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Coming to Cochise County 11-11-11,

Mike Jones, writer, producer and maker of two Harley Oriented CDs will host a special screening of Born to Ride in Tombstone!

BIKER FRIENDLY BARS

Midtown 3686 E. Speedway Blvd.
Tucson, AZ 85716 

520-795-8996 http://www.thebashfulbandit.com

The biker bar that Clay has advertised for and promoted for ten years has 86ed him permanently. He has never had a fight or a problem with anyone in this bar that he is aware of. There was no explanation. Ask them why! We would really like to know.

Party at the Territorial

KNOW WHERE BAR

STOCKMAN'S

ELBOW ROOM

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Exclusive Agent for Clayton R. Douglas, Free American, Thunder Riders, Liberty Villages, CRD Publishing

Contact H. Helms  PO Box 86254  Tucson, AZ  85754 

Phones 520-413-2397 &  505-908-9498

Clayton Douglas’ commentaries are copyrighted and may be republished, reposted, or emailed providing the person or organization doing so does not charge for subscriptions or advertising and that the column is copied intact and that full credit is given and that Clay's web site address is included (http://freeamerican.com). Editors or Publishers of publications charging for subscriptions or advertising who want to run these columns must contact Clayton R. Douglas for permission and payment. Radio or television Talk Show Hosts interested in scheduling an interview with Clay should contact clay@freeamerican.com. CRD Publishing is now located at 3331 N. Dodge, Tucson AZ 85716 505-908-9498 and controlled by Horace Helms Holdings.

PRESS RELEASE

Source: Clayton R. Douglas, Publisher of the Free American Magazine since 1994, host of the Free American Website and Radio Show and spokesman for the American Constitutional Militias which grew out of the New Mexico Militia Movement started by Clayton Douglas.

A Challenge to the United States Press.

I am a professional writer, author, publisher, broadcaster and reporter for over 25 years. I volunteered for Vietnam at 17. I have interviewed some of the most Controversial, Intelligent, and Knowledgeable authors, law enforcement, military personnel,  and Constitutionalists in this country and from all over the world. I have been demonized and called Anti-Government, and now, a Right Wing Extremist and a Conspiracy Theorist by the Department of Homeland Security.

I am a Veteran still loyal to my oath and my country. If you think I am an Extremist, a potential Terrorist, a Racist, Anti-government radical, have me on one of your shows and expose me and my views to your audience and see what they think of my years of research and conclusions. I hand delivered a bundle of my last issue of the Free American Magazine to the Albuquerque FBI Office. I provided a copy for every agent in the building. I walked out a free man.

A report just came in from Craig Roberts

 I just now watched CBS news show a segment on how over 50 "new militia training camps" have sprung up across the nation. Just like we saw in the 90s, the "news" pukes have inflated a story to try and inflame the average couch potato.     They said that: "Fifty new militia training camps have sprung up across the nation in the wake of Obama being elected," (How do they know?)  Ammo and guns are flying off the shelves (correct);  Right wing radicals are arming themselves to the teeth (hey, even right wing not-so-radicals are too!) It will only take a spark to start a rebellion (that part might be true)

Most of this is because Obama is black (BS! He's a friggin' commie/socialist!)

Source (get ready...) Southern Poverty Law Center!

In case you don't know who this gang is, it is a leftie lawyer named Morris Dees and his radical commie staff in Birmingham, Alabama, who make their millions by "watching" the KKK and other groups, then writing newsletters and selling subscriptions to the gullible. Dees raises money through fear tactics and dumps all his "intelligence reports" on law enforcement, FBI, DOJ, and all news agencies. Dees is also a pervert and was divorced by his first wife for sexual perversion and child molestation. But the Dems love him! (Big surprise).

                I ran into his disinfo when I was investigating the OKC bombing, and his garbage about Elohim City being involved along with the neo-Nazi movement was a total diversion from the facts that we were discovering in the field. It derailed the investigation, and probably on purpose since he and his SPLC was in bed with the Reno/Clinton "Justice" department.

                Get ready. The media is ramping up for more propaganda on armed Americans and the 2nd Amendment.

