It is always an adventure.

Today we were supposed to get thunderstorms but looking at the radar I decided at best some rain.  My plan was to take my old 1966 FLH out to stretch her legs.  You know one of those 120 miles only stop once for gas and try to hit as many sweeps as I can rides.   Wooly still gets tired easier then he use to from all the cancer treatments but he still hangs with me on small day rides he just usually has to stop more often.  So when he said lets ride to Cassidy I was surprised and concern that the 300  to 400 mile day would be a little bit to much for him.   After him being insistent it was pull the Indian out and off we go, first stop was for me to get gas as I was on low fuel.  Wooly decided he could make the 126  mile trip and off we go to haul ass down the highway.
 
For anyone who reads this Cassidy is a breakfast run and usually done by noon 1 pm at the latest.  It is the first Sunday of every month in riding season.  Around  here they call riding season March through October.     So leaving the house at  almost 11 I knew we were not going to make the breakfast but instead would be grabbing lunch at the Hays House in Council Grove Kansas on our more scenic  route home.  The Hays House  is the place us and our friends usually stop and eat  lunch at besides vending food is really not what I like nor care to eat.

 Anyway we were running south down interstate 35 and we were hitting the throttle hard.
When  Wooly did not stop in Emporia Kansas to fuel I was taking back as that is almost always a must do fuel stop to make it to our destination.  Next gas is Cassidy 41   miles down the road.   Everything was fine till  he started for the slow lane, my first thought was YEA he has finally learned you never stay in the fast lane all the time, especially if you are not the fastest moving thing on the road.    But nope he was running out of gas, I seen him dipping his bike deep trying to splash some gas down the throat to fire her back up.  This  stunt worked twice and he got a little father south on the toll way but not far enough.  So I get to play the hero and ride the rest the miles to the gas station.   Buy a gas container and then go get a gallon of gas.  That was the most expensive gallon of gas, total $28.   After purchasing the gas I loaded it up on my  luggage rack on the back  of my Indian and slightly whispered to myself I hope I put my cargo net in the saddle bag.    I opened up the saddle bag and bingo there it was.

My next problem was now I got to get back to Wooly.  I cannot go the proper flow of traffic as there is no way to cross over to where he was.  There is solid concrete barriers all the way.  So what is a girl hero to do, ride the wrong direction down the emergency shoulder till I get back to him.  Let me tell you some of the looks I was getting was priceless,  strangers that saw this may still be talking about  what they say going down the interstate that day.

So gas in the tank I do a 360 on a toll road and off we go in the right direction to the gas station to fill up both bikes take a quick  pee break and off we go again for the 6 miles on the road before we exit the tollway.  At the toll stop Wooly and I are side by side when this very aggressive voice from no where starts ordering me around.  "You in the blue {I had on one of my Motor Maid shirts} back up your bike and you will go through one at a time". My first thought was DUH! But  I tell the voice that my mom has my ticket and my money and that I Will go through first not second, mom  sticks my ticket in and then my money, gate opens and off I go to the other side of the gate.  Then it comes Wooly's turn and same routine but when he goes to start his bike it would not start.  So I pull over to the emergency shoulder and run back to help him push his bike off the road way.  It took mom and I three times but we finally bump started the damn thing and off we go.  We think that the drain of running emergency light sitting on the  side of the toll way may have been to much drain for the bike and wondered how long the battery was in that bike.  (We still are looking for the receipt  but I think it is time to get another one.)

Anyway by the time we slow roll through the one block of Cassidy it is after 1 and most everyone is gone and the venders are starting to clean up.  We decide that we should head to Council Grove and grab some lunch, so without stopping we take off  up  highway 177 ( A scenic byway) to lunch.   We arrive in Council Grove  around 2 pm and park our bikes and go into the Hays house for lunch.  By this time I am hungry, really hungry.   We enjoy a nice lunch and when parting Wooly says lets B line home.  So instead of taking 177 north to 4 a fun survey scenic ride we head dead east on old 56.  A straight shot home.

