“Panhead” Rod Hatter

Rod Hatter
Road Scribes Of America (TM) Charter Guardian

AKA Panhead Rod

Flathead’s Torque

written by Rod Hatter ©
April 11, 2012

Flathead torque will pull you through…
just ’bout anything…
Take your soul to solemn places…
as their cams do sing…

Solo bikes and servicars…
utilities so cool…
Fortyfive or eighty inches…
Vintage true old school…

Cast iron and aluminum…
Solid to the core…
carries riders to great places…
Deliveries and more…

Flathead torque will pull you through…
just ’bout anything…
Take your soul to solemn places…
as their cams do sing…

Star hubs spinning in spoked wheels…
blur as they go ’round…
Chain oil marking where they’ve been…
Pools upon the ground…

Linkerts taking in the fuel…
Exhausting as it flys…
Fins that long for air to breathe…
reaching for the sky…

Flathead torque will pull you through…
just ’bout anything…
Take your soul to solemn places…
as their cams do sing…

From deserts back in Africa…
to boardwalks on the beach…
Flatheads, they were counted on…
Their function seldom breached…

From Meter Maids to Ice Cream Men…
They served so many ways…
There are some you still can find…
working hard these days…

Flathead torque will pull you through…
just ’bout anything…
Take your soul to solemn places…
as their cams do sing…

 

Savored History
written by Rod Hatter ©

Flatheads, Knuckles, Pans or Shovels…
Great machines…not for novels.
Real Iron rides from the U.S.A.,
consuming passions…everyday.
Some leak oil…some have rust…
Still, they run…through winds we lust…
Some are choppers…some are stock.
When together…quite the flock.
They hold memories…They have class.
Look real hard…as next ones pass.
Many start by kicking over,
yet to us, they’re still called “Lover”.
They are our’s…They make us proud,
of our rides…that are so loud.
Some with noise…some in style…
Most are riden…many miles…
We share knowledge…how to fix.
Many of us know some tricks.
Parts…we never throw away…
Save them for a rainy day…
This is why they’re still around…
Savored history…Roads they pound.
When a friend is down and out…
All kick in as partners stout.
Share a brew, share some joy…
Just like kids who love their toys.
Fellowship, and honor’s pride…
We are thankful…They still ride.

NOTE* Riden is spelled right…
It became ridden sometime after 1959,
but I went to the old school…

Not everything I write has to do with riding…Sometimes things in life are worth sharing for whatever reason…Hope you enjoy this one…

 

Life Shared Poetically

written by Rod Hatter ©
April 21, 2012

I just read a poem…
that got to my heart.
The writer had borrowed…
my emotion’s parts.

I read my own fate…
I felt resolution…
This poem made me think…
about life’s solutions…

I now realize…
my life’s just a dream…
Through this writer’s eyes…
stuff’s not so extreme.

The poem gave me hope…
It restored my faith…
Now feel I can cope…
and find better ways…

So, I thank you, Poet,
the pain that you share…
To all who do know it…
Your writing shows care…

Feel free to share thoughts…
more times, and again…
The demons your words fought…
May God bless your pen…

I hope that my writing,
and telling you this,
will show my ambition…
to share in this bliss…

Will give you direction…
to keep the ink flowing…
writing down thoughts,
as through life we’re going…

Shedding some light…
to help show the way,
that each of us make it…
through our darkest days…

Knowing that somewhere…
those troubles will fade…
That positive energy’s
path is now laid…

 

Insanity of the Night

written by Rod Hatter ©
May 2, 2012
As I pulled into my driveway I thought…What a crazy world we live in.
How did it ever get this way? Where in the Hell did common sense go?
To start with… the day got off to an awful beginning. Ran out of coffee,
out of money, Utility shut off notice in the mail, and then I found out I’m
layed off from work. ARR! It’s enough to make a man go insane, but as
always I said “Screw it”…and decided to go out for a ride. The farther
away from town I got, the slower things seemed to be, and as I took in
all of the great things the ride offered, I started to relax and settle down.
Okay, time for reality…Remember I said I was broke? As the gas turned
to fumes, I knew I could only go so far, so I found I had to turn around
and head back to the funny farm. Besides, it was getting dark anyway.
As I rode into town passing underneath the city street lights, the
shadows seemed to be playing gophers. As each shadow emerged
ever so slightly in front of me, it was quickly diminished by the next light.
It’s as though they popped their head out only to be knocked back into
the hole…Then I saw my reflection in the store front windows. The
glimmering city lights dancing off the chrome on my bike made a
surrealistic image. It made me think of the movie “Ghost Rider”. Funny
how the eyes can play tricks on the mind…There were some flashing
red and blue lights alternating ahead, as a lost soul weaved and wobbled
while trying to walk a straight line. The police officer standing nearby
was shaking his head while reaching for his handcuffs. Looked like
somebody’s gotten a night’s stay at the city’s finest jail… As I passed
our local high society concert hall, the end of a upscale music concert
was ending. The crowd was leaving in their suits and gowns, with a
few of them seeming to look down their noses at me as I rode by. I was
too consumed in the memories of a great Led Zeppelin and Jethro Tull
concert I went to back in “69” to let any attitude get to me. I still do
remember both bands getting together for the last session and jamming
together like they were at a party. Bands don’t seem to do those kinda
things anymore…Well, to get back to the ride…On one of the street
corners a group of ladies of the night smiled and waved as I went by, then
on the very next corner was a seemingly crazy individual yelling “Jesus
saves” while waving some collection jar in hopes for a buck…
Suddenly, some jerk starts to pull away from the curb in a hurry not very
far in front of me. I instantly got into action, grabbing the clutch, while
yanking the throttle, making my bike bellow a roar that let the jerk know
I was in the lane. Not only did that stop him, it also set off a couple of car
alarms that were set just a little too sensitively. I couldn’t help but notice
he was still in the same spot when I looked back in my mirror a ways
ahead of where it happened… It was getting late, and as I passed by my
favorite biker bar, I noticed they had a slow night with only a few
customers. I did see that Rip must’ve done it again, as one of his
brothers and the barmaid were pushing his bike into the bar for the
night. Maybe someday Rip will figure out he doesn’t have to live up to
his namesake…Off in the distance I hear a siren, and as it got closer I
wondered if I was gonna get pulled over? Had me setting off those car
alarms caused someone to call ina noise complaint? It was getting
louder, and as it was coming around the bend just behind me, I pulled
over. Nah, it was just an ambulance rushing somebody to the hospital.
I pulled back out and started down the road home, when just a half mile
further down the road I do have a cop get on my tail and start running
my plates. Not much to worry about there, since I am insured, and try
to stay out of trouble. At the very next traffic signal some idiot talking
on his cell phone runs a red light right in front of us both, and there
went some more of those flashing red and blue lights. I pull over so he
can do the chase, and actually hoped he catches that fool… Then finally
getting home, I tucked the bike away and headed inside…Now, thinking
back on the nights events, I guess it was just another day of our crazy
world’s insanity…Awe, not to worry…Tomorrow’s another day…
Thank you Lord for giving me a moment of escape…
P.S….Anyway you could magically make some coffee arrive by the morning?

