open up to us about his current situation.  He had hit a crisis in his marriage, and his “plan” was something to the effect of going home, drinking beer, and trying to figure out what he would do next.

Over the next several minutes – fifteen at most – we encouraged him, prayed with him, and suggested that he go to his pastor to seek help and counseling.  He thanked the three of us, said that we made sense, and acknowledged that God must have sent us to intercept him.

We had our rain gear on and were content – no sodas and no munchies.  We decided to head out and power through that black cloud, if necessary.  There was no wind, maybe a slight breeze at best.  As we left the back road and entered on to Route 29, we cleared the trees and looked north.  No cloud.  No cloud in any direction.  No cloud near any horizon.  No cloud at all.

God had given us a stop light backed up with something more substantial than the force of human law.  God had us take a “right on red” and go where He wanted us so that we might minister to one of His own.

“In all thy ways acknowledge Him… and he shall direct thy paths.”  Proverbs 3:6

IHS,  Jack