 The  ride  home was boring for the most part but about 50 miles from home we roll up on 4 bikes.  Now following them just a little bit   it was obvious that they had been drinking.  They would speed up then slow  way down, hell they were not even doing the speed limit.  They were all over the lanes weaving around and then they were playing some weird game of hopscotch on bikes.  Anyway I did not want tangled up with this kind of riding so I signaled for  Wooly to get around them.  I was doing 90 when I passed the lead bike  and did not slow down till I could not see them in the side view mirror.  I keep thinking  A: I did not want involved in what could happen with such careless riding and B: I  did not want to be any where near these people if the cops seen this.  Anyway we made it home safe, Wooly did not tire out as he had been doing since the cancer treatments.  Which I am grateful for as I really do miss my  favorite riding buddy.

Two and a half days...926 Miles... and One Tired ass.

A few years ago my sister in law asked if I had ever been on a bike trip where I did not have to deal with rain.  I thought about it I would come up with a no answer.     This small escape would be  different, and even though the potential was there the last day, the Wooly man listened to me on how to lace through the storms and it paid off.

Day one of this trip was after packing bikes.  And for me it was pack and repack, and get rid of this and damn my Harley's pull  out luggage did not work in my Leather Indian saddle bags, go figure.   It took a couple of hours to find ways for  things to  fit.  Arranging  clothes and stuff in  these bags was  trail and error. After finally getting both of us loaded and gas up it was already after 3 pm and game plan was to ride hard to Rogers Arkansas so two hundred and twenty miles later we find dinner  at the Cracker Barrel and then try to book a room for the night.

  After a good breakfast the next morning we reloaded the bikes and was off to Harley Davidson for Wooly and Indian for Me. We farted around in Rogers and buying our souvenirs we gassed up and headed for the funniest part of motorcycles,  curves and leans and bankies oh my!

  We did twist and turn,  rode east and then south and then north on  county roads. We even found a road  that lead to an old one lane wood bridge.  That when going crossed  the bridge the bridge itself   told you and your bike what plank you would be riding on.

The bossy bridge.

  The squaw handled very impressive in all the paces I was putting her through. Once I came around a nice gentle sweep to find a doe and her yearling waiting to cross the street.  She decided after seeing me on the Squaw to go back the way she had came.  I was glad as I still do not want to end up  road kill. About 2:00 pm  I was getting hungry again and Wooly found a place called T's.  It was bar be que  and I ordered the smoked turkey.  It was a great sandwich, full of smoke flavor and moist, hell it was so good I did not use sauces  on my sandwich.  I did how ever try some on their fries, and preferred the spicy sauce.  It was not to hot on the pallet and had just a kick of spice to wake up the taste buds.

After heading south on 7 for quite a spell we headed back to the east on highway ten to 309.  This was the funniest road we was on all weekend.  Hardly no traffic, it ran up and over Mount Magazine.  Once at the top the view was gorgeous and you could see for miles.

 

From the top of Mount Magizine

After coming out of these roads we headed back east to Fort Smith where we found a small no name hotel to spend the night. Grabbed dinner at the Cracker Barrel and retired to our room for a few  cocktails and a hot shower.

Last day: Get up and pack, by this time I was getting this packing of the Squaw down pat and it was not taking forever to do so.  I ate some cashews for a quick breakfast and handed half the package to Wooly.  I did not want a big breakfast as Wooly has plans to stop for a big lunch.   We load up and head back east so we could ride a few more curves.  And then north up 21 till 412 and back west in to Eureka Springs where we stopped and had lunch at The Rocking Pig Saloon.  I had the Bisson sliders which is a big meal. I did not even eat any of my chips and to be honest would have stopped at one slider but they was to good to go to waste.  Wooly had the loaded sweet potato fries,  and we wash it down with a few brews.

Can you spot the Indian?

From there it was head north on 23 till we hit the Missouri state line where we would head back east to highway71, then 54 over to Fort Smith where we gassed up and took off helmets and then run fast and hard home.
So after a few days almost 1000 miles my but was sore but hey every curve was worth ever minute.

Christmas in July, try August.