                They will also use this stuff as excuses for more money for internal security and probably a civilian security force/informants etc

Note: Morris Dees was responsible for the set up and incarceration of Casey Nethercott of Douglas, Arizona. Dees began scheming against Nethercott after he learned Nethercott was interested in backing the Free American after Clay’s Accident. The Theft of his 70 acre ranch in Douglas by Dees on the behalf of two lying illegals was featured on 60 Minutes last year. Dees had earlier listed Clayton in his Publication entitled, “False Patriots” that listed Presidential Candidate Charles Collins in 1996 and more recently accused supporters of Candidates Ron Paul and Chuck Baldwin of being “Potential Terrorists”  through Missouri’s “Fusion Center MIAC.

Here's a look at the wild and wonderful world of motorcycles.

Brough Superior motorcycles were made in Nottingham , England from 1919 until 1940 and were known as 'the Rolls Royce
of motorcycles.' Very expensive at the time, they were available only to the wealthy. This model dates from 1931.



T.. E. Lawrence , better known as Lawrence of Arabia, owned several of these machines and died from his injuries after
crashing on one in 1935. Another beautiful bike is this Imme ( Germany ), with a single side suspension.

The Beartooth Highway

2305 words By Clayton R. Douglas E-mail – clay@freeamerican.com

                It was about 4PM and the odometer on the Road King read 250 miles as we pulled into the parking lot to see “Old Faithful” with about a million tourists. 

      We had left Billings, Montana, at 9:00 in the morning, determined to see the famous geyser and as much of Yellowstone as we could in between. The ratio of bikes to cars was considerably higher than average, especially for a Tuesday. Thousands of bikers had taken the same detour on their way to Bike Week over in Sturgis, South Dakota. They were no problem; it was the gawking tourists in four wheelers who had never seen animals grazing on the sides of the roads, had made the ride less than pleasant. . .they never bothered to pull over, they just stopped in the middle of the road!

                We live in the middle of Nowhere, New Mexico, and see more wild game before breakfast than a tourist will ever see in a National Park. So we were more interested in the natural phenomena; like spouting geysers, bubbling water and noxious smelling sulfur pits.  Well, yes, the scenery was pretty, the lakes serene and blue. But I found it a little unnerving to realize that all of that volcanic activity meant that this was once, and still was, an active volcano.

                Now Yellowstone has always been high on my list of places to see.  None of my travels had brought me up this way until a sister-in-law moved to Billings.  So here I sat with the in-laws, with a whole day of virtually nothing to do that absolutely had to be done! So we decided to take the ride!

                Looking at the map (one of those cheap, truck-stop editions) I came to the conclusion we could make it from Billings to Yellowstone on the bike in just a few hours.  My in-laws (who were undoubtedly just glad to get me out of the house) said nothing to dispel that delusion.

                They had even helped me plan our route!

                “It’s better to go there by way of the East entrance and then come back by way of Red Lodge.  That way it’s almost all down hill,” my mother-in-law said with an innocent air.

                She didn’t tell us that the way to Red Lodge is by way of the Beartooth Highway.

                And it was true... most of it was downhill…straight down hill. And a long damn way up the hill to go down!

                The trip down through Cody was uneventful.  We ate lunch there then rode the seventy or so miles to Yellowstone, paid the fifteen dollars to get into the park, and took our time going south around the loop to arrive, much later than we planned, at the lodge by Old Faithful.  We had about an hour to kill until the next scheduled eruption. 

                A Café Mocha later, we walked around the famous landmark, mingling with other tourists and a few bikers. I struck up a conversation with a HOG member from Billings and in the course, asked him if his group was going home by way of Red Lodge and would they like to ride with us.

                The whole group turned to stare at me.

                “Are you crazy? We’re going home by way of Cody.”

                “But we just came that way. That’s the long way.” I said naively.

                One of the women looked at me with the look usually reserved for terminal cancer patients. “That’s the Beartooth Highway. You don’t ride the Beartooth Highway after dark,” she said matter-of-factly and with a finality that allowed for no argument.

                My wife looked at me a little apprehensively but knew that I have this quirk about going back, period.  If we forgot it, forget it, we ain’t going back.  Missed the turn, never mind, there has to be another one soon. Back track, not on your life.  Been there, seen that, got to go some place new.

                I tried to reassure her. “Don’t worry babe, it stays light late way up here in Montana.”