 

Cap’n Biker
written by Rod Hatter ©
Mar.30, 2012

While steering the helm in a gaze…
a shout from the crow’s nest …”Avast”.
The pirates glare up in a craze…
Their sails have lost wind in the mast…

They drift ashore helpless like kittens…
…The ship with it’s crew now afloat…
Their booty now nar of a pittance…
an’ hope aloft…not on the boat…

“ARR! Where be me scoot?”…
The Cap’n yells out to his crew…
“A last…We ain’t pilferred no loot…
So I’ve better thangs to do…”

“I’ll sit me bum down in the saddle,
an’ ponder ’bout where to go next?
The rest of yous might need to paddle…
‘less ye be swabbin’ these decks…”

“So listen up…all of ye scallywags…
Pray that I find us some bounty…
‘Cause if I can’t track down some snags…
I’ll keep ridin’ to the next county…”

“Your Cap’n may just commit mutiny,
’cause me be might tired of the life…
A landlubber I might just now be,
an’ ride off an’ fetch me a wife…”

“Then all of yous pilgrims can squabble…
’bout who’ll be takin’ me place…
While yous drink yer rum an’ wobble,
an’ carry on such a disgrace…”

“I’ll miss me maiden…The Oceans…
But I won’t miss any of yous…
This ridin’ has given me notions…
So I’ll hit the roads for a cruise…”

“By Golly…Me can’t forget Parrot…
She has been a mighty fine bird.
She likes eatin’ nuttin’ but carrots,
while repeatin’ all you’s spoken words…”

“I’ll let her perch onto me handles…
Her beak up aloft in the wind…
As we both wear smiles…Flyin’ fer miles…
Knowing that both of us sinned…”

; )

 

She’s a Chopper

written by Rod Hatter ©
Mar. 27, 2012

She’s a chopper, and she’s long and lean…
built for comfort with her lines so clean.
She’s a chopper, and she likes to run…
Grab a hold of her and have some fun.
She’s a chopper…

Well, her legs…they are long and slender…
and she’s lookin’ Oh so sleek…
She shows off…what’s cradled inside,
hoping that you’ll make her peak.

Those big twins…they are really perkin’…
way down low beneath her neck….
You just watch…how you handle them…
or you just might become a wreck…

She’s a chopper, and she’s long and lean…
built for comfort with her lines so clean.
She’s a chopper, and she likes to run…
Grab a hold of her and have some fun.
She’s a chopper…

Yeah her belt…it’s fastened really tight,
as it goes around and around…
Taking you…to some very wild places…
Where your heart may just get bound…

As her hips move, and her Soft tail swings…
She’s saying that the road is rough…
She can take it, ’cause she’s built to ride…
May be smooth, but also tough.

She’s a chopper, and she’s long and lean…
built for comfort with her lines so clean.
She’s a chopper, and she likes to run…
Grab a hold of her and have some fun.
She’s a chopper…

How she loves…to beat the pavement down…
pounding on it as she rolls…
She will take…all that it has to give…
Then she’ll take another stroll..