So thinking I have either bite off more then I can chew or I have embarked on a new wonderful adventure  Tuesday I picked up my new motorcycle, An Indian Dark Horse.  It is basically a striped down model of the vintage but it is all black.  I loved the look but being me I needed a few things that this model did not come with.  So I pick my bike up and then ride her home where me and Wooly began to make her mine. In other words start putting all those little gadgets on her.

                                           This is what Christmas in August looks like.

So a few gadgets later and  just a few raised voices of over how and what to do first.  And a few hours later,  the Squaw is done.   I will say that I think they made this bike to easy to work on comparing it to Harley.  It is basically two bolts to anything and all allen wrenches, makes a tool kit simple to say the least.

                                               This is the Squaw with gadgets added.


We go for a little putt, about 60 miles so I can get a little feel for her.   This was basically simple sweeps straight roads  and a few gravel roads.    I return home thinking : I added saddle bags (which I think I need bigger bags they look nice but they are small) why did I not throw a jacket in one.  Which as it was getting colder because the sun went down is what brought me home so soon.

Yesterday I went for a block, found some great curves  to see how she handles.  Impressive is the word I would use here.  Wooly and I went to get ribs at our favorite place.  Guy and Mays, it is a little bar about 60 miles south of us.  So we jump on the interstate and b-lined down there,  As this is still a new being broke in bike I was going easy on her and actually doing the speed limit.  Okay maybe once or twice I twisted that throttle.

 When we got there I was still unsure of a few things like how do I get to see my trips meter.  So after backing her into here spot I dug her owners manual out and went inside to get to know the Squaw a little better.   I learned a few simple things about my bike that operate totally different then my Harley's but still simple things like how to adjust throw the 6 different read out screens.  It was a matter of a small push on a small button but I would not have guessed where that button was.  Still thinking Harley instead of Indian on these matters.

I DID A BAD BAD THING???

I did a bad bad thing???  I am not sure yet but some how it feels selfish, irresponsible and finically wrong.   But at the same time it feels good, exciting  and  exhilarating... What did I do that you might ask what could bring all these different feelings and all at the same time ? I went and bought yet another bike.

I had debating weather to go and buy a new bike or rebuild the Submarine (my 2007 Street-glide)?  I thought I had my mind made up to spend about 6,000$ and rebuild the Submarine.  True and balance the fly wheels add some Timken bearings.  Change the cam bore the heads and make her a 107 cubic inch engine.  And maybe a new seat  as I think the one I have is wore down. So 6,500$ and get to start the whole  new engine break in and see what fun and adventure the next 72,000 miles had to offer.

Well Sunday I rode a little over 100 miles to meet some great friends for lunch.  We was celebrating one of these friends new adventure in life.  But that is when it started, one of the guys got a new Indian Chieftain. Basically the Indians  version of the Street-glide.  He was really happy with his exchange and before all of us parted ways he said before you put all that money into your bike go test ride an Indian. As this friend is a gear head and know bikes really well I thought okay I go do a test ride.

I am still not sure if that was good advice or not but I decided to go schedule a test ride on the Indian. I did not think I would get to ride one but the dealer  had a older bike (2014)  model of the bike I was looking at and I got to take her for a 4 mile stretch.  I was amazed at the broader range in the gears.  The smoothness of the big 111cubic inch engine.  The easy braking and shifting, the over all smooth way this big beast functioned.  I think I was hooked. Okay I knew I wanted one but being me I told them I got to sleep on this and will talk with them in the morning.

I tossed and turned thinking over do I really want or need yet another motorcycle.  If I got one where would I store it as my garage is quit full.  Do I want to get rid of the submarine.  She was my very first brand new bike and I still love her.  Do I want a payment or would taking every thing out of the bank be better.  What is the bottom dollar I would take for the Submarine... A lot of question for me to consider, and very few answers that I liked.