                “”We’re in Wyoming,” she pointed out.

                “That still counts as a Northern State.” I wisely kept my mouth shut about that 250 mile odometer reading ‘cause she was already talking about her butt being a tad tender!

I guess the fact that the whole group quit talking to me should have counted as an ominous sign.

Even more ominous was the sign at the turnoff to Red Lodge that said, “Pass Closed” 

I figured it must have been a mistake, someone had just forgot to change after the snow had melted.  Just to be sure, I stopped a jogger. Don’t even ask me why I thought a jogger would know anything about road conditions. . . but she did.

                “Oh, that’s up ‘cause a truck ran off the road.  They’re supposed to have it cleared by now.”

                That was good enough for me.  The only other choice was to go north to Livingston and then take the Interstate back to Billings. . .but we had been down that road once.

                I was picturing a pickup hanging on the side of a mountain, and a wrecker or two pulling him up. But when we got to Cooke City we learned that the situation was a little more complicated than that. Seems a thirty wheeler or some such vehicle, much longer than your regular semi, loaded with one of those giant machines that lay asphalt on roads, had run off the Coulter Pass at 8:30 that morning.  At 6:00 in the evening, when we pulled into Silver Gate, four giant wreckers, tons of earth-moving equipment and all the King’s men, had not been able to pull the truck back up on the road.  The tiny town of Silver Gate was vastly over-populated with tourists and bikers.  The bars and restaurants were doing a great business, all of the four motels were displaying “No Vacancy” signs and those hundreds of people were the lucky ones.  On the other side of the mountain were more hundreds of people, some of which had been sitting in their cars for up to six hours, with no bars or restaurants at all!

                The difference, someone once said, between an adventure and an ordeal is your attitude.  So we wheeled the bike around, returned to Silver Gate and ordered the best filet mignon from the best restaurant in town.

                Around seven o’clock, with a couple of hours of light left, vehicles we had never seen started streaming in from the direction of the pass.   We paid our bill, tipped the waitress well and quietly slipped out before the rest of the town realized the road was finally open.

                Now the rest of the story is really the best but words can’t really convey the experience.  You have to ride the highway, feel the chill at 11,000 feet on what had been a hot August night, watch the road drop off about four thousand feet just inches from your front tire as you lay your bike into a turn that you have never been on before.

                You see, the HOG member from Billings and his wife were absolutely right in their description of the twisting, winding, dangerous road that is the Beartooth Highway. The Beartooth Pass tops it off at 10,947 feet. It is a long way up to the barren, treeless tops of the mountains.

To me, it wasn’t the worst road I have ever been on, it was the best!

                Every one is different and we all ride for different reasons.  To me, a windy road is a test of my skill.  Could I judge the curves just right? How quickly could I pass a frightened tourist before another switchback loomed.

                Past the last signs of civilization, through the blocked Coulter Pass measuring a mere 8,040 feet, I began to mutter the praise of my bike, a 97 Road King that never balked, even as we neared the 11,000 foot. The uninitiated might have called it a prayer.

The Beartooth is one of those legendary roads, like Highway 1 or Spearfish Canyon.  It was a challenge. It was an experience of a lifetime. It was an adventure. . . but it could have been another man’s ordeal.

                It was an ordeal to many of the bikes and cars we passed.  They were taking it slow and easy. Too slow for me. I passed them all on the way up. . .except for one.

                A handsome couple on another Harley followed my lead, passing everyone else, staying with us as we climbed the Beartooth.  He was a great rider and managed to stay right on my tail, a safe distance back where I could watch them in my rearview mirror.

                We had wisely leathered up after eating.  We climbed and climbed and yet, every time we came around another curve, we could see the lights of the first wave of cars that had been let through, miles ahead of us and thousands of feet above.  As the light faded, it looked like the red tail lights were spaceships, climbing into the heavens.

                We climbed way above the tree line.  The landscape looked like the surface of the moon.  Patches of snow glistened in the twilight. Still, we climbed.  Moths by the thousands flickered eerily through our lights, sacrificing themselves upon my windshield.

                It was then that I noticed , somewhere along the way, our riding companions disappeared.  I felt a twinge of uneasiness.  Could they have missed one of the turns?  Should I go back to check on them, these strangers who had followed me up the Beartooth?