She is crazy, and she really screams,
anytime you wanna play…
Yeah, she’ll jerk you…if you grab enough…
She may even throw you away…

She’s a chopper, and she’s long and lean…
built for comfort with her lines so clean.
She’s a chopper, and she likes to run…
Grab a hold of her and have some fun.
She’s a chopper…

Oh my, my…She’s a lady of style,
who does demand true respect…
and she is…so very high maintenance,
on that…you just can’t neglect…
….
So you better…treat her nice and tender…
Give her all that she needs…
She’ll respond…reaching back at you…
with her handles yearning for speed…

She’s a chopper, and she’s long and lean…
built for comfort with her lines so clean.
She’s a chopper, and she likes to run…
Grab a hold of her and have some fun.
She’s a chopper…

 

Ride’s Feast
written by Rod Hatter ©
Jan. 4th, 2012

Simple pleasures I enjoy…keep my soul well fed.
Sights and sounds…tastes and flavors…filling up my head.
Joys I find…while going through…all my daily tasks.
Sip them…tasting those escapes…like they’re from a flask.
They remind me…more to life…than just paying bills.
Give me fuel…and direction…reinforcing will.
So when chaos gets to me…Hunger’s at my side…
I can dine on better things…go out for a ride.
Consume the wonders of the road…Nature’s scenes and more…
Holding onto energy…as the belly roars…
Crank the heat up…wheels now spin…dreams become so crisp,
while the wind tries cooling down…with it’s gentle wisps…
As the lanes beneath me heat…from the bike’s great force…
Let them simmer…stretch it out____like the best main course.
Nature’s put much on the plate…mountains, streams and desert…
Appetite is feeling nourished…ingredients well measured.
Now I’m stuffed…satisfied…savored this ride’s stew…
Guess it’s time to head on home…pop open a brew…

 

Biker Greeting

3-10-2011

Musicians, writers, poets too…
…even some that do tattoo…
They show that in biker culture
…many share in art that’s true.

If you ask them what they think,
…bikers just wont lie.
They will answer honestly,
…even if you cry.

Custom bike shows and parades.
…Chrome or paint that glitter…
many biker do enjoy,
…makes the eyes a flitter.

On the Salt Flats…at the drags,
…people do pay heed.
These are places that let bikers,
…share a need for speed.

Music, vendors and those games,
…at the biker runs,
show that there are many bikers,
…who know to have fun.

Candid bluntness, lack of drama,
…coming from a biker…
Lets you know straight up front,
…what may be the striker.

Someone ill, friend in need,
…bikers show they care.
Gathering themselves together,
…they’ll raise funds to share.

“Then came Bronson”, “Easyrider”
…David mann, and more…
They are showing many bikers,
…not in cage, for sure…

People say “They’re only bikers.”
…”They don’t really matter.”
They are people on the roads,
…who’s lives may then be shattered…

So next time you see a biker
…riding on the street…
Son or Daughter, Mom or Dad…
…They’re someone you should greet…

Rod Hatter ©

 

Drama’s behind
________________
written by Rod Hatter ©
Jan. 21, 2012

My soul took a loss, around that last bend…
Yet I’ll keep on ridin’…until my mind’s end.
Keep scribin’ ink, telling my tales…
The true remedy… for why my soul ails…
Leave all the dramas…in my rear view.
Look straight ahead…share something new.
Through fellowship, should never lose…
Nobody ever should suffer the blues.
Rekindle lessons from the old school…
Positive energy…now my life’s fuel.
As that fuel burns, layin’ down lines…
Poetry, stories, all wrote so fine.
Knowing those lines…they say what’s real.
Telling the whole world just how I feel…

 

Weekend Miles
______________
written by Rod Hatter ©
July 25, 2012

I may be a weekend warrior.
That much might be true.
Butt, I’ve riden lots more miles…
than do most of you.
Have to work…earn some bread,
just to have a life.
Also to buy fuel and oil
for both me and wife.
Just last weekend we did ride…
nearly half a thou….
Rode to central part of state,
so charity could endow.
Had a blast, got to party.
Fellow friends who ride.
Even got to do a bike game.
Smiles we can’t hide.
Event wild, had great bands,
vendors, and great food.
Real great riders, all well mannered,
for causes oh so good.
Put on by real special folks,
raising funds to give.
Caring for community,
and low income kids.
Now it’s Monday, back to work.
Get back in the grind.
So when weekend comes,
pleasures I can find.
Yes, I am a weekend warrior.
We number quite a few,
and we spend our weekends off.
Doing what we do.
Riding, partying, laughing, sharing.
How it’s meant to be.
Living life and being free…
Thank God for liberty…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

We just recently lost a fellow rider because someone pulled out of their driveway in front of him, putting him in the hospital in a coma that he never awoke from. My thoughts and prays to his loved ones. I too had someone turn left in front of me back in 2001 but was lucky enough to recover within a few weeks. This poem tells of stuff that really happens in life on the highway. I sincerely hope it makes us all more aware.

Metal Mare’s Hard Lesson
______________________
written by Rod Hatter ©
July 25, 2012

Out this day to find escape…
Chores have got me down.
Get out on my metal mare,
chromed and shiny brown.
Rolling through wild nature,
sights and smells so grand.
Somehow makes me feel like I am…
part of this here land.

Ride is soothing…filling voids.
Settles me with ease.
Finding peace…finally mellow.
Soul has found release.
Had great day, feeling better…
Time to head on home…
Rolling down this two lane highway,
homeward bound I roam.

Suddenly there is something…
blocking out my view.
Someone pulling out of driveway…
Does not have a clue.
Cannot stop, don’t have time.
Have to lay her down.
Me and my sweet metal mare…
pounded to the ground.
Then the crash…
………………now there’s darkness,
and I’ve lost my senses.
All because some rushing fool
didn’t give no glances.

