York Wings: Ride For Sight

Bike clubs seem to have two principal purposes: to bring together people who want to ride and socialize with like-minded individuals, and to serve as a vehicle to give something back to the community. I was there when the executive of the York Wings suggested that the club put together an event that would get everyone out riding and have some fun, while at the same time benefit a charitable organization.

The executive came up with the idea for a ride based on pledges and manned checkpoints; the more checkpoints a rider would visit, the greater the amount of money that would

Murray and Sid; York Wings booth at Toronto bike show

be raised. It was unanimously agreed upon by the club that the ride would be for cancer research. Although I can't say with any certainty who all were the hard working members directly responsible for the organization of the ride, it was Murray H who seemed to provide the greatest voice of leadership (at least as I remember it).

In preparation for the actual ride, about a half dozen or so of us volunteered to make a dry run of the planned route that would stretch between Kingston and Windsor. Because of the great distance, we decided to do this over two weekends. On the first weekend, we headed eastward along the 401. Our objective was to determine the location for each checkpoint based on visibility, ease of access, and amenities. It was only natural that we inspected service stations and truck stops for their suitability. Our final stop that day was in Kingston, where we checked into the Holiday Inn for the night.

Four of us stayed in one room where we shared two large beds. Upon entering the suite, my future brother-in-law bounded for the first bed and leapt high into the air before landing solidly in its centre with all his weight. Thankfully he did not carry any excess poundage on his build, because I'm sure if he did, both he and I would have spent the night on the floor. Nevertheless, there was a resounding crack that echoed within the room, followed by a rattling hum that sent the bed into convulsions. Along with pay per view blue channels, the establishment had provided magic fingers for the enjoyment of their guests. Normally one would deposit fifty cents in the bedside meter to get those good vibrations going, but ours not only turned on for free, we could not turn it off. It didn't take long for the novelty to wear off since both the racket and the gyrations left us with headaches and motion sickness. In an effort to silence the contraption, we beat upon the box until it was no longer identifiable, and yet it continued to live. We finally got a decent night's rest when someone finally did the obvious and pulled the plug.