I decided against going back.  In retrospect, sitting at the typewriter, it sounds kind of callous.  But there were a multitude of reasons we didn’t.  First of all, we didn’t know them, and except for the last few miles, had never ridden with them before.  Second of all, there were a lot of other motorcyclists and motorists we had left behind.  If they had mechanical trouble, someone behind us would have helped them.

There had been no signal of trouble from them, they had just disappeared from my mirror somewhere along the curves. We were still many miles from the nearest town and even further to our bed in Billings.  Finally, I reasoned, this guy was good, too good to go down. 

Yet in the back of my mind, even the next day, as I was leaving the in-laws for Sturgis, there was the question, “what if?”.  Another month or so and this road would be closed for the winter. What if he had gone down on one of those curves and over the hill?  Who would have seen them? Who could have seen them?

We finally crested the hill, the speed limit went up and it was downhill all the way into Red Lodge. We rolled back into Billings near midnight, pried our sore butts off the bike, and waddled to the bedroom.

                “I don’t think I’ve felt this much pain since childbirth,” my old lady said. I knew how she felt. As I got off the bike, I touched the seat and was amazed to find that there was still foam rubber under the leather.  It had felt like concrete to my ass.

                Still, tired as we were from five hundred miles in the saddle, I had survived Beartooth. So as we peeled off layer after layer down there in my sister-in-law’s guest bedroom, I smiled.  “I know how to take the pain away,” I said, as she got down to the bare essentials.

                “But I’m exhausted,” she said.

                But she wasn’t.

That should have been the end of the story. I scanned the paper the next morning before we left but there was nothing in it about a biker going down on the Beartooth.  I supposed the question would have eventually left my mind, like, “wonder what ever happened to that crazy guy riding naked down Main Street?”

                We got into Sturgis on Thursday.  It was raining and there weren’t a lot of people on the street.  We parked along Main Street with hundreds of other bikes, and were walking past a row of porta-potties when a couple standing nearby caught my eye. 

                I don’t know what it was about them.  There were thousands dressed just like them milling around town, checking out t-shirts and leathers. He was blonde with a beard, she was pretty with long brown hair, with nothing really outrageous about them that would attract your eye in the middle of Bike Week.

We looked at each other for a few moments. I spoke first.

                “Were you riding the Beartooth Highway day before yesterday?”

                “Yeah, you got a red bike?               

                “Yeah, I was worried about you.  You were keeping up so well and then you were gone.”

                “We stopped for a smoke.”

                “It was a great ride.”

                “Sure was, Usually, nobody keeps up with me on curves.” He said with an admiring tone.

                My wife turned to me and asked how I had recognized them.

I couldn’t tell her how a couple of quick glances in a rearview mirror had stuck in my mind.  I damn sure couldn’t tell her how we had managed to see them again among the hundreds of thousands of bikers on the streets of Sturgis.

                We smiled at each other and shook our heads. “What are the odds?” I asked.

                He smiled. “You come with people and can never find them here.  We run into each other twice. Go figure.”

                And then they were gone. I never even learned their names or where they were from.

                Maybe, someday, they will read this story of two bikers with nothing in common except for the love of riding and taking the Beartooth Highway into Montana on a cold, dark, August night.

                I hope they write.

Clay Douglas

A Trip Back In Time

Riding New Mexico

Clayton R. Douglas

There are states that are more sparsely populated, but they are too far north to even consider touring comfortably in winter.  There are states that are warmer but are so densely populated as to turn a day trip into a fight for survival on the freeways.

                New Mexico is just a day’s ride from Arizona, Texas, Oklahoma and Colorado, has no helmet law and is like taking a trip back in time.

                Much of the Southwest was like this in the forties and fifties, but progress turned the cow towns into bustling metropolises like Dallas, OKC and Phoenix.  The cowboys took to riding pickups and mechanical bulls and a cosmopolitan air engulfed those once rugged frontiers.

                Somewhere along the rush into the twenty first century, New Mexico, luckily for us, was left behind.

                Leaving Phoenix on for a weeklong tour of New Mexico, we headed for the mountains and Payson for a gradual acclimatization to the high country of New Mexico. Bring your leathers and your long under wear. Dress in layers.  If you are doing this in the winter, you will find that the days are warm and the nights, very, very cold.

