Of Troubadours and Titanium
It was a good day for a ride. The temperature was near ninety, but the humidity was much lower than we had experienced the previous days during a rare heat wave of week straight with ninety plus degrees and humidities that would rival the tropics.
Judy and I agreed that a trip to one of our favorite destinations along the Allegheny River would be pleasant and welcome relief from the heat as well as a nice place to get our evening meal and we could get there in about an hour and a half.
We were about halfway through our voyage, and I was feeling the calming effects of the ride. I was getting lost in the day and my mind was clearing out the accumulated trash when a stop at a traffic sign told me that I had forgotten the sunscreen. “Way to go, dummy!” my plastic good luck charm and constant motorcycle companion, Clyde, said to me.
I told Judy of my forgetful folly, and we made it a point to stop at a stop-n-rob to purchase some protective lather for the rest of the trip.
Our search of the store revealed nothing that would ease the effects of the day’s sun on my face, neck, and arms, and our query of the attendant proved that there were no such items available. “Oh well, most of the damage was already done.” I told Judy and we settled for a cool drink instead before continuing our pilgrimage.
We had discussed an alternative to our usual Foxburg Allegheny Grille before leaving home. There is a wine shop across the street from the grille with a covered patio where you can sip your preferred fermented fruit drink and engage in intellectual conversation. The grille also has a patio, but uncovered except for shade umbrellas at each table, but boosts a beautiful view overlooking the river.
It was pretty much decided by the both of us on our trip down to try the covered patio at the winery and enjoy a bottle of wine there along with a meal of something from their kitchen. It was something we had always talked about but never “got around to it”.
When we arrived at our destination, we saw that the parking lot was almost full and figured that the grille would be busy. A quick look at the winery proved that we made the right choice as the patio there had quite a few tables open.
Once inside we chose a flavor of wine suitable to both our pallets. We were told the kitchen was not open yet and that remodeling was taking place but not yet done. But we could get a pizza from across the street, and it would even be ordered for us if we wished.
Judy and I gave our order for pizza to the wine server and took our chilled bottle on ice and two glasses to the patio. We found a comfortable table under the shade of the rustic wooden roof.
Also under the roof was a singer for the listening pleasure of the winery patrons. A man named Joey Stallman was there with his electronic equipment he used for the background music to his songs. Although he used no guitar, he was well versed in the use of the harp (harmonica) and the melodica (a sort of keyboard played using the mouth and fingers) for his accompaniment, along with the electronically recorded music. I added to the man’s tip jar and enjoyed his music, the wine, and the day. We soon had our pizza, and all was good.
His music was an eclectic mix of folk, folk and classic rock, and southern soft rock. He preformed several numbers of each before singing “Rambling Man” by the Allman Brothers. The Allman Brothers are a favorite of mine while on the road during extended trips on two wheels and when I told the singer of that, he serenaded me with two more Allman Brothers songs “Melissa” and “Midnight Rider”. All three songs I sometimes sing in my head while accompanied by the sound of the motor of my bike and the road. I added a few more bucks to his tip jar.
After making sure the wine had dissipated, Judy and I headed for home. It was a good day and a calming and peaceful day that I wished would have lasted longer.
My time on the bike has been limited this summer by a substantial amount of mileage. A rainy spring and a broken hip are my demon foes. The rain is controlled by a power greater than I.
I have been informed by doctors and other medical professionals that I need a hip replacement, and in August of this year I will undergo the only surgery I have ever had during my time, save for a tonsillectomy at the age of twelve.
Oh, I can ride just fine. When I’m in the saddle I’m pain free, and I have no problems controlling the bike. But if I were to lay it down or even just tip it over, there would be no way I could right the bike back up or even assist in doing so. And in the worst-case scenario, a wreck or spill may damage the, already broken, bone beyond repair
I have been told my hip has been fractured for some time due to the loss of cartilage. I have been grinding bone on bone and the fracture is due to that stress on the bone. I wonder how many miles I have ridden with that fracture. Only the worsening pain caused me to seek medical attention after thinking all along, these past few years, it was just old age and arthritis. “Stubborn” would be the anecdote my wife would use. Freely and often.
On a subsequent visit to the surgeon’s office, I was curious as to the surgical procedure used to replace my hip. I kind’a wish I wouldn’t have. (Caution, the following explanation is graphic.)
I was told that an incision of about six inches would be made in my lower back. Then the offending bone would be pulled out from my pelvis, cut off, and the replacement would be hammered, yes hammered! into my leg bone.
Geeeeze!!! That didn’t even sound nice and the mechanical side of me, along with forty years of die-setting, wonders if maybe the bone could be drilled and tapped and the man-made replacement gently screwed in. But I’m a retired die-setter and not a surgeon. I do wonder too as to the type of hammer used. My better judgement tells me not to ask. Visions of a mad man swinging a large ballpeen hammer sticks in my mind.
Having spent forty years in the powdered metal industry, I was also curious as to the type of metal used to manufacture the replacement part. “Titanium” was the answer I received from the physician’s assistant.
Titanium, chemical element Ti and atomic symbol 22, is found only as oxide and must be refined. It can be polished to a high luster. It has a low density but high strength and is corrosion resistant. Making it almost perfect for a man-made bone replacement. (No, I’m not that smart. I had to look this stuff up.)
So just how long have I ridden with a broken hip? That’s hard to say. So far this year I have a pitiful 1956 miles logged on the bike. A far cry from the previous seasons when I had twice that amount, and even more, by this time. But considering I have had this pain for a couple of years now, 10,000 miles would not be a stretch of the truth. Addiction has no limits.
Though I have the usual trepidations about the surgery, I am looking forward to being free from hip pain and living on extra-strength over-the-counter pain medications and medications that reduce inflammation.
I was enjoying a return to competitive shooting, on a casual level, before my hip pain. Recent trips to the range now consist of sitting on the tailgate of my truck, plinking down targets no further away than about twenty-five yards to avoid the painful walk to reset them.
But more importantly, I miss the daily routine at Planet Fitness with Judy, our walks together, and the rides with her.
Long Lonesome Highway 