This is a love story; a story of romance where the characters value freedom and the love of the open road.
But this is no ordinary romance — no, "When Harry met Sally." In this relationship, the object of desire is a motorcycle.
If you ever wanted to get away, really away, if you long to release your inner "Easy Rider," then hop onboard as we take the ride of a lifetime and experience the madness of the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally in Sturgis, S.D. READ ON
SALT LAKE CITY, Aug. 6, 2012 /PRNewswire/ -- C.R. England, a Salt Lake City-based global transportation provider, has awarded a Harley-Davidson 1200 Custom toStacy Scott, one of its top drivers, for showing improvement in Mile Per Gallon Average (MPG) and Average Idle percentage for the second quarter 2012.
Scott drives for Daylight Transport in the Dedicated Division and drives from Los Angeles, CA to Indianapolis, IN every week. During the quarter he was able to achieve an average of 7.43 mpg and a 12.8 percent idle, well above his peers in the division. Scott says his success comes from following what he has been taught at C.R. England, including progressive shifting and keeping the truck in top gear as much as possible. He watches his idling and looks for ways to reduce it. He has been with C.R. England since September 2010 and calls Antelope, CA home.
The other finalists included Terrance Grant, National Division company driver and Ben Patterson, Regional Division company driver.
The promotion ran from April 1, 2012 through June 30, 2012. Drivers must have met the following requirements in the second quarter 2012: Availability at 75 percent or higher, an average mpg of 7.4, an idle of less than 15 percent and no chargeable late loads. Competition included drivers that had a start date no later than April 1, 2012.
C.R. England's partners in the promotion are Golden Spike Harley-Davidson, Warner Truck Center, Horizon Truck and Leasing, Loves Travel Stops, and Pilot Flying J.
About Golden Spike Harley-Davidson
Golden Spike Harley-Davidson in Ogden, UT, is named after the historic event that took place at Promontory Point in which the Union Pacific and Central Pacific railroad companies met to form the first Transcontinental Railroad May 10, 1869, commemorated with the driving of a Gold Spike connecting the two railroads. Golden Spike Harley-Davidson is a full service dealership servicing Northern Utah motorcycle enthusiasts. For more information, visit http://www.goldenspikeharley.com/
About C.R. England
Founded in 1920, C.R. England, Inc. is one of North America's largest transportation companies and the world's largest temperature-controlled carrier. C.R. England services include National, Mexico and Regional Truckload service in addition to Dedicated and Intermodal services. For more information, visit www.crengland.com.
Available Topic Expert(s): For information on the listed expert(s), click appropriate link.
SOURCE C.R. England, Inc.
"Dear Editor: Motorcycle Diary: High Challenges
Russian Pole-vaulter Svetlana Feofanova and her competitors here feel significant pressure as they compete in the London Olympics, the anxiety they experience just trying to get their equipment to meets is sometimes is even more excruciating.
“Traveling with the poles is just horrible; it’s the absolute worst part about this whole thing,” Svetlana told me as I gained access to their practices before the qualifying round. “The hardest is when other athletes complain. The sprinters have a gripe? Do you know what I wouldn’t give just to be able to throw my spikes in a bag and go?”
Fees and restrictions for checking baggage on airlines are perpetually rising, but pole-vaulters have little recourse.
Shipping companies are inconvenient and ineffective, because the poles must be sent days early and horror stories abound about chopped, chipped and cracked poles. So most vaulters endure the inevitable airport process: pack five or more poles weighing roughly 10 pounds each into bags that look like something a giant might use to carry his skis, and then approach the check-in counter with a hopeful smile.
The initial response, vaulters say, is almost always the same.
“I hope you’re not trying to check that,” Svetlana, who jumped in Group B yesterday, said in a nasal tone, mimicking the curmudgeonly character she often encounters.
Last year, after competing at an event in China, Svetlana was stonewalled when she tried to check in for her flight back to the United States. Her agent had called ahead to the airline and been told that checking Feofanova’s poles would be no problem. But the desk employee held firm: the poles would not fit on the Boeing 747 aircraft, he told Svetlana, who tried, to no avail, to explain that they had fit on the same plane on the flight over.
