As well as being a short bio. This is a jumping off point to other Clean & sober Biker & recovery related pages. Hope ya like what ya see. Let me know.
To see what we did at the Survivors
2000 Bass Lake Run in June, 2000
3rd. Legacy Buck Meadows run in May or check out
other clubs or sobriety related sites at Links
Hi, I'm Turtle. I go slow & wear armor. Of course slow is a relative thing.
90 will do in a pinch!
I ride a '95 Kawasaki Vulcan 1500A, my 11th. Sobriety birthday present to myself. Check the changes I've made and belong to B.A.D M/C (Bikers Against Drugs) a Clean & Sober motorcycle club in the San Francisco East Bay area.
WHAT IT WAS LIKE
I'm the son of an alcoholic and it wasn't gonna happen to me. After two years in the service of my country, doing my part. I felt that I had two years of playtime coming. I got a job, bought a Harly, joined a club and went a little crazy. I got into drugs & alcohol and as result spent the next twenty years fu.king up my life.
I worked for the phone company, making good money
until I took some acid & walked off the job for one in a disco. I finally
got tired of that seen and wanted to get my life in order so I went to
work for a bank in the computer section. This was in the early 70's and
computers took up whole buildings.
Any way life was coming together. I had a wife, house, TR4, basket case Harly and a career. Still doing whatever drugs came down the line. I got heavy into the corporate culture, which included alcohol at every turn. I became such a drunk that I don't know why they didn't fire me. Finally I'd had enough of that sh.t; coped an attitude and went to build oil tanks in Texas. When that didn't pan out, back I came to the Bay Area.
Next I went to work for a Van conversion company, doing custom paint, smoking dope to enhance my creativity. I got a chance to do a side job on a big rig. Decided that I was being ripped off for my talent and began doing custom paint in my garage. What with the speed, dope & alcohol and really no money coming in. The wife woman finally had enough and wanted a trial separation. Not good enough for me, I told her to get a divorce and she did. I really thought she was a bi.ch. for that, at the time. So I showed her and walked away from everything. Later, I understood that she had to save her own life.
Now of course I had a real good excuse to run wild and drank & drugged my way through the next nine years. Basically, thinking of nothing except how to score & when down far enough how to get $1.29 for a bottle of Relska. My last real "good" job was at SF. Muni, in the body shop, repairing streetcars. Now Muni was a drunk's dream job, or so it seemed at the time. We had Coffee Royal before work & at first break. Lunch was always at a bar and we broke out the booze for real at the second brake. We'd drink & play Backgammon until quitting time. I didn't get fired even though I should have, but they weren't sorry to see me go either.
In '81 I was living with a disabled woman and being paid
a small stipend to take care of her by the state. She was my drinking buddy
at the time and every once in a while we'd try to get sober for a time.
During one of these tries I had a seizure and went to the Vet's. Who thought
I might have an alcohol problem and should go to AA. After four months
sobriety in AA I decided to have a drink and was out for four months.
My counselor decided that I was a hard case and needed a program so she
pulled some strings got me into Martinez for rehab. After 28 days there,
I went to Sun Rise House in Concord for three months more. This time I
was sober for 18 months. Things were looking good for me. I was working,
in school to be a nurse and at the top of my class. (We, drunks ain't stupid
once we get dry). That's when the voice in my head told me I could have
"just one". That "one" became an 18 month run, at the end of which I had
lost it all again. So here I was, living on my brothers largest. Staying
in my room with the curtains drawn, the TV on for noise, drinking, reading
Taylor Cadwell, crying and being kept company by a bag of barf.
By Christmas of '85 I'd gotten as low as I ever want to get. I wrapped everything I had of any value, put them under the tree when no one was looking and put a note on my door stating that their presents were under the tree, that I hated Christmas and to leave me alone. They must have taken me at my word or at least I think they did. The last thing I remember was watching football the Sunday before Christmas, then waking up the Friday after
That's when I had what I call a Spiritual experience. I realized that I wasn't going to die for a good long time and that I had two choices. Choice one: continue to drink & drug and end up a miserable old drunk, sleeping in a skid row doorway with my only friend a bottle. (Not very attractive) Or choice two: Get sober, go back to the program and develop a decent life. I chose option two.
I knew I was in deep sh.t and asked my brother to get me to a detox. He got me to the A street detox in Hayward. I spent the next three days reading, smoking and growling at anyone who came near. I finely got to be somewhat human and asked to go to a program. The councilor told me that I didn't need another program because had been to one and knew what I had to do if I wanted to stay sober. They were going to let me out on New Years eve of 1985 but I asked to stay an extra two days so I would not be tempted by the celebrations going on and they let me.
So, there I was, detoxed, without a job and back
in the program. Berkeley had 6:15Am. Meetings in those days and I went
every morning for the next two years. I had a trade, all-be-it not a well
paid one, taking care of disabled people. I went to CIL, told them everything
and pleaded my case for going back to work. Must have sounded good as I
got a job as a live in attendant for a quad. The only problem was that
this guy put away a 5th. of vadka a day. I thought I could pour
his booze and not want it myself. By the end of three months, I was drunk.
The reason I know my Sobriety date is that I was re-introduced to my least
favorite "higher powers" cops, judges and jailers on April 9th.
1986. Busted for all things, drunk bicycle riding.
WHAT IT'S LIKE NOW
The higher Power has been good to me in sobriety. When I started on the road to recovery in '86, I had nothing and no one. I've gone from being single, working for minimum wage taking care of disabled people, drinking & smoking dope. To owing my own building refurbishing business. From being next to homeless (I was always able to find one more Co) to owning a house & having a wife (gifts of the program). I just paid off the wife's car and paid off my truck last year. The bike gets paid off next year. I've gone from no credit to having enough to get into trouble behind it. (Still an addict) The main difference today is that being sober, I can do something about it.
All this, has been given me by the Benevolent God of Addicts, who wants only good things for me. For those of you who have "HigherPower issues". I have two ways to look at it. See if you can relate.
First of all, aside form drugs & alcohol, when I drink, I automatically get three "negative higher powers" Cops, Judges & jailers. If I don't pay my bills, my creditors can make my life miserable. If I except that these are higher powers, then I can except that there must be one "Higher Power" that wants good things for me. When I 'm smart enough to see what its putting in front of my face and act on the chances given me. Life is good.
If that doesn't work for you, try this on for size. When
I was just turning 17 in '64. I had an Uncle that I really admired and
in who's footsteps, I thought, I wanted to follow. He was a high powered
fellow and had joined the Marine reserve while still in high school. So
I was going to do the same. When I called Treasure Island to speak with
a recruiter. The Marine recruiter wasn't there and I talked with a Sea
Bee recruiter instead. Now the Sea Bees are the Navy's construction arm
and I was planning to be an Architect. The recruiter filled my head with
visions of hitting the beach under fire, building hospitals & run ways,
all the while fighting off the enemy. Being young & foolish I signed
up. I went on active duty after high school in '65, asked for a unit going
to Viet Nam and got it. I spent a year in Nam and never had to fire a shot.
My Higher Power gave me the chance to go to war, look at it from the edges
and decide if I really wanted to jump in with both feet or not. Iescape
the head-trips that other Vets. ended up with. My Higher Power knew better
than I did what was good for me. I'm sure that anyone,
who looks at their life, can find instances like this. Where they wanted
to do something, which wasn't good for them, but got diverted onto another
channel by luck or happenstance.
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