Today was Mikes Orange, BlackPepper, cedar wood. Long name but very descriptive for a soap that smells like……orange, black pepper, and cedar. I still have the original craft paper tin and unlike other tins, this one has not shown any inclination to rust. I have refilled it once and will again as long as the craft paper label holds up. Great soap from a hermetic maker.
I’m final-editing a 453 page tome right now and as I shaved the smell of cedar wood reminded me of my childhood ranch home and a story of how I learned to ride a bike in a land of gravel roads and dirt paths. Yeah, I was a better bronc rider than I was a two wheeler. I’ll post that story for you after the shave pic.
I learned to ride a bicycle in Elba Idaho, a place with no sidewalks and very limited hard surfaced roads/paths. In fact the only asphalt road was the highway that came over Connor Summit, through Elba, and south to Almo. Shoot, we didn’t even own a bike. I was about 6 years old and for some reason we were over to Uncle Keith’s house. I assume it must have been cattle business because Dad was in the house a long time. Long enough that I got to hunting something to keep me occupied. There was a little red bike leaning against the house and having never been straddle of a bike before I climbed on board. It was likely too small for me but I didn’t know any better and I started messing around with the bike. The tires were solid rubber so going over the rocks in Uncle Keith’s lane was jolting and I wrecked a lot. In fact I’d never made it even one peddle around. Keith and Vivian had a small porch on the front of their house and it was smooth cement. One side of course was bounded by the front of the house and the other by a baluster railing. The porch was concrete because one room in the house was the US Post Office and it probably would not have been fitting to have flagstones as an entrance. The porch was about 15 ft long and 3 ft wide. I’d get on the bike, back it up to the wall of the north room and launch myself along the porch with me feet. I had to be very careful not to get close to the front window for fear of breaking it but the balusters were hard on knuckles too. I guess I was out there for an hour or so, backing up and launching forward when all at once the ” balance” thing clicked and I was able to get my feet on the peddle and push them around for a revolution before the end of the porch. I did that a few more times until a near miss on the front window convinced me I needed more room so I tried the lane again but it was rough and super stoney so I went over the cattle guard and out onto the gravel road that ran east to west out in front of the house. Well, it was a rough ride too but before long I was peddling down towards Barker’s place and got to where I could turn around and go the other way. Dad was super surprised to see me riding and I was proud but confused as to why he would be so surprised. We didn’t have a bike at home so that was the end of my riding career for awhile but my Birthday was in a few weeks and Dad surprised me with a new Murray bike. It was purple and had a banana seat and high rise handlebars and tires with air in them. I peddled her around the yard and was struck with how smooth the ride was. Ever bolder, I decided to ride my bike up to the mailbox on the highway and ride it back down the hill to the house. The lane was long. Maybe a quarter of a mile. It was also on a pretty good slope down to the house so I had no problem building speed. By the time I got to the house I was under a full head of steam and that’s when I hit the loose gravel! My front tire climbed out from under me and I went over the handlebars. The hand grip lodged itself firmly in my groin as the wreck came to a halt in a cloud of dust. I was sick. Sick and hurting and I couldn’t breath right. I thought for sure I was leaving this world as I lay there feeling like I had a branding iron in my guts. I truly did think this was the end of me and was too sick to cry and too hurt to move and so just waited for the end. After a couple of minutes though things started to look brighter and I realized I was not going to die but I still had no idea of how hurt I was. I also remember thinking the bike was probably destroyed but as my wind came back and the red hot poker in my belly cooled off I was able to sit up, then stand up, then walk around and assess. My bike looked fine. My pants weren’t ripped. I scuffed a boot but that was ok. I wasn’t bleeding heavily although I was scratched up a bit but there was still a knot in my guts. I was through riding bikes for that day. I got back on her the next day quite a bit wiser and a ton more cautious. I’ve ridden thousands of miles since in several countries. And the next time I took a shot to the pills I was more expert on diagnosing my nearness to death.
I’m final-editing a 453 page tome right now and as I shaved the smell of cedar wood reminded me of my childhood ranch home and a story of how I learned to ride a bike in a land of gravel roads and dirt paths. Yeah, I was a better bronc rider than I was a two wheeler. I’ll post that story for you after the shave pic.