The  next morning after coffee I go to talk to Wooly about what I was thinking.  I had come up with what I would take as bottom dollar and what I wanted to do with the Chieftain.  But I also came up with a plan B.  Indian had this model that is  to come out called the Dark Horse and it was what got me looking away from Harley and into Indian at the first of the year.  I loved it almost all black more as a run around town but with a little change here and there I could easily make her a cruiser with leather bags a detachable windshield.  So plan A trade in the Submarine and get a new Chieftain, plan B take the money I had saved  to rebuild the Submarine and put it down on the the Dark Horse and keep the Submarine.

Well I cleaned up the Submarine as I wanted it to look good for the appraisal.  Rode over and said lets try to make a deal.  With the high mileage of the Submarine (their words not mine) they would not offer me what I wanted  for it not even close.  So after going back and forth with the owner it turned out that I was going with plan B.

My new  bike and all the goodies I ordered for her should be here next week.  I also loved that taking with sales and parts that they was not offended that I like to work on my bike and that  the dealership offers  packages for servicing.  80$ for a normal 5,000  mile service and me doing the work would not interfere with the warranty.  They also said that all the parts except for exhaust and the stage 1 was easy to install and that they did not have a problem with me installing them and that they are easily installed.  This is some thing I thought hell yes save me spending 100$ an hour for a mechanic to put on a few gadgets and change out the seat.

I am not sure what my new ride adventures will bring and I am not sure what relationship the future will hold for me and Indian.  I have hope that these company is going to do some thing amazing for the American motorcycle industry.  And hopefully we will have a long happy relationship.   Also  as a side note Wooly says that I got to sell my car to make room in the garage for the new bike.  Well he said sell it or it has to set out side.  I am thinking as I hardly put 500 miles a year on my car I might just sell it.

Chasing the 66

Many of my friends know and remember that my favorite Harley engine has always been the 1966 Shovel generator.  Now there are several reasons that make sense to only me, and several, that a lot of other folks can or might appreciate. First one that might make some sense is 1966 is my birth year.  Also mechanically speaking a lot of wonderful things happened that year for motorcycles and cars. The FLH went from iron heads to aluminum. Which turned out to give those engines a boost of 5 horsepower just to name one thing.  Second to my eyes it has always been the sexiest  engine  Harley ever produced as it has clean, simple lines that  I seem to be drawn to.  Third it is the first year of a three year production engine.  Not only is it rare, but all my other bikes (that I have loved and kept) are also first year production engines.  Why mess with traditions that seem to work.

So Attempt One:

The first motorcycle I ever tried to buy was a 1966.  I was just starting what was then my first job in the career that I seem to have.  I was working for minimum wages, poor and barely making ends meet.   I was  working as a laborer on a construction site.  A state inspector told me that he had a brother-in-law  that had a couple of old bikes he might sell.  You know we all heard the story of the old bikes rode into the garage and there they set for, well in this case nineteen almost twenty years.  At first I blew the whole thing off thinking yea right.  After a couple of weeks the old state inspector asked if I called the brother-in-law?  When I said no, he said why not?  He needs the money and can't ride anmore.  So after making the call, we went to go meet the brother-in-l,aw.   He was reluctant to sell but after sweet talking him for almost a year (and a lot of games of dominos!) a deal was made.   Remember this bike was being sold sight unseen.  Knowing it had set in a barn for twenty years, never kicked over, old gas and oil still sitting in her.  Knowing she was rusting away loved but never ridden.  The money at the time was a lot of money to me, hell it was half a years paychecks.  I beg and borrowed everything I could and I finally came up with the money.  

 We set a date of when he was going to go get both the bike I wanted and an old 49 Pan.   Well, lets say this old bike that was going to be my very first bike, was loaded on an old trailer, and was hauled from the barn to his house so that night I could pick up my love/ lust/ desired bike.  Nope it was stolen right from under me.  Some guy that had a lot more money then me, saw these two old bikes on that trailer and offered him $15,000 for them both!   Seven thousand for my beloved and eight thousand for the old pan.  When I got there that night the guy whom I though I had made a great deal with told me this.  He also said if I could match the other guys offer, the bike was mine.  I could not scream "what the fuck!" at him, after all, he did need the money but my heart was so broken that I did not go looking for another 66 for over a decade. But I did get to play/fix/clean her up a bit that night.  I cleaned the mud daubers nest out of the air filter.  I drained all the old gas and put in clean fresh gas in her.  I got to kick her over till she puked the oil that had settled in the bottom out her blow by. I guess a tease is all I got sort of like a lap dance when you want sex.  