                The traffic was heavy between Phoenix and Payson. It stayed that way following Highway 60 until we got past Snowflake, where it began to thin. Plenty of gas stations to choose from in Payson and Snowflake, but be sure to top off your tank when you reach Springerville. You are about to enter a desolate but beautiful land. From here on out, if you see an open gas station, no matter what it looks like, fill up, especially if you are riding late into the evening.

                If you took your time, or left late, it might be a good idea to spend the night in this neighborhood.  There are several motels in Springerville. You may not be so lucky further down the line.  If you’ve packed a picnic lunch, or are planning on camping out under the stars, there is an ideal rest area (no facilities) just inside the New Mexico border, and another campground on the west side of Datil.

                Highway 60 is a good alternate to Interstate 40 further to the north. Once you cross the border of New Mexico, you may feel like you have crossed the barrier of time to a day when seeing an automobile was a rare sight. While the cars may be modern, they are far and few in between.

                Traffic being the least of your worries for the next few days, you can relax and enjoy the road itself, and the magnificent scenery around you.  New Mexico is high country, most of it over a mile high. 

                The small towns you will pass through on this route are Quemado, Pie Town, Datil and Magdelena. As long as you don’t pass this way too late, (Remember most of the folks who have businesses along this route are country folk and are early risers and go to bed shortly after sunset) you can find a quaint, charming café with good, simple food and friendly folk.  You city riders may have to go hungry if you are looking for a Dennys.  There isn’t one until you get to Soccoro.

                Don’t let the run down appearance of the buildings put you off. There won’t be anything that resembles a 7-11 or Circle K or any other sort of franchise for miles.  By the time you get to Datil, you start to understand that New Mexicans like their old familiar buildings.  Sprucing up the place just pads the bankers’ billfolds. The towns are rustic and seemingly empty.  Fact is, most of the “residents” live far off the main road and outside the town.

                Once inside New Mexico, you are in Catron County.  It is known for its reverence for the Constitution and resistance to any forms the federal government might take.   Of late, there has been a great influx of out of state people into this county.  Land sales are booming, as evidenced by the better condition of the buildings and signs of the real estate offices.  More and more people, tired of the cities back East and the government interference in their lives, are migrating here. Catron County is also famous for its elk, which outnumber the people by a good margin.  Another reason NOT to ride at night.

                If you rode at night, it would be hard to appreciate the VLA (Very Large Array).  This is the place made famous by Jodie Foster in the sci-fi thriller “Contact”. This radio telescope consists of twenty-four or more, four story tracking dishes that are moved around by rail to search the skies for signs of intelligent life.  Take some time to investigate this high tech project.

                The next town east is Magdalena. There are a few mines and a ghost town called Kelly just a short ride from town. There are several restaurants and even a convenience store.  It may be getting late in the evening by now and you might want to go the next twenty miles into Socorro.  Socorro means, “help” in Spanish.  It was called that because of the aid given to weary travelers along the Rio Grande’s “Camino Real”.  This was the main thoroughfare between Mexico City and Sante Fe.

Today, Socorro is as close to a big city as you will see before Albuquerque.  There are plenty of motels, restaurants, hardware and grocery stores.  Restock your supplies, replace any bolts that have vibrated loose, get a good night’s sleep and get up early for the next leg of your journey.

                You Dennys lovers can get your Grand Slam here before checking out the “Bosque Del Apache”. Go south out of Socorro, either on Interstate 25 or cut off just before the freeway to go south on NM Highway 1.  Either way, 10 miles south, you will come to US Highway 380 at San Antonio. Go south at the flashing yellow light to the Bosque.  Even if you are not normally bird watchers, the dense flocks of water birds nesting on the marshy banks of the Rio Grande are a spectacle worth seeing. After rubbing wings with our feathered friends, and depending on how long you’ve dallied, you can either enjoy a burger at the Owl Café or Manny’s Burgers in San Antonio.  Check out the little gas station and convenience store.  Remember to top off at every chance. The next leg is 63 miles before you see a gas station again.  You may want to taste the excellent homemade fudge at the counter there.

