Despite the nice weather that blessed us here in Oregon for a few weeks (which coincidentally has since been replaced by buckets of rain), I haven't ridden much. Earlier this year I was commuting on the bike on a daily basis into downtown Portland, rain or shine (mostly rain). Once I got the company car it was all dry clothes and heat billowing from the vents. So, for the last few months, I've been walking past Runkle (my faithful BMW G65GS) in the garage watching the dust gather and the mice droppings collect.
|Perfect Oregon riding day....|
Finally, last weekend I agreed to go on a ride in order to attempt to fine tune the route for the Chris Kilcullen Memorial Ride in July. Attempt
being the operative word. First, since Runkle had been ignored, I had to check the tire pressure which took FOREVER since I bought this really cool mini Husky air pump that I couldn't get to work....I know what you are thinking, you just plug it in and the air goes in, right? Yeah. I ended up letting all the air out of the front tire on accident. I'm an embarrassment to riders everywhere. Then I had to clean all the spider webs off the bike. Living in the country is awesome...but the bugs and spiders and mice...you'd think I was in a huge city living in a sewer pipe.
Finally, I took off to meet the boys who showed up about an hour later than they should have. I stood, I sat. Eventually I realized there were hundreds of tiny spiders crawling all over my jacket so I also jumped up and down, swatted, screamed like a sissy and ended up almost beating the crap out of myself before I could get the jacket off. Yeah, I'm impressive.
|Waiting, waiting...and waiting.....for the boys....|
When the boys arrived they explained a couple wrong turns had slowed them down. Apparently we're going to have to put some serious signage up for the ride. Great! More work! We jumped on our bikes and headed to our planned lunch spot (taking a wrong turn first thing) and eventually wound our way to the Harley store where I was able to find ONE bike I liked.
|My pick at the Harley store....I'd rather be riding a Vespa....|
The first half of our ride done and no time to do the second half, we decided we (or I) could route the last half later ...and the boys had to rush home to their women. Geez. Wimps. Or maybe priorities?
Naw. That's crazy talk.
Post a Comment