Looking for adventure

By Barry Vitcov

It’s hard to get the Steppenwolf lyrics out of your head when a group of motorcyclists roar by:
“Get your motor runnin’/ Head out on the highway/ Lookin’ for adventure/ And whatever comes our way.” The spirit of that 1968 anthem lives within Chris Smits’s poem “Bikers.” Let’s take a ride with his free-flowing poem which captures the energy of the open road.

Thanks to those of you who have already submitted poems to the Poetry Corner. Your support has helped to expand the reach of poetry throughout Southern Oregon. And, from what we’ve heard, even beyond!

Recently, a local poet, suggested that we might help celebrate the 90th anniversary of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival with poetry. Of course, we are fortunate to live in a community rich in theater offerings: OSF, Rogue Theater Company, Cabaret Theater, Camelot Theater, Collaborative Theatre Project, Barnstormers Theater and other smaller theater companies, including our university and high school programs.

So, how about it? Let’s use OSF’s 90th Anniversary to celebrate the richness of live theater in Southern Oregon.

Submissions may be sent to [email protected]

Bikers

By Chris Smits

I never see them coming…
As I travel north, or south, cruising along I5, listening to Alison Krauss, or the Beach
Boys, or Vivaldi…
Suddenly they are next to me, streaming by, two by two, riding fast and hard in precise
formation…
Black leather jackets, with patches and rockers proclaiming their clan, black locomotive
boots, black helmets, black stripped-down Harleys, with a touch of chrome here and
there…
Roaring by, blasting me with not so much noise as sheer power, rocking my car, passing
by inches away…a wave of intense energy flowing along with them….
They leave a scent of clean-burned high octane fuel, those engines are running right.
They know what they are doing….

Nomads, Druids, One Percenters, you will know who they are…dark angels sweeping
down the highway, all other vehicles parting the way before them, as the Red Sea parted
before Moses….
And sometimes I see the darker angels, the Angels from Hell, the ones of legend, the
Rolling Stones at Altamont, the drugs, the rituals, the secrecy….Back in the day I hung
out with one or two of them, they told stories, maybe they were true. They said it was all
true.
They knew what they were doing.
Keep up, stay up, they say. If you want to ride with them, you need to keep up and stay
up…..not many can.
Their Harleys are quieter than the others, more purposeful….they are finely built and
highly tuned machines, they run fast and hard
They know what they are doing.
Sometimes I catch up with them at a rest stop or a gas station….big, bear-like guys
gathered in tight circles around their bikes, talking, laughing, sharing tales of this ride and
others in the past. They are a family, there is trust, and respect and belonging, things that

many of them never had in their other lives, their civilian lives. There is a shared code of
how things will be. This is how they deal with life, and find some joy, some meaning to it
all.
They know what they are doing.

Christopher Smits lives in Talent, Oregon, out near the western hills, surrounded by open farmland. He has many interests, including aircraft restoration, old motorcycles, classic cars, running a rest home for wayward sailboats, and quite by accident, writing. He has written poetry, several short stories, and is threatening to finish a couple of novels. Originally from England, Chris grew up in the Bay Area, amidst cherry orchards, and the Grateful Dead. He has a BS in Marketing, and an MBA, and is still wondering why he did that. Now retired, or so they tell him, Chris is busier than ever getting a farm up and running, learning guitar, and getting a 1977 Porsche 911 Targa back on the road.

Poetry Submissions Welcomed!

You are invited to submit original work to the Poetry Corner. There are only two restrictions: First, poems need to show a connection to Ashland and/or Southern Oregon. Your interpretation of that connection is fairly loose! Second, poems need to be aligned to the left margin. The publishing platform used by Ashland.news has issues with the creative use of space! There are no length restrictions but try to keep your poems to no more than 30 lines. Be sure to include the title of your poem, your name as you would like it to appear, the city or town in which you reside, and, if you wish, your preferred pronouns.

To submit poems, send to Barry Vitcov at [email protected].