“ Yeah , I get it ,” Russ confirmed . We were nursing our beers and private thoughts when
Becky came into the man cave . “ Why are you two looking so glum ?” she questioned . “ Russ misses riding off-road in Ouray with his father and wants me to go with him .” “ Okay , just don ’ t get hurt ,” Becky suggested . With that blessing , I made a verbal contract with Russ , saying that we would not ride fast , chase each other , and only trail ride . If anyone came up behind to challenge us , we agreed to let them pass , and meander slowly , enjoying the scenery .
I found a 2001 Suzuki DRZ400 on Craigslist , pampered by the 70-year-old owner . We spent four days riding over the passes to Silverton , Telluride , and back to Ouray . The hot springs were a welcome end to the day . We went again the following year , but by the third year , Russ had found a love interest , that changed his priorities . I rolled the DRZ into a corner of the man cave .
A year later , I received an email from a fellow Colorado Norton Motorcycle club member , named Tom , asking if anyone in the club wanted to adopt an Australian Shepherd that had found its way to Tom ’ s remote home near Creston , Colorado . The dog ’ s owner was pressured by his mom to let someone else have him . We had recently lost our dog , Sky , who died after eating chickenjerky strips , we were interested in a replacement mutt .
Deacon , previously named Maynard , was very mangy and was led to us , tethered by a leash and collar made from those double-loop chains found on swing sets , and wired together .
“ Be careful , he ’ s a runner ,” said the young man . “ I never could get him to fetch a ball .”
Deacon ’ s second year of life consisted of being left outside on a leash line , and his only shelter was a metal culvert that was open on one end . Deacon would run away , mainly when prompted by thunderstorms and lightning . A metal doghouse offered no isolation from ground propagated lightning strikes . He would eat rabbit and elk droppings and flies , and any other gross things he could find to survive .
When Tom discovered the dog at his front door , he had stapled “ Dog Found ” flyers on power poles to find the owner . The owner ’ s mother had seen the announcements and told her son , who called Tom . “ How long has he been lost ?” asked Tom . “ Over a month ,” said the boy . He had never bothered to put up “ Lost Dog ” posters .
Deacon needed no coercion jumping into our pickup with us . He stood in the rear seat of my truck with his muzzle resting on my right shoulder , looking out the windshield . He did that for two hours . We immediately bonded , and he learned to fetch the second day .
In short time Deacon became quite handsome . In the meantime , I had decided to see if the battery in the DRZ was still charged ( it wasn ’ t ) on the prospect of selling it .
After charging it overnight , I filled it up with fresh gas and wheeled it out to the driveway . Deacon was following me everywhere , and when I sat on the motorcycle and started it , he became quite animated , doing a full-body wag . I didn ’ t know if he was concerned that I was going somewhere without him or liked the rumble of an idling thumper . I looked down at him , and he looked up at me . “ You want to come up here , Deacon ?”, I questioned . He immediately leapt up onto the saddle in front of me and started licking my face . I turned him around , put his front paws over the crossbar and spread his rear legs on either side of the seat . I cautiously rolled out of the driveway and went around the block . No problems . Yet . I was afraid he would jump off at any moment , but even the squirrels and the rabbits could not deter him from the ride . We slowly entered traffic . A couple of yapping dogs sticking their heads out of a car window next to us did little to faze Deacon .
We continued onto a few curvy farm roads , I noticed that Deacon would turn his head in advance of the bend like a real road racer .
At first , semi-trucks passing made him sit up , as did the wildlife that crossed the road . Deacon would stay on until I stopped the motor , but soon we had to learn some new commands to stay on the bike .
I soon migrated to a light street-legal 2014 KTM 500XCW equipped with a Wolfman tank bag and a KTM Powersports handlebar pad for Deacon to grip . The 500 was much lighter to lift , and the EFI and 6-speed transmission were better suited for riding in the high Rocky Mountains .
The rides would bring one question more than any , “ Do you tie him down ?”
My response always to the negative . If I fall , he needs an escape path , so I don ’ t land on him .
Deacon became quite adept at anticipating when I would falter on a hill climb , and tilt over . He would bail out ahead of me , then turn around and watch me struggle to pick up the bike , his tail wagging . That was fun , let ’ s do it again !
If the trail looked like another 20 kilograms on the bike might make it more difficult , I would say , “ Go , go , go !” He would charge up the hill to the top , then lay down and watch me work my way up the rise .
When an old Navy friend bought a KTM690 I did likewise , and it was the best thing that ever happened to me and Deacon .
First , there was no gas tank in the front . Deacon could sit closer to the handlebars , which put me in a standard riding position , saving my aching back from leaning
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