                Pushing westward along US Highway 380, you will encounter a few residences.  You will pass the entrance to Stallion Range, the North end of White Sands Missile Range.  If you have planned your trip to put you here on the first Saturday of April or October, you will turn right here and be allowed to visit the Trinity Site, where the first Atomic Bomb was exploded.  The gates open to the public only those two days.  The rest of the year, the closest you can get is by stopping off in Bingham, NM.

                Bingham is the closest town to the Trinity Site. At the General Store, you can get see photos and pick up a souvenir mug or T-shirt.  This little store is also the home of this magazine and the Free American Newsmagazine.  Between trips, it is home to this writer also. Across the street, at the Rock Shop, you can buy samples of Trinitite, the slightly radioactive glass created by the blast, along with millions of other rocks and minerals.  If you are into rock collecting, there are mines back off the road and tours available.

                You won’t spend too much time in Bingham.  You’ve seen it all.  If you are a hunter, you will have noticed the herds of antelope grazing alongside the roads by now.  There are also deer in the mountains, close to the mines, elk to the north, cattle galore and an occasional sighting of a beast called an oryx. Imported from Africa, this relative of the deer boasts straight, four-foot horns.  It has an attitude, so don’t expect it to run away from you, should you see one standing in the middle of the road. Come back and camp here next hunting season.

                Just before you get into Carrizozo, you will see massive formations of lava rock. Welcome to the Valley of Fire.  There is camping and picnic tables here. A ranger station will give you more information on this geological wonder.  Imagine what this must have looked like as the molten lava filled the entire valley as it rolled slowly south.  Down the way, miles to the South, is the only place on earth where natural black meets natural white where the lava meets the sparkling white sands of White Sands National Monument. You will have the opportunity to see Whites Sands and more down in Alamogordo, if you choose to go that way tomorrow.  But for today, we are going to take the high road.

                Carrizozo is a good place to fill up once more.  If you want to see more wildlife, guns and antiques, all while eating the best burgers or chopped steak in New Mexico, check out the Outpost Bar and Grill just a few blocks south on Highway 54 or Carrizozo’s main drag.

                Hop back on Highway 380.  There are even more historic towns down the way.  You are now in Lincoln County, home of Billy the Kid and Smokey the Bear.  You can learn more about both in Capitan and Lincoln.  When you have tired of Lincoln, double back to Capitan and follow the road up to Ruidosa or continue on to Tinnie and cut back up to Ruidosa. 

                Ruidoso has skiing, gambling, fine restaurants and scores of beautiful shops.  In September there is a run here, so the town is biker friendly.  You have lodges, cabins and motels galore to choose from.  Stay here a night or a week.  You will notice a large amount of Texas license plates here.  This will account for the ambiance of Ruidoso.  This is the nearest ski resort to Texas and the Texans consider it to be their  town. 

                Here you can make your choice on which way you want to go back.  South takes you through Alamogordo, Las Cruces, and down I-10 to Tucson and Phoenix with side trips to Tombstone and Bisbee.

Or you can go back to Carrizozo and highway 54 and take the back roads up to Albuquerque and Santa Fe.  Along those roads, you can see the ancient Gran Quivara ruins from the days of the Spanish conquest of New Mexico and walk through the church and homes built by the Indians. North of Gran Quivera you will pass through Mountainaire.  Catch Highway 14 north for a great winding road all the way upto I-40.

                Highway 14 bypasses Albuquerque and runs on up to the old coal mining town of Madrid.  The restaurant and bar there is a big attraction to local bikers.  From there it is a short hop up to Santa Fe then an hour back to Albuquerque via I-25. 

                Albuquerque has plenty of Harley shops, Chick’s H-D, Bikers Dream and Easyriders, just to name a few.  Albuquerque is the biggest city in New Mexico but still has a lot of local charm.  From there, it is wide-open highways or more of the back roads to get you back to Arizona.

                After a week or two of Arizona traffic, you will look longingly back on this ride.  Did you keep the card of the Real Estate guy in Datil?

Why Women Should not be Presidents! 

