The next few years would see me average about 12,000 miles a year, between summer touring, a couple of rallies and commuting around town. Unlike working in the BMW shop, my position as CO-coordinator of Option Awareness gave me lots of time to travel. We were a school based program, but were funded to be a year-round project. My partner and I would split the very inactive summer times of covering the office, as we put together next years' program and answered the odd phone call. I would occasionally flee the office to go help out at BMW of Colorado Springs or work on the house. I had grown up reading the Whole Earth Catalog, and was "hot-rodding" our small 100 year old house to be as energy efficient as possible. Additional insulation, storm windows, wood stove, two solar green houses and a solar hot water system all went in during the decade. We also paid it off, in 1980, as well. So, housing costs were low, to say the least. Transport was the bike for me and a VW bug for the wife. The goal was to maintain the starving student lifestyle while receiving a middle-class income. You don't need to do this for a terribly long time (as long as your luck and health are basically good) before one can start to think about early retirement (at a starving student standard). This was our goal (I thought), as we moved along.

Just sort of cruised along those few years, our four year project of Option Awareness became a two year project, as Reagan kicked ass in the early 80's. I hired on as an LPN at the local community health center right away, only to lose that job six months later as they were cut back as well. Fortunately that was Spring so I spent a leisurely three months of what would turn out to be my last bit of helping out at Doc's; before hiring on as crisis/residential counselor with the local community mental health center. That, I think, was the worse job I've ever held in my adult life, but I stuck it out for a year. I quit that one, along with the entire night shift, over unaddressed safety issues. Again, a leisurely three months of Spring riding before setting up a temporary homeless shelter with another fellow. Colorado Springs had one of the two last functioning Poor Farms in the country, and closed it abruptly in mid-Feburary. The local Catholic Worker community started a back-up shelter but were planning on closing it. A community coalition hired the other guy and me to job-share the directing of that shelter until the Red Cross could organize and open a permanent one. Again, lots of riding time. They had already signed me on to be evening supervisor when they opened in May of '83.

Just lots of trips across the country; visiting a brother in Massachusetts, my mother and friends in California, the odd rally and frequent runs to mountain hot springs kept the average between 12K and 15K a year. Doc's acquired a second mechanic and the staff was experienced to the point where all I went there for was hanging out and talking bikes. Now I was taking advantage of that corner and tools for customers.

All this getting laid off and frequently changing jobs convinced me that getting my RN was a good idea. Applied and was accepted at at Beth-El School of Nursing, a three year course. Started in the Summer of '83. I was able to challenge out of all the first year nursing classes because of my Army and LPN experience so the first year was reasonably easy, just academic courses. The three years of Beth-El just fell into the last three years of my GI Bill time period. I worked and went to the first year with no trouble, and with very little riding, either. Had to quit the Shelter position once I started the second year at a full load of studies and clinical work.

Doc's closed in 1985, a victim of the embezzlement; he didn't have the reserves to meet BMWNA's demands to expand the show room. An all-too-common a tale back then, and a really great shop and touring stopover was no more. Doc sold the franchise to a big time Yamaha dealer down the street, the BMW mechanic went along to the new shop and quit three weeks later. I began to get phone-calls: "I heard you used to repair BMW's, is that true?" Thus, After-hours BMW Service (where hi-tech and lowlife collide) came into being. I got the parts from out of town BMW dealers and Capital Cycle (back then, a lot of their stuff was authentic BMW stuff). When I had a bit of free time, not often in the last two years of nursing school, I'd work on bikes, to keep the skills up and bring in a little more money.

At the Hobo Convention in '85, I was to hear of a second happening in August that was to become a regular part of the Summer tour routine. I was standing by the rail siding, talking with this most unlikely person, John Z.. He's about my age, a Norwegian bachelor wheat farmer from Minnesota, also a computer geek from the early cyber days, Deadhead and Hobo aficionado. We were talking about fireworks and he asked me if I REALLY liked them. Upon getting the affirmative, he asked,' "Do you know about the P.G.I.?" Upon getting the negative, he says, "Sit down, you are really going to enjoy the next five minutes of this conversation." He then proceeded to tell me about the Pyrotechnic Guild International, about 800 folks who get together every August for a week long convention and compete with each other, shooting off things they spent all winter putting together. Didn't have the time this summer, but next year I would be done with school and was planning on taking the summer off.

School's out! Graduated in late May of 1986, already had a job lined up in the fall, on a spinal injury/rehab unit (the knowledge and experience would prove VERY useful 10 years later), and a whole summer to go riding. More rallies, visiting friends, my brother back East, the hobo and the Pyro Conventions. I've only missed two P.G.I. conventions since then. They are overwhelming, like a really good rally with fireworks beyond fantastic. I mean LOUD! I fell in with the campers, who, in return for walking "dud patrol" (and finding a lot of cool stuff) every morning, got to camp for free at the shooting site. Best vantage point of the whole convention, but your tent might have a few holes when it's over.

Crossed the 200K mark in '86 as well, Strider was starting to look a little worn again, but was running as fine as ever. The summer ended and I began work as a "real RN". It was part time, of course, as the increased salary meant I could work fewer hours for the same income. After nine months, I transferred within the hospital to the Psychiatric floor, where I had wanted to be all along. That was probably the best job I've ever had in my life: decent pay, great coworkers (many are still my friends), felt like we were helping most of our patients, and, for a "real job", had as much control over my hours as was possible. My old role model and mentor, Fry Pan Jack, would be pleased. Also that summer, I would help organize a free clinic at our local, Catholic Worker run soup kitchen, along with a few other volunteers. The Terros Hotline had pretty well run out of energy and volunteers, by the early 1980's; it's mission seemed to have been filled by other agencies.

The next couple of years passed quickly, lots of summer travel. Strider would be repainted and seat recovered at 239,000 miles, along with a new gearbox and 3rd over (thank you, Capital Cycle) pistons. A very pleasant time, until 1988, the beginning of the International Years.

To be continued.... Matt Parkhouse