Attempt 2:

  I was just casually looking at bikes for sell about  eight  years ago  and ran across one about two hundred and fifty miles north of me.  A 1966, two tone peach and cream paint job, everything else was all original, she was a beautiful old gal.  I was in lust even though the colors was not stock she was gorgeous  and she screamed my name.  So after debating if I should go buy a new or old bike I said what the hell when is the next time I am going to get a chance at this.  For  those that  do not know me  there is not much I lust, well motorcycles and guns.  Also and I am not the kind of girl that falls in love/lust easily.  So lust of the old girl won out and I went to talk to the owner of this bike.  Lets say some people have and want a lot of money for these old gals. And even though they may be worth a lot, to me there is a very definite figure to that I am willing  to pay for anything.  Well, he was a lot prouder of her then my desire for her, because we  never got closer than fifteen thousand dollar difference in our negotiations. 

I watched for months as he tried to sell her knowing that he was asking way to much money.  I was secretly hoping that no one saw the add or desired her that much. You know the saying a fool and his money.   I don't know if he ever found someone to pay that much money for her or not.   But she vanished, no longer listed, I watched for months heart broken that she was so gorgeous, so different, so me and so not going to ever be mine that once again my little cold heart was broken.  This time though to sooth my broken heart, I found and fell in love with the Submarine.  I bought her for my birthday seven years ago.  About a year after this little heart break.  So in the long run, everything did work out.  As I love the Submarine and she and I have had thousands of miles and smiles together and will have hundreds of thousands to come.

Thirds a charm:

 I don't know what made me start looking again.  Maybe it was Wooly trying to nudge me to a new CVO.  Honestly not one of Harley's new bikes has made my heart go pitter patter since the Sub had. I have two bikes that I love,  two very different,  two first years production,  two lovely ladies the make me and my heart content,  or so I thought.  I don't know if it was boredom, or fate that made me just do an internet search for the 1966 FLH.  But when I did there was a few bikes that popped up.  A black one, a red one and a blue one.   None of these appealed to me, I have a black bike Mydol, I have a blue bike the Sub, and I do not like the color red, not at all, not in the least.   A few days later I did the same search just to see if anything new was listed and there she was!  A 1966 two tone light yellow and cream almost totally stock.  Knowing that some guys get mad making deals with women over their  beloved bikes,  I had the Wooly man call the owner for me.  He made an him a cash offer. I will admit  it was less then what he wanted and  he did turn it down.  I guess he did not know how the negotiating process goes.  I make a low offer, you counter a little lower than asking, I counter a little less then you just offered… we meet close to the middle,  both content.   But NOPE!  He was going to let it go thru the auction process.  

I called and asked one of the guys I work for how E-Bay worked.  I had never bought any thing on E-Bay before and he was always buying on E-Bay so when in doubt ask an expert.  He said that every thing happens at the last minute, he was so right about that.  Actually the last 15 seconds to be correct.  Fifteen-seconds before the auction was ending I bid his reserve.   More then what I wanted to pay but still it was less then the top dollar I was willing to pay.  Wooly had bought on E-Bay once before and he had set his bid up to bid in increments of $100 to a certain max bid.  Which I will say he must have wanted me to have this bike because he had set it up for two thousand over what I said I was willing to pay for her?  But had it not been for him I, would not finally have my lusted after bike of over  twenty-five years.

So this makes a slight new drama  for us.  We already have a full garage.  With his four bikes and his personal first year Harley pick-up truck.  With my two other loved bikes,  and my not worth much car but fun ass to drive goes fast five speed car. And moms motorcycle with side car.  Well are you seeing the new dilemma.  The question now is do I let my little five speed  set outside and rust like all ones before her did  or do we build me my own garage.  Oh decisions… decisions.