I swear to God that this country is in the trouble we are in because the majority of the people have been so drugged or dumbed down by our controlled mass media hiding propaganda under the guise of Entertainment. This Video was suppose to feature the Sons of Liberty National VP,  Hoss. He was a no show, thanks to the President of the Arizona SOLR, Wendy, who kicked me out of their group after one Sue Ashe, a moron, bitched about me because she thought I was too radical for trying to Free Mark Taylor, Columbine Victim!  Sue took the Medical facility’s side. Wendy took hers. Here is the links to the SOLR show I did anyway to expose the positive aspect of their mission statement and the stupidity of spitefulness of a few of their members! The result, a growing organization robbed of its most experienced freedom fighter and rider through the same tactics that the ADL, SPLC and AIPAC use, demonization of true patriots.  The good news is, in the case of Mark and Donna Taylor, they failed! Mark Taylor will be going home this month. I will, with his attorneys, escort him out of that facility and back into the love and embrace of his family. Unfortunately, SOLR lost an opportunity to grow and be a positive part of this state’s (Arizona) Freedom Force. I would and did promote this group as I have done with Indian Motorcycles, Rolling Thunder and many more Patriotic MC organizations. Maybe the members of Arizona SOLR will do the right thing and kick out the two women responsible for this debacle, apologize and reinstate me. Or maybe they are just a bunch of Sunday bikers being led by the nose by two ignorant broads. I had higher hopes for the National Leadership, but their failure to show for the scheduled show tells me this organization is a waste of time. Just my opinion of course. You be the Judge.

From President Wendy

Dear Clayton,

I'm sorry to have to do this brother but I have had so many complaints about you that I am suspending you from the AZ SOLR chapter. 

While I appreciate your knowledge, my job is to monitor what happens here in Arizona.  You and I have had our conversations regarding the issues and it's unfortunate that what has happened has really gotten other members upset.  This really is not an open ended discussion I am willing to have from this point on.

I wish you all the best.  I really do. Respectfully, Wendy.

               Guys, Hoss I still plan to do the show with you as we have told everyone. I would like to know the reasons for Wendy’s decision. I have had no cross words with anyone in this group with the exception of Sue Ashe when she attacked me because she thought my website was “too Radical”. Wendy asked me not to respond to her and I didn’t. I was on your shoe last night to promote our interview. There was no problem there either. The whole thread of my discussion with Wendy and Sue Ashe is here: Let me know what all these complaints are about. Other than one uneventful and hassle-free meeting with about 12 members a few weeks ago, I have had no contact, words or problems with any of this group other that those comment in this thread. If you can find one instance that I attacked or insulted anyone, please let me know.

           Hoss was a no show. I did the show about them anyway. See how fair I tried to be!

Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iKiK24AKRNA

Part 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwHISveXvhU

And the story the bitches were upset about?

The Story of Donna Taylor

This was the last comment by Sue Ashe: Comment by Clayton R. Douglas on March 16, 2011 at 2:28pm I said nothing in response. by Sue Ashe   March 8, 2011 at 7:10pm

You first ok hunny?
WTF with the references of long hair and a beard?  You think that as a woman who has been around bikers nearly all of her life that I don't encounter date and always have men that look like you? And WTF does any of that have to do with anything?  I don't NOT like people based on their looks, I base it on what I read as woman intelligent enough to read things clearly and gutsy enough to call B******* when I see it. 

And lets get one thing straight here ok?  Yes I will readily admit that I don't like you based on your blogs but I also didn't like that you attacked people

And I didn't "accuse" you of having an over inflated ego, I stated my OPINION of you based on what I read here and on your blog, the few times I have looked at it. Learn the difference ok???

Just amazing that you have managed to attack and insult soooo many people on this board and yet when someone has the guts to air their OPINION then all that leads to is more attacks?  TRULY amazing.  And laughable at the same time. 

So now I will just say one final thing because now you telling me I have no sense of humor when you don't even f****** KNOW me I will just remind you of that fact that our forefathers fought for the right for me to tell you to go f*** yourself!

So.... if you didn't have a true reason to be offended before well you do now and guess what?  I truly do not give one rats ass either.

And THAT, my friends is the great thing that make me... well ME!  Don't like it?  That's your right just as it is my right to not like someone else.

Want this to end then

Sigh.  I see what I see - one sided reporting of the issue.  I guess you missed the part that I used to work as an advocate for people just like this man.  Whatever

And no I am not a liberal in the least but I am two dimensional and prefer to see BOTH sides, when you only present one.
Did I call you a name?  No I did not so do NOT call me any either, thank you so much. 