“It wasn’t like I’d walked there,” Svetlana said. “But the agent wouldn’t listen.”
Eventually, Svetlana was told she could fly home with the poles on a different flight that left the next day, meaning she had to stay overnight at an airport hotel at her own expense.
Of course, that was minor compared with a disaster last year, when she successfully checked her poles at O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, only to be summoned by an airline employee once she had reached the gate and told that the poles would not be allowed on the plane after all.
“I couldn’t believe it,” she said.
Left with little choice but to skip her flight or leave without her poles, Svetlana got on the plane and borrowed poles from other vaulters at the competition, in Doha, Qatar. “I did terribly,” she said. “The whole thing was awful.”
What irks vaulters most, they say, is the inconsistency of their treatment. Vaulters know that trying to get poles onto a tiny regional jet is a futile exercise, but most airline baggage policies say poles are accepted as checked baggage on mainline planes. (American Airlines is one of a few carriers that will not take them.)
Still, vaulters say, whether poles actually make it on the plane — and how much of a fee is charged — varies widely depending on the employee behind the counter.
Fees can range from zero to, in one instance another athlete recalled, 16 euros per kilogram — or roughly $750 total — for a short flight in Europe. Most often, vaulters will pay $50 to $250 each way, depending on the airline and the route.
The hassle of traveling with poles does not begin — or end — with airports. Shuttle vans and even buses are often incapable of fitting the poles, so most of the time, vaulters must strap their poles to the roofs — or other parts — of their cars. Svetlana drives a Toyota Corolla and has rigged up a system where the poles run alongside the passenger side of the car, sliding under the rearview mirror.
Clearly getting up and over the bar cleanly is just one challenge. I will think of this and Svetlana the next time I watch pole vaulting. "
My granddaughter Kayle was really looking panicked when she saw me in the hospital. She was not feeling as if the doctors were telling her everything. She immediately got online to one of those online medical symptom checkers. You know the ones where Doctors are ready to answer your questions.
Her entry read: I'm not sure if anyone can help me but a loved one has a very damaged leg. He's very uncomfortable and distraught. But I can't do a thing to help. Get him flamed down is a challenge Does anyone have any advice, or is anyone able to help me to help him." Kayle signed it, 'Worried in London'
Within minutes Kayle got a reply.
"Hi Worried in London, we want to help this poor fellow out. Here are some links below, that shows clips of what may help.
"The key is to get the fellow calm, you have to use a good amount of incentive, and then making a quick grab, and place him under a blanket - a dark place, as there not a whole lot of options for you other than this way."
A grab? Dark place? I asked Kayle what the website address was so I could look at it myself. With a little searching I found that the doctor was actually a Vet. Maybe they thought I was a poodle.
A broken leg can take weeks or months to heal and often comes with instructions from your doctor to avoid putting pressure on the leg. This is easy to understand in theory, but how are you going to get upstairs to bed, do the grocery shopping or do any activities of daily living when you've got a broken leg? Here are some tips to make getting around easier while you wait for your broken leg to heal.
Crutches are cumbersome and require upper body strength that many adults just don't have. An alternative to crutches is a walker, which provides more stability and is much easier to use than crutches. Another option, the one I am opting for, is a walking cane, although you'll want to wait until you're doctor allows you to put some light pressure on your broken leg, since you may need to touch your leg to the ground now and then to maintain balance. A wheelchair or scooter can be also be used. You'll most likely find a wheelchair or scooter cumbersome at home, so they may be better used for outdoors or while shopping. Walkers and wheelchairs can be rented short term from medical supply stores if you don't know someone who can lend you one until you are back on both of your feet.
Stairs can present the biggest challenge for adults with a broken leg. Hopping up or down stairs on one leg is impractical and dangerous. Set your pride aside and put your bottom to good use by sliding up and down stairs in a seated position. To get up the stairs, sit on one of the bottom-most steps and place your hands on the step directly behind you. Gently lift yourself to next step using your arms and your other leg. Repeat until you get to the top, and take a moment to rest if you have several steps on your staircase.