As I waken…things seem fuzzy…
Somewhat of a blur.
How’d I get here?…Can’t remember…
Nothing seems for sure.
All I know for certain,
can’t blame metal mare.
Just wrong place, at wrong time…
with no luck to spare.

Now I speak for all of us…
who now share our roads.
Let’s slow down, take it easy…
Lighten up our loads.
One thing there’ll be less of…
That is guilt or pain.
Enjoying life just as it’s given…
Savoring all our gains.
We may find that life gets better,
…if we take our time.
Real enchanted poetry…
Harmony in rhyme…

© Rod Hatter -aka:Panhead Rod – Poet

 

Stormin’ Thunder
written by Rod Hatter ©
Feb 28, 2011

The rain is sideways, wind’s a blowin’…
There ain’t no place that I am goin’…
Sittin’ here, I sadly gaze,
out into the violent haze…
I dream of days that let me ride,
to fill this need I have inside…
I vision days when skies are clear,
days when thunder’s what I hear.
Not the thunder from the clouds…
Thunder from my pipes, so loud…

 

Stretching

Feet down at the crossroad…
…as mind idles in reserve…
Pondering upon direction…
Left, right or straight ahead…
…all away from where I’ve been.
Destination unimportant…
Listening to the highway calling me…
My inner desire longing…
Wishing for the freedom to roll…
Reality dwelling in mind’s corners.
Reminding me of duty and burdens,
both endured… so riding is possible.
Left foot rising to push shifter down,
as right hand twists the throttle,
other foot up, as clutch is released.
Ride’s engine humming a song…
continuing forward in rhythm…
In time with the beat…
My soul gets entwined…
After all…
It’s early… and the day is long…
To myself… I think…
“Get it, while I can…”
Every mile soothes…
The wind catches my cheeks…
stretching a smile…
as long as the road ahead.


© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012
3/2/17

 

Playing

Down with the toe… Out with the lever…
Twist of the wrist… Burdens I sever.
Impulsive rotations… revolves beneath me.
Taking me places… Setting me free…
As rubber massages the road to my soul…
I take in the scenery… feeling so full.
Engulfed in the rumble of my big twin’s thunder…
It’s might and it’s power still leaves me in wonder.
The frame of my ride does carry me strong,
as we roll through life… on highways, so long…
When life throws a bender… lean into it…
Subtle and balanced… to make a good fit.
When everything’s straight… running for miles,
relax and enjoy it… with wind in the smile…
Escaping like this gives me the will,
to battle my demons… worries are nil.
The Sun is declining… Heading to rest,
as I’m heading home… off to the West.
It’s been a great ride… A wonderful Day…
I sure had to take it, and get out and play.
Playing with life rolling my way…

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012
May 2015

 

Biker’s Way

It don’t matter what you ride,
long as you feel free…
Free to head on down the road,
choose your destiny…
If you’re serious… you don’t ride,
…merely to impress.
You know down inside your soul,
riding relieves stress.
You enjoy the power.
You enjoy the zip…
You enjoy twisting throttle,
with a mighty grip.
You do like companionship,
with others who do ride.
You will share the roads with them,
riding staggered aside. . .
Sometimes for a purpose.
Sometimes just for fun.
Whether you’re a little group,
or a major run…
Actions make a difference,
each and every day…
Enjoying life while solving problems,
that’s the biker’s way.

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Gone…but not forgotten

As time goes by…
our mentors die…
Musicians, Artists, Poets…

Those who tried,
to help life by…
Sharing, while they go it…

For them we sigh…
and say goodbye…
Hold onto memories strong.

It was their song,
we sang along…
that helped us last this long…

So thank them for their work,
and keep their offerings…
That fill your ears,
your eyes,
your heart…
and make them carry on…

© RSH 11/13/2016

 

Jingling Bells

Jingling bell…
‘neath pegs, hail…
Christmas time is near…
Oh, what joy it is to ride…
bringing Season’s cheer….

Riders on the road…
on sleds made out of steel…
Oh, what joy it is to roll…
sharing feelings real…
… …
Oh, jingling bells…
Riders sail,
bringing toys from run…
Seeing smiles on children’s faces,
makes this run so fun…

Caring just because…
that’s the biker’s way…
Knowing what they do today…
will make a child’s day.

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Rider’s Eulogy

Gashes from crashes…
Dust to rust…
Look away quick,
or judge if you must.

This soul that now leaves us…
has lived a life full…
The way this one lived…
has taken it’s toll.

Rode on two wheels…
and lived with the heart.
Showed there was care…
The family was part.

A kind thoughtful soul…
to all those he knew…
Had earned great respect…
and gave it when due.

To family and friends,
had sparkle and class.
If here now with us,
would help tip a glass…

So here’s to a soul…
who was gentle and kind…
A being with true heart,
that is so hard to find.

May memories ride with us…
with peace on our minds.

Amen !