 Here she is at long-last my desire, of over half my life:

                                       

The only thing I am planning to change is the seat.

Chasing Clouds and Curves.

Today I took off for a ride, just an average 120 miles of  going no where and do nothing but riding.   I still say that only a biker can log miles, go nowhere when doing so and end up saying nothing about the average every day ride.  So todays writing is about just that, an average ride.   No thrills no spills no nothing exciting happened.

 As the tempters  around here have been and are now staying   around the triple degree mark, I decide that I would chase  the  activity of where the pop up showers where going to be.  With all the  technology this is made pretty easy with  apps one can get on their " smarter  then me phones".  Besides  chasing storms  is a habit that  I have from being a storm chaser when I was younger, some habits just are hard to break and the older the habit the harder it is to break the habit.  But anyway not only did this  keep me 15 degrees cooler but I was hoping that  me the "Rain Goddess" as my friends call me,   might just tempt mother nature to deliver some  needed rain  back home.  Even though we did have a very wet winter,  all of   the shallower creeks and rivers  are drying up and the earth is needing the moisture.  But my temping of Mother Nature did not work.


Last Sunday when the family went out for a ride We were all heading back to the locker and instead of turning down one of what use to be my favorite roads. I say use to be because it did have these really great turns.  Basically right and left hand turns at 40 miles per hour.   But then some road engineers decided to make all these turns stop. They just  ruined my fun when they did that. I decide to take a road I had never thought about riding down before.   At first it was like most roads at home, straight some small hills.  Nothing to really write about.  But this is  now my new all time favorite I compare it to my favorite which is a little lake road, not much in distance maybe 7 miles in length but it has curves  and banks and even a few curvy banks...  Any way today doing this new favorite road for the second time in my life going the opposite direction I came from last time.  I was having myself to much fun and was soon reminded when I turned in to a tight curve.  I was  going over the posted safe speed like always  and scraped my bottom brace of my running boards...   I felt it dig into the pavement and knew I had better back off the throole a little.  So  I slowed to only 10miles over posted speed... still had some fun and survived the ride this way.

 But after all the fun on this road it was back to the boring straight flat blocks that  even though I love to ride these roads are about as boring as roads can be for a motorcycle, unless you are a racer.  I was clearing my head and finding me some Zen that only my motorcycle and a road gives  to me.   Later  after going down the  boring road  a few miles I got stuck behind a 18 wheeler from one of the local earth moving company's.    Now I am no speed demon on a bike or  in my car but I do tend to have a problem with keeping any thing at a posted speed,  a trait I am told I get from my father.   Any way as the big truck was traveling at posted speed, and who can blame him they get big tickets when they are caught doing things most drivers get away with.  I waited till it was safe to pass  on this little two lane road.   But when I did  I had a mile of nothing but a straight road in front of me  and no one on it so I cracked  the throttle hard and when I hit 95  while passing the big truck my shirt blow up and Mr trucker got flashed my bra...  Good thing I had on a bra, lol.

So my  average every day boring go no where do nothing but ride turned into chasing clouds and chasing curves... scraping boards and flashing truckers... not a bad way to spend some time.



PS: This little ride happened this past summer,  It just took till now for me to think about writing some thing about it.  Must be me  day dreaming as it is 10 degrees and riding is not really an option for me right now.

"Want to go for a three day bike about?"