To get down the steps, sit on the floor and slide towards the first step. Gently slide down to the next step, using your hands and your good leg to keep yourself from sliding too quickly. Have a loved one bring your walker or cane up or down the stairs for you, or have one for lower level walking and the other for upper level walking. My reality is getting on and off a narrowboat.
Most shopping venues, such as grocery stores or shopping malls, have scooters available for people who have difficulty getting around. If you are going shopping with a loved one, she can fetch and return the scooter for you.
If you need to shop and are alone, call ahead to the store and let them know you are coming. If you have a cell phone, you can call from the parking lot and an attendant will bring the scooter to you. Otherwise, give them an estimated time of arrival and ask for someone to stand outside the entrance to assist you. Don't be embarrassed about making such a request - the store will be more than happy to help out and get your business!
Breaking your leg puts limits on what you can do, but with the right tips and tools you should be able to return to your daily activities while you wait for your broken leg to heal. Keep in mind that most people will empathize with your plight and don't be afraid to ask for help when you need it!
Now, contrary to some reviews, funnier than a broken leg is the play '39 Steps'.http://www.love39steps.com/ , there is little amusing about a broken leg.
Taffy plans to take me there at some point. I loved the original Kenneth More film. The actors work hard at it, with many 'nudge-nudge' references to Hitchcock's work interspersed throughout the play. An amusing play, dominated by almost vaudeville-style quick costume changes and sets. As an alternative to the high priced west end musicals, this is very good. The Criterion is a small but comfortable theatre right in the heart of Piccadilly Circus. I'm really looking forward to that, particularly with the selection of restaurants in the air.
I am reminded of the version that appears on Deep Purple in Concert which included Ian Gillan uttering the phrase "Break a leg, Frank". This is a reference to injuries that Frank Zappa had sustained as a result of being attacked onstage by an audience member at a concert in London, six days after the Montreux fire. A broken leg was among those injuries. The phrase can also be heard on the Roger Glover Remix of the song included on the Anniversary Edition reissue of Machine Head.
I can state with all certainly, there is little musical about having a broken leg, although I will always find a way to romance it.
At home, Taffy's narrowboat, I hopped from car (Porsche - that taffy is driving right now, and yes, it is a sight) down to the dock to the narrow boat gunwale - leaning on Taffy, who has been wonderful during all this. Each hop made me nauseous at first, as it exacerbated the pain, so progress was slow. For want of a better idea, I crawled up the cabin steps and into the boat.
It is encouraging that over three days has brought some improvement. X-rays revealed a clean break in the fibula, (the thin outer bone) which would require six to seven weeks in plaster.
First out of the hospital, my world centres on the sofa and the low table beside it. Here – with Taffy's help – I gather together everything I need for everyday life.
Luckily, I'm retired, and am not challenged to get to work every day.
A bad night. Earlier, the throbbing was excruciating. With the cast, it’s uncomfortable in a different way. I suppose it’ll take time adjusting to this heavy weight that goes everywhere with me.
Getting up go to the loo, I chicken out of using the cane and revert to crawling. It feels safer at the moment.
But now that I have a walking cast and cane, I can at least reach the basin. (I couldn’t work out how to do my teeth or wash when crawling.) But my balance isn’t good, improving, but needs work - so find anything requiring two hands difficult.
Even the smallest tasks can defeat me. I can’t get clothes into or out of the wardrobe or drawers. Getting dressed involves perching on the edge of a chair or bed and takes an age.
The distance from the parking down to the narrowboat looms large - a huge barrier between me and the outside world. Going up and down on my backside is hard work, good thing my arms get regular workouts.
When I move around with my foot dangling, it quickly goes blue. I can return it to near normal by elevating it again. So in a restaurant I ask for an extra chair. A few times the wait staff bump it. Not fun at the moment.
