Readytoride
Well-Known Member
- Region
- USA
- City
- Virginia
Not all pictures can manage to silently be worth a thousand words. Some definitely require captions. Or explanations. Or a story told.
So, I will sit and muse about a story, a story that begins with driving my truck to my wonderful mechanic at the crack of dawn this morning to have the auto 4-wheel drive fixed, then home with hubby in the Prius to find that, once parked back in the garage, the Prius suddenly having a panic attack with its 12 volt battery being low (no, you do NOT want to drive a hybrid with a low 12 volt battery) just as we were about to take the electric car's rear tire up to the local gas station to have the screw pulled out the treads (it was punctured yesterday and we woke up to a pancake tire this morning). Three vehicles, all out of commission. All I had left was the bikes.
This will be the lead in to the story which will continue with darling son coming to the rescue and driving from his place on the mountain to our farm to drive me and the dismounted tire to the gas station, wait while the tire puncture is fixed as well as spend some quality time with his mother, then back to our farm where he could put the tire back on the car and then head off home. One should always have a child or two waiting in the wings for just such an emergency.
The story will continue with me standing in the garage, next to the Prius which looked like it was on life support hooked up to a battery charger, observing beyond the open garage doors the outside where the sunny skies were doing their level best to put on a welcoming face to cajole me, after the tumultuous drama filled morning, into a bike ride despite the cold temps and a brisk wind that took vindictive delight in producing sub-freezing wind chills. I will add a paragraph, or two, extolling my options and deliberations before finally deciding any type of fast ride was simply out of the question. But a slow ride? <shrug> Doable. Perhaps a bit of road litter pick-up on the Class 2? Absolutely doable. That's a ride at a walking pace. Go the direction where the wind is at my back, pushing the little trailer like it was a sail, and life couldn't get any sweeter. Done!
The story will then skip to the present where I am now 4 miles down the road, my litter bag getting close to full, the wind to my back, sweat pooling under my ski jacket, one hand perpetually raised to wave at the drivers on the road as they waved back, or tooted their horns in friendliness, or even stopped to thank me, and then as I zero in my grabber on a piece of litter next to this farm's fence, I hear behind me a lone "mmm...BAAAAAA". I will recount how I looked around in surprise to see an entire flock of Jacob sheep eagerly racing in a mad dash up the fenceline towards me as if I was some long awaited food truck bringing them a much anticipated meal. I will add some humorous renditions of what I announced to the hairy sheep to discourage them from holding onto their misconception while they continuing to follow me, like sheep, on the opposite side of the fence, begging for food, and how this ended up being the sole photograph I would take for the entire (short) uneventful 9 mile ride.
Then I will wrap up the story with the disappointed sheep lingering at the fence while I slowly rode away a bit further before lifting the bulging bag out of the trailer, placing it alongside the road for VDOT to pick up, and then turn facing into the frigid wind to race back home, thumb steadfast on the throttle, back to the house where warmth, relaxation, and a biscotti or two could be had to munch on while a short snowburst danced swiftly across the landscape obscuring everything in sparkling white .
It will be a nice story, with a nice flow to it full of cold, wind, and trash. And a sweet Class 2 ebike.
I'll start writing right after I take a well deserved nap.
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And indeed, a lopsided road-sign 
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Temps in California's Central Valley about 1hr west of us hit records yesterday, as high as 76°F!