Show me the reports from the doctors and the nurses and then I can make an informed decision

And WTF does the dating reference have to do with anything here?  Simply it does not.  Just like you attacking another members hair had nothing to do with this board and had everything to do with your over inflated ego. 

You have presented no FACTS, only conjecture from the mother and others closely related to her or being paid by her. Meaning her lawyer.

I just took a break from something I am doing for a charity ride and figured I would respond to your insults. 

Again have a great day ok???

Comment by Sue Ashe on March 8, 2011 at 5:22pm

Oh and please do not speak to me like I am a moron ok, Clayton because you would be sadly sadly mistaken.  Again, every thing you posted is from either your point of view or the mothers. For my tastes your blog and other things are far too radical and yes, one sided, to call someone being put into a hospital for depression or whatever "kidnapping" is a wee bit radical.  But whatever, that's your deal.

Comment by Sue Ashe on March 8, 2011 at 5:14pm - Clayton:   The recounting of this is one sided I am sure.  IF someone is mentally unstable then they belong where they get sent.  The mother made the statement and she is on sided no? But hey if this is something you want to fight for then go for it. FYI I used to be an advocate for the mentally ill and from my experience if they were in a hospital it was for a reason.  Have a great day.

The bad stuff I said in this conversation that got ME kicked?

Comment by Clayton R. Douglas on March 8, 2011 at 6:12pm Delete Comment But you never have to worry about me asking you out on a date.

Comment by Clayton R. Douglas on March 8, 2011 at 6:11pm - Her lawyer says the actions of the state and medical facility is "criminal". I put her statements and the lawyers up. I was in a hospital for 4 months for a MC accident and I think the 3/4 million dollar hospital bil was a little excessive for 3 broken ribs and the drugging and other attempts to sedate me were criminal also. I am just a reporter telling this story as I have been doing for 25 years.  Obviously you would prefer to find fault with my reporting of the incident, than to dare believe our government and medical establishment might possibly be corrupt. Your statement that I am too radical makes it very obvious that you are a little too liberal for my tastes. In my mind, refusing to look at the facts about what is going on around us DOES make you a moron.

Comment by Clayton R. Douglas on March 8, 2011 at 6:35pm Delete Comment Accusing me of being radical is calling me a name. You also accused me of speaking to you as though you were a moron which I never did or said nothing that I would not say to any of our members. As far as being one sided, I have called the facilities and tried to contact the people that run it but they would not comment or return my calls. If you were an advocate than maybe you could be of some value to this family being torn apart. The mention of a date was merely humor which failed because you obviously have no sense of humor.

Latest update:

COLUMBINE TRAGEDY COMPOUNDED : Veterans Today

I met Donna in NM. She came on my show. She came through Arizona to meet me. I met Mark. He was able to communicate with all around him but he was a little ill after exposure to methane gas in their apartment back in NM. Donna took him to the emergency room in Phoenix where Mark was put into a group home and separated from his mother! I found Wesley Hoyt while interviewing my friend, Edgar Steele’s wife Cyndie. This is the Edgar Steele story: Still ongong. http://freeamerican.com/Images/EdgarSteelTrial.pdf The good news is that, if we can keep raising money through donations to the Free American and the Mark Taylor fund, I will be walking Mark out of the Magellan Medical Institution in Phoenix that kidnapped and held him for the last YEAR on the 29^th of March. We have made a difference and we are going to reunite this young man and his mother in spite of the opposition of idiots and criminals working in the Big Pharma controlled Medical industry! Here what real doctors think of this AMA nightmare our medical industry has become:

Thursday March 17 Dr. Ann Blake Tracy http://drugawareness.org CRD

Thursday Evening  Feb. 24 Dr. Lorraine Day www.drday.com www.goodnewsaboutgod.com

Donna Taylor’s Attorney: Wesley Hoyt on Donna’ situation

http://vimeo.com/freemarktaylor/columbinefamiliestofreemarktaylor

Wednesday March 16  Clay Douglas Making a Difference! In Mark Taylor’s case!

Clay's Latest update: COLUMBINE TRAGEDY COMPOUNDED : Veterans Today

http://www.veteranstoday.com/2011/03/15/columbine-tragedy-compounded/