I had a date with my Husquvarna, instead I stood her up and took Ole Girl for a ride. Horses Mares and mackerel clouds were starting to gather in the western horizon, thus confirming the approach of the impending wintry mix that NOAA was forecasting for Tuesday; this was the storm system that had just visited the plains and Midwest and now it would be our turn. I loaded babydoll up in the FAV for school, the instrument cluster informed me that it was 21 degrees; maybe we should move to Alabama? I knew that the windchill factor would become a mot point at that low of a temperature and I knew without a doubt that I would have to don my complete heated gear ensemble: heated jacket, pants and gloves. The liners would be sandwiched between my Fox Creek leathers, Carhartt vest and topped off with my trusty HJC brainbucket; the ATGATT folks would have been proud of me except I was not wearing any European safety yellow. With all of my gear on I felt like a sled driver. All that gear was starting to make me sweat, not good! I walked down the wooden basement steps, opened the creaky old wooden door and entered Ole Girl's living quarters where she was plugged into the Battery Tender; I unplugged her from her electrical umbilical cord and lit the wick!
Ole Girl needed a minute or two to warm up so I gave her some space; while she was collecting her thoughts, I was planing the route for our jaunt. Once she gave me the nod we rolled out into frigid, blinding atomic sunshine, onto the slick leave covered hardball. We turned left, jamming into second, Ole Girl responded with a little shake of her tail. Third gear, jamming into Fourth, Fifth without any provocation from me; she wanted Sixth but she ain't got it; she wanted more throttle but steel cages with rubber wheels in front of us impeded our need for speed. Six miles later we leaned left and shot down through the E-Z Pass stall. Hard right-hand corkscrew turn; my eyes locked onto the yield sign-look where you want to go! A quick peek for fastmovers in the number one lane of the Turnpike-clear-jam it! Second-Third-Fourth-Fifth-cages moving over to the passing lane; that's right! You better move over for us! Tinted visor down as we move into the presence of the white corona. Seventy-two miles per hour at 25 degrees Fahrenheit never felt so good! Occasionally as I exhale, a Nectarine size spot of moisture appears on the inside of my visor. Funky misshapen reflections appear on it as well. Handlebars protrude from my nose; I can not feel them because my mouth and cheek bones are numb-Novocaine numbness. Thick numb lips accentuate the Dali images on the visor.

Eighty-eight miles never felt so good after such a long and tenuous absence. Heat from steaming hot shrimp Ramen chased out the cold from the core of my body, through my extremities. Shrug off your self-pity, self-loathing and live!


  1. I'm embarrassed to say I whined a bit on the ride home from work tonight because it took a while for the car to heat up. Nice post.

  2. Dad,
    Your pictures are really now getting to be AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!

  3. I am planning a South for Winter trip to the coast next month. It will be chilly and I am planning on layering but I have also been thinking this might be the year I spring for electrics. Everyone I know that has them absolutely loves them.

    As far as moving to Alabama goes, you should. There is a house for sale on our street and an opening in your field in our town. I think its a sign. ;)