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Ooze

Workin’ man’s blues.
Turning those screws,
I’ve paid my dues.
Pick up some brews.
Kick off my shoes.
Turn on the news.
Not given to ruse.
Don’t have no clues.
Sticky like glues.
blowin’ a fuse.
Courtin’ my woos.
Cooking up stews.
Sippin’ on booze.
Pool with the cues.
Fish in the sloughs.
Taking a cruise,
in Nature’s pews,
as the dove coos.
Rhody’s and yews.
Take in the views…
Wonderful hues.
Drop from the crews.
Path’s mine to choose.
Nothing to lose.
life’s been a muse,
for me to use…
Think that I’ll just make it ooze…

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Mothers are Special
________________
written by Rod Hatter ©
May 13, 2012
Mother’s Day…

Mothers are special…They share their love.
Some in their passing…become angels above.
While they are with us, nourishment’s gave,
even when slapping you…saying “Behave”…
Teaching you manners, giving their all…
taking you shopping down at the mall.
Giving you guidance, sharing respect…
Really great Mothers…never neglect.
When you are clumsy…they mop up spills…
When you are hurt…they try to heal…
When you are down…they give you hope…
When life’s a struggle, they help you cope.
They fight through life, same as us all…
Yet they still smile, and help when you fall.
….
My Mother has passed, I still feel her love…
I know that she’s up there…Grace from above.
Keeping me straight, Helping me live…
Positive energy that she did give…

Thank you Mom,
With love, your Son…

 

The Other Side of the Line

Two fingers down to all who ride…
on the other side of the line.
Keep both wheels sound…rollin’ smooth…
You goin’ your way, me goin’ mine…
All of us riding…going directions…
given to us by fate…
Never too early to change them,
‘long as we keep ridin’ straight…
Do enjoy all…the ride has to offer…
taking in the view…
Some may envy…or mis-judge you…
Others haven’t a clue…
Watch out ahead…looking for crazies…
Catching the warning sign…
Animals, cagers…or some insanity…
on the other side of the line…

© Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Natural Life’s Ride © 2014
___________________

