Weekend (mis)adventures
Aug. 11th, 2008 09:32 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snousleNot much happening just now, mostly working on stuff. I did make one trip this weekend, out to Guerneville where I crashed the night with Gary. Things were pretty quiet, perhaps since so many people were at Leather/Levi Weekend in Saratoga Springs.
The ride out in the evening was delightful. Despite the dry year, the countryside remains incredibly beautiful, even in August.
On the way back, I was about a mile off the highway and just a few miles from home when there was a loud "thunk" and the bike wobbled a bit. I stopped and discovered that my lower belt guard had dropped off, and had messed up the rear pulley in the process. (Sigh.) I couldn't get anyone on the phone, and of course the dealership was closed until Tuesday, so I had pulled my water bottle out of my bag and was just about to begin the long trudge up the hill when a neighbor came by with a pickup and gave me a ride home. Good timing. Another neighbor, Ron, offered the use of his trailer to pick the bike up, which was great since I didn't want to leave it on the side of the road for very long.
It turned out to be a good bonding experience, though one that left me feeling kind of wimpy and useless. Unlike me, these guys are Super Manly and are excellent at anything involving four wheel drive, straps, and towing. They seem to appreciate the chance to show it off, too. The trailer in particular was hardly larger than the bike itself, and it was necessary to tilt it down and drive the bike up the 30-degree slope of the bed all at once before tipping it back up. Just looking at it scared the SHIT out of me, so Ron did it instead. It wasn't any easier than it looked, but we got the thing on. Not sure how it's going to get off.
Of course, a real biker has to do this sort of thing all the time, but we poseurs with money and (mostly) reliable bikes haven't got a clue.
The whole affair was more than I'd bargained for, but despite my embarrassment at being the Damsel In Distress, it left me feeling very happy to live somewhere with friendly and supportive neighbors. A lot of people who live in rural areas don't know any of theirs, but here we're far enough out that at least some people (especially the guys that don't have day jobs) are eager to help out. Particularly when they can use their trucks and get them gassed up in the process.
The ride out in the evening was delightful. Despite the dry year, the countryside remains incredibly beautiful, even in August.
On the way back, I was about a mile off the highway and just a few miles from home when there was a loud "thunk" and the bike wobbled a bit. I stopped and discovered that my lower belt guard had dropped off, and had messed up the rear pulley in the process. (Sigh.) I couldn't get anyone on the phone, and of course the dealership was closed until Tuesday, so I had pulled my water bottle out of my bag and was just about to begin the long trudge up the hill when a neighbor came by with a pickup and gave me a ride home. Good timing. Another neighbor, Ron, offered the use of his trailer to pick the bike up, which was great since I didn't want to leave it on the side of the road for very long.
It turned out to be a good bonding experience, though one that left me feeling kind of wimpy and useless. Unlike me, these guys are Super Manly and are excellent at anything involving four wheel drive, straps, and towing. They seem to appreciate the chance to show it off, too. The trailer in particular was hardly larger than the bike itself, and it was necessary to tilt it down and drive the bike up the 30-degree slope of the bed all at once before tipping it back up. Just looking at it scared the SHIT out of me, so Ron did it instead. It wasn't any easier than it looked, but we got the thing on. Not sure how it's going to get off.
Of course, a real biker has to do this sort of thing all the time, but we poseurs with money and (mostly) reliable bikes haven't got a clue.
The whole affair was more than I'd bargained for, but despite my embarrassment at being the Damsel In Distress, it left me feeling very happy to live somewhere with friendly and supportive neighbors. A lot of people who live in rural areas don't know any of theirs, but here we're far enough out that at least some people (especially the guys that don't have day jobs) are eager to help out. Particularly when they can use their trucks and get them gassed up in the process.