Well any one that knows me knows you do not have to ask twice.  So when Wooly asked if I want to  go for a three day bike about. I  had my  saddlebags  packed in ten minutes.  Asking where we going he said "The Ozark mountains".  Now around here the Ozarks mountain's are the place to play, less then a day ride away to some curves twist and bankies. So getting a late start we take off head south and then back east to go play in the mountains.  The first day was really nothing to write about just 273 miles to Table rock lake where we would start our fun.   We stopped there for the night cause the rains was getting really close.  We stayed in a little mom and pop place, .nothing fancy but a clean place with very biker friendly owners...Mountain Country Inn, the owner rides and was very nice he suggested we eat at Gators across the street.  So bed and what we thought was dinner secured we ran to Walmart to get a new memory card for the go pro camera we got and had mounted to a helmet.  We bought too big of a  memory card and ended up going to another store  the next day.  So with no breakfast at the hotel I picked up some fruit, nuts  and muffins for breakfast.  We found a car wash and washed all the bugs off the bikes, not a easy task as they seem to be attached  to the Submarine.  And then it was back  to the hotel where we parked the bikes and walked across the street to grab some dinner.  Well we missed dinner, the  kitchen closed at 8:30 and we got there at 9.  Damn good thing I bought stuff for breakfast as it now became our dinner. And we got all this done  before the heavy stuff came down that night. But the moon was full and I thought what a great way to start a trip.

Next morning we have coffee what was left of breakfast and load up to go to Walmart #2 to get the right memory card.  I remember thinking how much  I love the smell of rain,  and how much I have missed that smell, and how long had it been since I had smelled that smell of the wet dirt, the earth being soaked.  It had been at least 10 years.  The drought probably had some thing to do with it...Any way  after getting the right card we was back on track to ride the Pigs Trail again...

This is about the most fun you can have on two wheels around this part of the country. After riding the twities to Eureka Springs  we stopped at the satellite store to get souvenirs.  They had nothing I really wanted so we decides to take a small side trip to Rodgers to go shop at the big H.D. store.   While looking for presents for people Wooly found a bike "I had to see!"... a $46,000 bike.  The bike was gorgeous but $46,000 and it was not even a C.V.O. ... Also it was too pretty of a bike to be mine.  With gold leaf paint.  A garage queen  to say the least nothing that I should have because it just would not be pretty when I chipped that paint going down some gravel road or through construction or what ever else  that would chip a paint job.  But while at the Pigs Trail Harley   I had put a notice on face book of where we was and got a text  from a friend that she was at work 10 minutes away.  We waited for hugs from Terri Jo and it was worth the wait even in the almost 100 degree heat.   It is always great to see good friends even if just for a quick hug and a happy face.

After hugs it was back on bikes and off for more fun and games... The twisty,curvy, banky fun and games that I love...

Oh here is where I should put in my new declaimer:
 " Hi my name is Gina and I am a curve-a-holic...  It has now been a few days since I last rode a curve.  I can feel my heart racing, my hands sweating and my blood vessels are about to burst!"

  We rode or should I say coasted though a couple of elk grazing on the side of the road, but some how did not have the motorcycle camera on for it.  (Big slap on the forehead) Stoped at this beautiful road side picnic area that was built into an out crop of mountain... GORGEOUS!!!

 Then I almost ran out of gas and we was in the middle of nowhere. I was coasting down the hills so I might make it to the next gas station...Finally gassed up and looking at radar noticed we was in trouble, bad thunderstorms was building up all around us.  I would like to say we made it but it would be a big lie.  We got poured on, riding a scenic by way going through mountains in the middle of nothing.  My very expensive riding glasses fogged up. I could not see so I was tucked down under my windshield with my glasses resting on my nose.  Not the thing to do this time as  they did not make the trip.  I lost them on a curve  circled back found them busted in the middle of the road. Was not even worth picking up.  Lense missing broken ear piece ...etc..   We finally pulled into a spot on the map that had not only a hotel it still had a subway open... 8pm soaked  and subway for dinner.... I still was filling lucky as we did make it there alive and with the only incident being my riding glasses... Still all in all a good day.

So our last day we start out to finish our fun ...  I walk down to the only gas station convent store to get coffee for breakfast.  We strap are still soaking wet clothes to Wooly fender and off we go to finish our little 3 day bike about.  We road up through Peels Ferry a place I had been by a million times but never rode so today we  had to ride Peels Ferry...

 When we was almost to the other dock the tug boat came unhooked from the ferry and slammed into the side of us.  Glad I was on my bike when it happened because I think if I was not it might have been knocked over... We  finished our fun riding up through Mark Twain forest.  Up some back roads that started going into long sweeps before we finally had to turn back west and make our mad dash home...