Man! What a beautiful morning. Coffee is brewing and it’s aroma is impelling my nostrils with such a wonderful fragrance. Sun is shining, with it’s glowing warmth already bringing the day to life. A day long awaited in anticipation of finally getting to ride. It has been over a year since my bike decided it was time for an overhaul. After years of use and abuse, it told me “Enough is enough”, and gave up the ghost. You and I both know that things never go as planned. Right after my Pan died, so did my job. Darn gremlins, anyway! Cannot let that stuff get me down though…
Working many part time gigs, a few swap meets, and doing multiple trade offs, the Pan is finally ready to roll again. As I went through my gear, tracking down my leathers, gloves and riding glasses, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face. Pulling the Pan out of the garage, priming her, and kicking her over, my soul felt true exhilaration it hadn’t felt in a long time. As the big twin fired into life, my heart pounded with excitement. I could almost feel my heartbeat falling into rhythm with the symmetrical beat coming from the motor as it warmed up. Sitting in the saddle, I couldn’t wait to set 
my ride upright and feel the bars reaching into my soul, unlocking my wild spirit. Shifting it into gear, I felt a sense of freedom I have not had in quite a while. 
Riding through town I saw many fellow riders I haven’t seen since the last time I rode. You cannot imagine how good it was getting high fives, thumbs up, or the fellowship downward Vee sign from friends and fellow riders. I stopped to chat with a group of fellow M.R.O. members who advised me that our finest local law enforcement had been doing a lot of random stops lately. Sounded like a good time to head out of town, so I jumped up onto the freeway ramp for a quick getaway. It sure felt good pouring on a little throttle and feeling the wind in my face. 
Keep in mind that I had to hold back a bit on that throttle, since I was breaking in a new engine. Oh Man! Was that difficult… Rolling onto the highway was the start of fitting all the pieces back into my life’s puzzle. As the complications of life in the city fell further, and further, behind me, I began dreaming of a simpler life. Fields of produce, farms, barns and silos, reminded me of visiting my Aunt Mae and Uncle Ned, and staying in their humble household. Seeing an old antique tractor collecting rust gave me fond memories of Uncle Ned…Working hard to repair his tractor, while telling me how much he wished he was out riding his Pan instead. Yeah, the same Pan that I now ride. Uncle Ned taught me how to ride it whenever we were not working the farm. Leaving it to me in his will, he commented how he knew his Pan was going to someone he knew would appreciate it, and ride it.
That was more than a decade ago, and I have made it my nightly routine to give thanks to the Lord, and my Uncle Ned, whom I often refer to as my guardian angel. As I rolled out of the farmland, into the wilderness, I prayed that my guardian angels were looking over my shoulders. Rolling along the highway, I came into a large section of 
meadow land. The road ahead stretched out, long and straight. Perfect time to give the throttle a twist and crank it open. There I was, feeling like I was flying, when suddenly, a Peregrine Falcon shot past me, his wings arched back as he zoomed closer to the ground. Then, in a flash, his talons lurched forward and swooped up a small rodent. With his 
meal firmly in his possession, he veered around, and flew back in the direction he had just came from. I am absolutely amazed at the level of senses that all these raptors seem to have. Hell! I didn’t see no rodent in all that pale grass. Just like the precision timing of a well tuned engine, he spotted it, went for it, and before the little critter even knew what hit him, succeeded in the kill. 
Finding my self enthralled by Nature’s marvels, I am truly enjoying the ride. Ahead of me lays magnificent scenery, jutting rock formations, beautiful forests, full of not only a huge variety of conifers and hardwoods, but also some fascinating flora, and above it all, snow capped mountains rising high. The road in front of me begins to wind and curve upward, into the hills. Only those who ride can ever really understand the enjoyment received from leaning into a curve, taking full control of the situation, while testing the laws of gravity. Of course, no one ever knows what they may find around the next bend. Remember those gremlins I spoke of earlier? 
As I came out of a sharp bend, a huge buck emerged into the roadway and froze in the middle. The huge rack of horns on his noggin made me thankful I had just put on new tires and brakes, both front and rear. I also thanked my Uncle Ned, one of my guardian angels, for his lessons of riding wise. A blast of the horn, and the threat of a little nudge, got the buck to move out of the way. Once I was able to continue up the hillside, I moved on, taking in an awesome view of the surrounding snow capped peaks, As I gazed 
up to admire the majestic summits, I caught sight of a Bald Eagle soaring overhead. Seeing that impressive wing span and commanding presence made me understand why this wonderous creature has been chosen to represent the ideals this nation was founded on. This left me feeling privileged for the experience of seeing Nature’s grandeur at it’s finest. As I watched the magnificent bird soar off, into the distance, my mind dreamed, imagining how truly free it would feel to have command over the skies in such a manner. 
Off in the horizon, the great Pacific Ocean, and it’s vast expense of blue waters began emerging into view. There’s always something inviting about the ocean that I find difficult to describe. I am not sure if it’s curiosity about what lays on the other side, or what lives underneath the surface? Or is it the exuberance my soul feels as the waves crash onto the shore’s rocks, while the warm winds rush over me? Rolling down the western slopes, I decide a little side trip to the coast would be a great way to get a few more break in miles on the new motor. I’m loving the curves and gradual bends, sweeping me down into a blissful state of mind.
Moving back into the flat lands, I see a bunch of movement in the roadway ahead. Closing in on the action, I find a couple a adult raccoons, with a litter of baby coons in a formed line behind them, crossing the road. I’ve always been amazed by how raccoons adopted the family life, in much the same way that bikers do. As the last furry tail disappears into the brush, I give the throttle a twist, roaring off closer to the coastline. 
Up ahead is one of my favorite hang outs, “Sullie’s Inn”. Sullie has a wonderful country getaway, with a quaint combination of cafe, tavern, hotel, and gas station. I was definitely needing fuel, and was thankful that these kind of Mom and Pop places exist, who also seemed to appreciate their riders and other customers. After filling the tank, I went inside to pay, and as soon as I entered the door, was immediately attacked, by Big Momma Sullie, hugging the life out of me, saying “Where the hell have you been!?”. It was kind of quiet in the bar, and Sullie said it had been that way all day, and then she went on about how glad she was to see me back on the Pan again, and how she always 
thought of Aunt Mae and Uncle Ned, who were some of her regulars, whenever she saw the bike. I sat down and got a beer and ordered one of her fine barbequed pork sandwiches. She got right on it, and then while I ate, we visited and made up for lost time. Another pleasant reminder of how life is when the bike is running good, and 
I find time to get away. With a warm belly, and a warmed heart, I went out and got back to riding… 
Now, the river begins to wind alongside me, it’s waters rushing over rocks, occasionally forming waterfalls. Roaring in time with the rapids inspires my soul to roam further… It’s hard to match the exhilaration felt while sharing space with these untamed waters. Eventually, the river begins slowing into wider, more open waters. I then start to see fish jumping up, out of the water, to feed on gnats and Mayfly. What a bitchen sight! It sure seemed like there were a lot more fish jumping then ever show up when I have my fishing pole. This activity continues all the way into the tidewaters. I don’t know which is rougher, watching the fish jump, or admiring the homes and boat docks along the riverside, dreaming about one of them being my home. 
The boats were beginning to come in for the evening as I finally began approaching the coast. Stopping at a view point, I parked the bike, and walked up to the landing to gaze out over the ocean. The sun was moving lower, into the horizon, and fiery colors began to develop through the clouds. Looking off into the distance, I saw what appeared to be a spout of water, followed by a dark silhouette rising, then lowering back into the water, with a huge tail that rose up towards the sky, then down in a hurry. I realized I had just witnessed a whale surface for air, then dive again. 
Wow! What a fantastic day this has been. I’ve not only got to have a great ride, and break in my new engine, but also got rewarded by all the wonders Nature had to offer today. As the sun begins to set below the horizon, turning the sky into a beautiful canvas of abstract art, I smile and thank God, and my Uncle Ned, for today. I think I’ll just get a room here on the coast tonight. Who knows? Another day like today may come tomorrow. I know I’ll sure enjoy the ride, and my Pan will love the quick break in period.

Awe! Damn the sky is beautiful…

Rod Hatter – Author
RSOA ™ Nov. 12, 2103

 

Run Inspired © 2017

Run goin’ on,
but I can’t go.
Bike needs work…
and have no dough…
Used to let this…
bother me…
Hid and whined,
in misery.
These days…
I just let it roll…
Must have fun…
so now we stroll…
‘midst two wheels,
parked all around…
Time with friends…
while feet on ground.
Staying out,
we party late…
Fellow riders…
made things great…
Now, back home,
I go in shop..
Grab my ride…
and on her, hop.
Must fix bike…
and make her roll…
Riding is real good…
for soul…
Run’s inspired,
my new goal…
Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012

 

Stretching

Feet down at the crossroad…
…as mind idles in reserve…
Pondering upon direction…
Left, right or straight ahead…
…all away from where I’ve been.
Destination unimportant…
Listening to the highway calling me…
My inner desire longing…
Wishing for the freedom to roll…
Reality dwelling in mind’s corners.
Reminding me of duty and burdens,
both endured… so riding is possible.
Left foot rising to push shifter down,
as right hand twists the throttle,
other foot up, as clutch is released.
Ride’s engine humming a song…
continuing forward in rhythm…
In time with the beat…
My soul gets entwined…
After all…
It’s early… and the day is long…
To myself… I think…
“Get it, while I can…”
Every mile soothes…
The wind catches my cheeks…
stretching a smile…
as long as the road ahead.


