home is where the mess isI made it home today from my a bike trip and if you're reading this as past tense I'll wrap up what you'll see in the next few posts. You won't see a couple posts I made two days ago around a campfire in Colorado. I've been posting from a cell phone via email and it didn't work every time for some reason.
I've wrapped up a 4300 miles bike trip which was almost two weeks of bliss where rode from Minneapolis, MN to Tucson, AZ and back. The main leg was an attempt to join the Ironbutt Club by driving 1,000 miles in 24 hours. After that I decided to tack on another 500 miles for their 1500 miles in 36 hours "bun burner."
I drove to Tucson to visit my little sister who was graduating then catch Monument Valley and other assorted 4 corners scenery on the way back with a stop by my in-laws in Denver. I arrived back home a couple of hours ago and am doing laundry and unloading pictures. Mr. Windsor N. Coke is visiting as we listen to the Skatalites. He reassures me the overgrown lawn can wait.
Sid the cat is having some serious separation anxiety. I've removed him from the keyboard 1/2 a dozen times so he's laying down right on the edge of it in front of the monitors.
Nothing wrecks a nice bike like repeated road trips. It's picked up dings, scratches and all manner of scarring that has permanently made this poor thing a functional motorcycle and no longer a flashy cruising vessel.
One of the biggest offenders to this bike's pride is the insect. If Starship Troopers has taught us anything, it's that creatures with ecto skeletons are not to be trusted whether they're beetles, ladybugs, big black aliens or a robo-cop. Good grief, even Doogie Howser knows the eminent danger of these beasties that out number humans several times over.
Despite the numerous kamikaze missions launched against us, recreation prevailed and a good time was had by all - except the bugs. You fought well my persistent brethren. You have not died in vain.