I learned to ride a bicycle in Elba Idaho, a place with no sidewalks and very limited hard surfaced roads/paths. In fact the only asphalt road was the highway that came over Connor Summit, through Elba, and south to Almo. Shoot, we didn’t even own a bike. I was about 6 years old and for some reason we were over to Uncle Keith’s house. I assume it must have been cattle business because Dad was in the house a long time. Long enough that I got to hunting something to keep me occupied. There was a little red bike leaning against the house and having never been straddle of a bike before I climbed on board. It was likely too small for me but I didn’t know any better and I started messing around with the bike. The tires were solid rubber so going over the rocks in Uncle Keith’s lane was jolting and I wrecked a lot. In fact I’d never made it even one peddle around. Keith and Vivian had a small porch on the front of their house and it was smooth cement. One side of course was bounded by the front of the house and the other by a baluster railing. The porch was concrete because one room in the house was the US Post Office and it probably would not have been fitting to have flagstones as an entrance. The porch was about 15 ft long and 3 ft wide. I’d get on the bike, back it up to the wall of the north room and launch myself along the porch with me feet. I had to be very careful not to get close to the front window for fear of breaking it but the balusters were hard on knuckles too. I guess I was out there for an hour or so, backing up and launching forward when all at once the ” balance” thing clicked and I was able to get my feet on the peddle and push them around for a revolution before the end of the porch. I did that a few more times until a near miss on the front window convinced me I needed more room so I tried the lane again but it was rough and super stoney so I went over the cattle guard and out onto the gravel road that ran east to west out in front of the house. Well, it was a rough ride too but before long I was peddling down towards Barker’s place and got to where I could turn around and go the other way. Dad was super surprised to see me riding and I was proud but confused as to why he would be so surprised. We didn’t have a bike at home so that was the end of my riding career for awhile but my Birthday was in a few weeks and Dad surprised me with a new Murray bike. It was purple and had a banana seat and high rise handlebars and tires with air in them. I peddled her around the yard and was struck with how smooth the ride was. Ever bolder, I decided to ride my bike up to the mailbox on the highway and ride it back down the hill to the house. The lane was long. Maybe a quarter of a mile. It was also on a pretty good slope down to the house so I had no problem building speed. By the time I got to the house I was under a full head of steam and that’s when I hit the loose gravel! My front tire climbed out from under me and I went over the handlebars. The hand grip lodged itself firmly in my groin as the wreck came to a halt in a cloud of dust. I was sick. Sick and hurting and I couldn’t breath right. I thought for sure I was leaving this world as I lay there feeling like I had a branding iron in my guts. I truly did think this was the end of me and was too sick to cry and too hurt to move and so just waited for the end. After a couple of minutes though things started to look brighter and I realized I was not going to die but I still had no idea of how hurt I was. I also remember thinking the bike was probably destroyed but as my wind came back and the red hot poker in my belly cooled off I was able to sit up, then stand up, then walk around and assess. My bike looked fine. My pants weren’t ripped. I scuffed a boot but that was ok. I wasn’t bleeding heavily although I was scratched up a bit but there was still a knot in my guts. I was through riding bikes for that day. I got back on her the next day quite a bit wiser and a ton more cautious. I’ve ridden thousands of miles since in several countries. And the next time I took a shot to the pills I was more expert on diagnosing my nearness to death.
(06-21-2023, 12:35 PM)Dave in KY Wrote: Wednesday June 21, 2023I have a sir Henry’s eternasoap base too. Excellent choice!
Razor: Yates 921 "H" Plate/Nodachi Handle
Blade: Wizamet
Brush: Knothead "The Kentuckian"/Timberwolf
Soap: Kentucky Rain by Sir Henry's
AS 1: Witch Hazel
AS 2: Ethos Tortola SFS
Fragrance:
Consecutive Daily Shaves - # 1,689
Well with all the rain going on around here I decided this was an appropriate choice for this mornings shave. Back to running thru my Ethos scents tomorrow. Woke to water being out and the wife says she noticed when up briefly at 1 am. Shaved from a bowl of water as we are used to this and keep jugs of clean water to use on these occassions. LOVE this scent that keeps growing on me and I think the soap keeps growing in the tub as I've hit it pretty hard and doesn't appear to have dropped from the rim it was filled to. I think dominicr should get a Patent on this "growing soap in the tub" formula. Great shave and drinking some coffee before heading out. Have a great day folks !
(06-22-2023, 03:44 PM)Lipripper660 Wrote:Thanks, good to know it's not just me(06-21-2023, 12:35 PM)Dave in KY Wrote: Wednesday June 21, 2023I have a sir Henry’s eternasoap base too. Excellent choice!
Razor: Yates 921 "H" Plate/Nodachi Handle
Blade: Wizamet
Brush: Knothead "The Kentuckian"/Timberwolf
Soap: Kentucky Rain by Sir Henry's
AS 1: Witch Hazel
AS 2: Ethos Tortola SFS
Fragrance:
Consecutive Daily Shaves - # 1,689
Well with all the rain going on around here I decided this was an appropriate choice for this mornings shave. Back to running thru my Ethos scents tomorrow. Woke to water being out and the wife says she noticed when up briefly at 1 am. Shaved from a bowl of water as we are used to this and keep jugs of clean water to use on these occassions. LOVE this scent that keeps growing on me and I think the soap keeps growing in the tub as I've hit it pretty hard and doesn't appear to have dropped from the rim it was filled to. I think dominicr should get a Patent on this "growing soap in the tub" formula. Great shave and drinking some coffee before heading out. Have a great day folks !
This post by Dave in KY mentions views and opinions expressed and makes it known that they are "those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of DFS or any other member, agency, organization, employer or company."
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