Panhead Rod – RSOA 2012 ™
3/2/17

 

 

 

 

Rolling upstream

Moving against the flow,
as the highway streams below…
The wind ripples against my face,
as my beard flies into space…
Road’s lines dance… create allure,
baiting me, with their lure…
The feeling makes me cast,
all my worries from the past…
Darting forward, freedom strikes…
Action swift, the way I like…
Enjoying… give a twist to grip,
hang on strong, so I don’t slip…
There’s no limit to this fun…
as I roll into the Sun…
Like a school of tasty fish,
as this pavement fills my wish…
Grateful that I had a day,
Rolling upstream, Old School’s way…

Winter dreams…
From that fishing and riding fool…
Panhead Rod – RSOA ™2012
Jan. 2, 2017

 

Technical Blunders

Old School lost through technical wonders…
Supposed machines, they say have no blunders.
A future that takes away rider’s control…
Pulling the freedom straight from the soul.
No throttle, just settings, no way to go fast…
The spirit of riding… a thing from the past…
Only machines, that someday will fail,
leaving the rider with no way to bail…
The power to control at mercy of those,
who now push the buttons, not using their toes…
The days of the shifter, are soon shifting gears…
Machines will now do that, not like in past years.
Just taking a ride, the new strategy…
Riders at mercy of technology…
Sure not the way, that it used to be.
– Panhead Rod , RoadScribe

 

Happy Ho Ho

A ride in the northeast at the end of the year
In mid December , as January nears
awakes the spirit in a special way
thundering closer to that special day
all of a sudden ol’ Santa rolls on up
he’s got a brand new ride
gone are the reindeer pulling the sleigh
it’s being hauled by a Super Glide
plump an’ jolly in his suit of red leather
taking care of the kids, no matter the weather
Happy Ho Ho to all, ride on !

© JoPo 2012
Road Scribes of America ™ 2012

 

Santa’s Harley

If Santa used a Harley
to pull his big ol’ sleigh
what would poor ol’ Rudolph do
and what would Dasher say
would Dancer and Prancer feel left out
if the Jolly man’s sled were metal
how ‘bout Vixen and Comet
would Donner and Blitzen settle
does Cupid lose her love for Nick
do they all go live with Scrooge
or would they flatten both his tires
the problems could be huge
but maybe they all would love his sled
as it thundered pulling the sleigh
and wish the ol’ man nothing but good
laughing all the way
knowing their buddy ol’ Saint Nick
chose a Harley for the important deed
of hauling those bags filled with toys
for the girls and boys in need
helping out on this special day
in his selfless caring biker way
all the reindeer then could rest
knowing their work was done
by a big hearted Santa
hauling his sleigh with a Harley
On the biker’s Christmas run

© JoPo Dec. 2012
Road Scribes of America ™ 2012

 

The Ride Beyond © 2010 Rod Hatter
____________________
written by Rod Hatter
Aug. 9, 2010 

Lookin’ out…the road ahead,
my soul absorbs the wind.
The bike…it now just runs so smooth.
My troubles all rescind.

The daylight flashes through the trees.
The shadows chase the wheels.
There’s feelings that I’ve never felt,
as life becomes surreal.

My thoughts…they flash into the past.
My mind does travel back,
Now it seems to all make sense.
I guess I got not slack.

Memories of the speeding car,
who failed to make the turn.
The head on crash that took me out.
My bike and body burn.

There was no hurt, there was no pain.
It happened oh so quick.
As life… it left me by my side,
performing magic tricks.

Darkness came on…oh so brief,
as if it was a dream.
When I awoke, my mind did clear,
my past life ran it’s stream.

Looking back…there’s no regrets,
for anything I did.
This righteous ride, ahead so long,
began with that last skid.

*Excerpt from “Lines Well Ridden”

 

Blarneyful Day

There’s a bit o’ the blarney in many who ride…
Do something stupid, it never will slide…
They’ll Feed you bull, while wearing a smirk…
Pulling a prank, being a jerk…
Making you blush, getting you tense…
Having great fun… at your expense…
A baby will whine and may through a fit…
A true biker knows, it’s only some shit…
St. Patrick’s Day, it gets even worse…
The end of the rainbow will just make you curse…
There’s no pot of gold, nor is there luck,
only two bros trading a buck…
They bet you would fall, whatever the game…
Win, lose or draw…it’s always the same…
Just smile and roll with them, having some fun…
Middle of March, there’s seldom a run…
Drink Irish whiskey, cussing a storm
Dream of the rides, when days get warm…
Hunt leprechauns and catch if you can…
Find four leaf clovers that look like a fan…
Fill on that blarney, fuel to roll on…
while Winter’s here, and sunshine is gone…
Chase your life’s snakes out of the way…
God bless St. Patti for making your day…
…and that’s all the blarney that I have to say…