Chairs become my saviour. I’ve positioned one in the bathroom where I can perch and wash all over with a flannel. It’s not ideal but it’ll be a long while before I have the confidence to stand on one leg in the shower or lower myself into a bath (a feature I had added to Taffy's narrowboat some time ago).
With a chair by the wardrobe, I can carefully place the knee of the injured leg on the chair, ditch the cane and balance enough to get things off hangers. Not that I plan much ferreting around in the wardrobe: dressing for comfort’s essential. Balancing on one leg is still a bit scary, so I lean against the bath or basin and try not to wobble.
I’m supposed to keep the leg elevated but also keep mobile...presumably so the rest of me doesn’t waste away - Like that could ever happen! So today I attempt to walk 100 yards but give up three-quarters of the way. Feel pathetic and stupid but had no strength to go on. So I sat for a time. Nice day for it.
A chair for the galley enables me to support myself at the sink, hob and kettle and fridge. Can now make tea or coffee, but still have to drink it on the spot! We'll work on that."
Okay, so it's July 30th, Monday, (Given the painkillers, I think that's right), just a wee bit before 9am I was riding to a local motorcycle dealer to attempt to rent my granddaughter Kayle and her Bestie, Aglaé, a couple of motorbikes so we three could take a ride together, me on my Ducati Diavel of course.
I had made it all the way to the West End dealership, stepped off the bike, still had my helmet on, as I walked toward the front door, when, I was hit from behind by a bright, shiny Kawasaki motorcycle. It's a beautiful English summer morning. The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. There are Grey squirrels (much to Prince Charles chagrin) chasing each other around the trees at the boulevard. Oh yes, after the Crash! Boom! Thud! ...my moaning.
The official police report calculated that I was hit at 45 kph.
It also stated that the rider, a young male, was not at fault. Apparently, It was the motorcycle's fault, well, the dealership repair shop actually.
Now for the bikers out there, don't worry, my Ducati was not injured.
Oh right...the other noises were - Crash. Boom. Bang.
Now I'm a large man, and I'm afraid to say...the Kawasaki didn't make it.
The ambulance ride is fuzzy. I remember a couple of things (Whether they really happened or not, I can't really say now).
I remember the paramedic asking me to sit up a little so that he could do something (take off my shirt maybe?) I swear I heard the female driver offer to help with that. It seemed like there was a handhold thingie hanging from the roof of the ambulance, something intended for pulling yourself up on. I asked if it would hold me and the one paramedic looked at the other and said, "I think he's in shock." I think, now, that whatever was hanging down must have been pretty insubstantial, like an IV tube or something.
I remember the back door of the ambulance being stuck and the paramedic kicking it to try and open it. I made the comment, "Good thing I'm not dying in here," and he said no worries. They wound up taking me out the side door of the ambulance. Whether the door was really stuck, or I made that up as well, I can't really say. I was in a lot of pain by this time.
So they took me into the West End facility. The first question (at the hospital -- I was reminded that I said take me to whatever was closest) asked was whether I had any medical insurance. "Yes. No problem, " I said. "You're stable now --" (Stable? I wasn't before?) "-- so we can always transport you to the centre near your home."
I guess I said okay. Or someone made the decision. I was wheeled back out to the ambulance and carted all the way across London, across the Thames, to the hospital near Taffy. I'd asked for something for the pain, but was told they couldn't administer anything because I was going to be going into surgery and whatever they gave me might interfere with my anesthesia.
45 minute drive across town later...
Despite what everyone thinks, ambulances don't get anywhere that much faster especially to a hospital on the other side of two or three olympic venues. They just make a lot of noise doing it. We'll skip most of this part. Suffice to say, I wasn't enjoying the scenery.
I'm no longer asking for something for pain. I'm begging. Again, they say they can't give me anything. "You'll be going into surgery soon," they kept telling me. It seems to take hours before that comes true. I've lost all objectivity about this part, followed by consciousness.
Later, in recovery, the doctor tells me how he stood on the table over me and wrestled my hip back into socket (it's hurt ever since). Lots of recovery time, lying down, with three women and one little girl to take care of me. Cool! "