Ohh, the Waiting...
March 26, 2006
You guessed it: Another Sunday, Another Breakfast, Another Ride.
This Sunday, the temperature would be a balmy 32 degrees. We had rain, snow, and sunshine on the Saturday before, and I thought it just might be too wet to ride. When I ventured out to get the Sunday Edition of the Indianapolis Star, there were still spots on the driveway that were frozen over from the evening cool. The overnight low was the mid twenties.
After reading several sections of the newspaper, I took another look outside. Sunshine was pouring through the east facing windows, and the thermometer had climbed above thirty-two. "I'm riding," I decided to myself. My chaps were already in the house from last week, so I suited up.
While I finished, Nina came down the stairs, ready for church, and asked, "Your Riding this morning?"
I rolled the bike out of the garage, nearly throwing myself off when my helmet caught on the bottom of the garage door. I will be glad when I replace that door, and have an automatic opener attached to it!! The ride to Shapiro's was brisk, but no where near the the chills from last week. As always on Sundays, I have to fudge the speed limit to make sure I hit all, or most of the lights. They must time the lights to make Washington Street a bit of an express way on Sunday Mornings.
I decided to eat healthy this morning, and I went with the Veggie omelet. I had to give a good ribbing to all the non-riders. I think I mentioned that their bikes are going to have to have all the rust removed. Since most of them ride Goldwings, and plastic doesn't rust, they felt comfortable riding in their four wheeled cages. I would guess that about ten made it on this sunny, Sunday morning. Another rider showed up, someone who is not a regular visitor. I believe I have only met him here at breakfast, I don't think I have ridden with him.
This week there was a difference in the air. You could almost feel the anticipation. Maybe because I know I am taking off on a great trip at the end of the week, or maybe it is the 60 degree temps that are forecasted for the coming week. The normal talk of old men describing this surgery, and that ailment has been eroded by discussion of destinations, and great roads. Ron was talking to Wild Bill about going west. A trip I may have to make with Wild Bill before he hangs up his helmet. He has been out there a lot, and wants me to tag along so he can trace up roads unknown, and me and my GPS can get us back to the hotel. Later on Sunday, Reed, the leader of the breakfast meetings, would send out an e-mail where you can fill out the states you have ridden in, and it colors them in. I have a lot of western states to fill in.
Gene and I talked most of the time. He drives a school bus with Duncan. The three of us, along with Shooter in the lead, will be heading out on an adventure next week. Toward the end of our time, Reed joined us, and we talked a little about the trip.
Upon my trip home, I decided to try something that Wild Bill had suggested. Instead of wearing leather chaps, I put on my Frogg Toggs Rain Gear Pants to keep my legs warm. I also decided to take the interstate. If this plan worked, then I would not have to take the chaps, and the rain pants could serve double duty, and mean more storage room! I have to admit there was a bit of a trade off. First off, I look pretty damn good in those chaps. If Nina would allow me, I may have to post a pic! Anyway, they are leather, so they are heavy, and no wind gets through them. However, since they don't cover all of my lower extremity, there are some areas that are left for blue jeans to protect from the cold. Sensitive areas. Overall, the rain pants kept me warm, and all over warm. I could still feel some cold from the wind, however; I believe that I will leave the chaps at home.
The only thing worth mentioning on the trip home is that while on I-70, I was going to get trapped by traffic, and potentially miss my exit. I have points on the road that I like to be in a certain lane, to set up my exit, maybe I plan more than other drivers, but it is something to keep my mind on. I wasn't going to make my lane change with out either slowing down, or hitting the throttle, and passing a couple of semis. Since I was on the bike, and the 1800 cc's always have power to spare, I twisted the throttle and in a few seconds I was around the trucks, and bearing down on 90 mph. I backed off to the speed limit, I swear, and made my exit, dragging the floorboard a time or two on the 465 entrance ramp.