May your St. Patrick’s Day be full of zest
and demon snake free…

Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012
edited March 9, 2016

 

Lasting Smiles
_______________
written by Rod Hatter
June 7, 2014

In this world where things don’t last,
blessed by memories of the past…
Loving family, friends who cared…
All those great times that we shared.
Been through good times, been through bad.
Know that life is sometimes sad…
Still…I’m thankful every day,
they’ve been there to guide my way.
Sharing hope with all their smiles,
encouragement that’s flown for miles…
Great support in many forms,
carried me through vicious storms

These days life still turns it’s page,
dealing with this thing called age.
Still make memories, still survive,
doing my best to stay alive…
Saddened when we’ve lost someone,
because their life has finally gone.
Pray the family and us friends…
hold real memories… no pretends.
Honor them with dignity…
Share with all their memory…
As we each now tell a tale…
give smiles around and set full sail…
wave those smiles up in the sky…
Push them strong…so they now fly.
Energy that will surely last…
created by those things from past…
memories of them don’t erase…
Lasting smiles upon their face.

 

Bikeless

In this crazy world of have and have not,
a bikeless biker is feeling distraught.
His ride had to go…just so he could live.
His soul now feels strained…like ran through a sieve.
He already misses the rides that they took.
He won’t find escape, from reading no book.
Off in the distance, he hears his ride roar…
Sounds like it’s angry, and anquished for sure.
Together they travelled a great many miles.
Sharing the road…sharing the smiles… smile emoticon
Now he must continue to work to find way…
to get back a rollin’…and send life astray.
He knows that he will, he knows that he must,
before all his joints just seize up and rust.
The lifetime he spent a rollin’ long lines,
is just who he is…a biker defined…

© Panhead Rod
Road Scribes Of America ™

 

Direction

Sunday mornin’… Sky is clear…
but it’s cold, as winter’s near…
close my eyes and dream of spring…
love it when the robins sing…
really love when fish do bite…
as the owl hunts in the night…
Love it when the roads are dry…
hearing motor rev up high…
Smile as lines just stay behind…
know direction… I will find…
Also know another day…
will come and keep me on my way…
© Rod Hatter RSOA ™

 

Life Spoken Well

I am just a crusty ole fool,
grown and raised in the old school…
Taught to use manners, learned to respect.
Know that your family, you never neglect.
Honor is something you must deserve…
through actions you do,
……………..or ways that you serve.
When I’m out riding with fellow riders,
stagger our pack, making roads wider…
Staying together, the best that we can,
keeping a look out for cager or man.
If something happens, none left behind.
Some will stay with them…
…………….. tow or parts we’ll find.
Friendship does gather to throw a party…
cause or for charity, giving real hearty.
When someone passes, many will show,
giving support to their Sister or Bro…
This is the life that I ride to live…
The life of a biker has so much to give.

© Rod Hatter Feb. 3, 2014 RSOA ™

 

Honey Buns
_.
My gal has her own ride,
and she rides it hard.
She used to hop on back.
Her butt is now scarred.

She tightened her buns
at the cracks in the road.
Then wiggled and jiggled,
to free up the load.

I’d try not hit them,
but cracks somehow hide.
She ragged when I hit them.
“OOOPS.. Honey, I tried.”

So now she rests her butt
on her ride so strong,
while me and my rigid,
keep hopping along.

We’re glad she’s now happy,
and so full of glee.
My Pan and I grateful,
that now we ride free.

© Rod Hatter
Oct.2, 201 0 RSOA™

 

 

Raven’s Eyes

Took a ride… to soothe the way…
Insanity was…the game today.
Things were crazy… running loops…
Felt I had to… jump through hoops.
Blessed by a raven, as it flew by…
but there was sadness… in it’s eyes.
I pondered why… it’s soul was sad…
The more I thought, I just got mad…
I’m certain that… it sees our waste…
Wonders why… we live in haste…
Knows that Nature… does provide…
if we simply… stay in stride.
Asked of me… by all it’s gestures…
take it slow… and end world’s festers…
Enjoy the sights… absorb the light…
Stop the madness… make things right.
As it flew off… in my rear view…
my heart said thanks… for Nature’s clue…

I will slow down… and not get blue…

Panhead Rod – RSOA  2012
July 3, 2017 

 

 

Rolling Cause
______________
written by Rod Hatter…
a.k.a. Panhead Rod
Oct. 25, 2014

Miles of spokes speaking true…
of why these bikers ride.
Gathered on a run for cause…
with goodness at their side.

Toy runs, Vets runs, Cancer runs too…
for a real cause, they know what to do…
Take a ride and raise some cash,
while they’re at it, throw a bash.
power in numbers make them strong,
helping heal or righting wrong…
Face in wind, and bars in hand,
rolling good across the land…
When you see ’em, give a wave,
for all their efforts that they gave.
Know they love to see you smile…
makes rides worthy of every mile.

RSOA  2012

 

Really Good Vibes
__________________

Two wheels or three, out movin’ free…
Scribes ridin’ lines, than writing fine.
Life spent each day…on a highway…
Twist grip a notch…no need for watch.
Ink than rolls thin…sharing to win.
Telling their tales…rings guardian bells…
Proud and honored to be a Road Scribe ™
In the wind feeling some really good vibes…

Panhead Rod – RSOA ™ 2012
7-11-2014