Reading (For Dummies)

Zen and the Art

New Toy

I went down to Queens yesterday to pick up the motorcycle, finally, from Richard's place. It needs quite a bit of maintenance, stuff that hasn't been done from the bike not being ridden in 10 years. Rubber seals are rotting, the header pipes have some surface rust where there should be chrome, the seat is faded, and a sidecover is missing. Brake lines will need replacing; a nice coat of rustoleum all around is in order.

In short, it will be a nice restoration project. I hunger to learn about carburetors so I can degunk those on this little cycle. I've actually been more eager for this motorcycle than I would be for one that's in running condition -- I want to learn everything about it so that if it breaks down on a trip, I will be able to make repairs myself.

I took Rich and Bridgit out to lunch (and additionally gave them some fine Ale) to say thank-you for the big bike, hopefully the last addition to my two-wheeled transports for a while.

Ben and Mena have nothing on these two

After a long nervous drive with the motorized vehicle tied up in the back of Erik's pickup, I arrived back his place where I was informed we would be going back to ride in the same area we went before. This time, it was riding with Mark, a German native who looks and talks just like Doug. Well, looks like Doug if Doug started hitting the gym and was really into biking.

Our ride was another fantastic tale. We rode for hours, when Mark got a flat. It was a big rip, and he uses tubeless tires. Patches wouldn't work. We figured on walking out; the car was only 1.7 miles away.

What a 1.7 miles. We headed north, then tried to cut west to the cars. A lake cut us off. We headed south, and tried to cut west. Lake. We all got split up. I went further south, tried to cut west. More lake. It was getting dark now. I fired up the GPS. Went 2 miles south of the cars, tried to cut west. Found the powerlines (which go straight north to the cars). It was 8:15 now, the sun was down, I couldn't really see much detail on the trails. Heading north along the powerlines, the trail cut to the right a little. I didn't think much of it, headed north another mile. I was .15 miles from the cars, just a tad to the east. I tried to cut west. Lake. #!@$%!@#.

I worked my way south again, where I figured, the lake would at least be shallow. I waded across, right into a giant mass of briar patch. My legs started to bleed profusely. My shoulder had a bit of stabbing pain, which I finally pieced together last night (as it's something that has bothered me every once in a while for years) is caused by dehydration -- I had only had a mouthful of water in the 3 hours on the trail.

I was completely tangled in briars when I heard Erik and Mark yelling out for me. I was only 200 feet from the road, but my bike and me were totally stuck in sticker bushes that I could barely see. I took the front wheel off my bike and used it to beat back bushes. At least, I thought, if I could get out, I would worry about patching a flat later on. I made it.

Re-attached the wheel to my bicycle and met up with the crew on the service road. A two minute bike ride had us all laughing out loud. It was 9pm, we were hungry exhausted. Stewart Airport had beaten us again, but we will be back.