Monday, October 04, 2010
Wow! October already?
Barefoot through the frost, you ask? The dogs wanted out and the one of the tie out cables was wrapped around a tree - stupid dog! - and whoever let the dog in didn't bother to untangle it, leaving the cable well out of reach. I was far too impatient to hunt for my shoes, so off I went across the frozen tundra to retrieve the cable. I did manage to find my shoes - no socks though - to walk my grandson to the bus stop later, but I didn't wear a jacket.
I'm sure the I made a pretty picture for the bus driver - middle-aged fat man in sneakers, no socks, sweatpants and a t-shirt drinking a cup of coffee at the bus stop. Come to think of it, thats pretty much my uniform of the day anyway. Poor bus driver! I note she was wearing a coat. Wimp!
Fall is my favorite time of year, even though it sucks that riding season is about done. Short day trips and saddlebags loaded with cold weather apparel are the order of the day, and I wear the helmet more and more often to keep the ears warm. Hard to believe that I was swimming in Lake Michigan a mere two weeks ago - I have pics to prove it. A long warmish Fall like last year would be a wonderful treat - thanks God! - so here's to a long Indian summer.
Many years ago I got suckered by warm weather in late October and took off for a long weekend ride. I got back early on a Monday morning having ridden through torrential rain, high winds, and finally snow all in the same day as I worked my way back north to North Muskegon on my '74 Honda 750. I was in the military at the time, and being AWOL come Monday morning wasn't much of an option for me. Considerably younger, I was neither experienced nor equipped to ride in bad weather, and I was miserable by the time I got home. I was actually wearing a trash bag as a poncho! I began bar hopping, stopping every few miles once I got across the Michigan border, to warm up and top up my antifreeze, which doesn't help, by the way. I was too damn cold for whiskey to take the edge off.
I was close to worthless to the Coast Guard that day anyway, although my CO probably didn't notice, me having been the stereotypical drunken sailor of song, early in the morning - Weigh, heigh and up she rises! - on more than one occasion. Luckily the Coast Guard of 1981 was not as inventive at disciplining drunken sailors as was the Royal Navy of 1781!
Today, my bike isn't much bigger (783 cc) but ol' hoosiertoo is much better prepared for fall riding. And I hope do a lot of it yet this year.
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