Sunday's Ride - Another View -- STAR 117 Forum

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Date Posted: 19:58:36 08/17/03 Sun
Author: Bob
Subject: Sunday's Ride - Another View

The pres usually puts the events to words; however, for Sunday's ride (17
Aug), I thought I'd add my own - BIPOLAR - view:

The pessimist:

Hot.

Humid.

Who, in thier right mind, would take a motor - mounted on metal -
surrounded in reflective chrome and heat-absorbing vinyl -- then take this
contraption and in the heat of August to go for a ride across the panhandle
into Alabama and back?

Me!

Just call me a masochist...

So I get on the road and ride to a closed dealership. No coffee. Little
shade. No refreshments for sale (or chrome either.) I stand around,
sweating. Did I mention hot?

The group hits the road, and get seperated before the ride begins. Good
thing the group has style. We in the back get caught up and head west.

It's August, there's a 30% chance of rain - which translated to a 100%
chance of rain in 30% of the weather channel's viewing area. More
specifically, a 100% chance of rain where women (who will remain un-named)
are rain magnets. A Woman who share much in common with rain: a name with
four letters - "rain" has four letters.

She - and the rain - were there. Not a drizzle. No. That might be
enjoyable. Not rain. Water hitting you in the face at 40 - 60 miles per
hour is NOT rain. My face stinging, my eyes obscured with rain water is
not fun. The guys on the weather channel get paid to stand in tropical
force wind and rain. We induced our own. I am a masochist - riding with
masochists.

Pity.

The road captain felt my pain (or his own) and pulled into a covered gas
station so we could put on our rain suits. Plastic covers designed to
repel water and keep the undergarmets dry. That is a good thing. Going
home to the wife with blue underwear muttering another woman's name leads
to all kinds of trouble.

Now, covered in plastic, I am prepared for the worst fate (another
four-letter word) can dish out. We hit the road - asking for more stinging
high-velocity water pellets. Dressed for the occasion, we brave the worst
"rain" and "wind" (notice the four letter word pattern here?) have to
offer. Many a car-driver passed us wondering where our minds were. Little
did most know about something called the 60s...

Then, as we settled into a pattern of endurance and bravado, "fate"
changed it's mind. The "rain" stopped. The sun emerged. Not just any
sun. A yellow-white giant with extra micro-wave radiation. I felt like a
turkey, wrapped in foil, in a convection oven - on high.

Fortunately, as the pounds melted away, the road captain again felt my
pain (or his own...) We pulled into another gas station. I haven't seen
that many adults strip that fast since my 1st love-fest (if you weren't
there in the 60s - don't ask.) It was like a dozen burittos simotaneously
shedding thier tortilla coverings! Good thing the police weren't around.
So many questions - so few answers...

The ride encompassed over 240 miles of salt laden air. My skin was sticky
sweet - and no one there to lick it clean. I felt like a popsicle without
a child to fullfill my destiny. The road captain thought it would be fun
to pass the designated turn north to head further west down a sandy road,
yards from the gulf on one side, the bay on the other. Double dose of
salt, sand, and a destination to nowhere. Once the road captain and pres
decided I was basted and salty enough, they decided to turn back.

My gas tank cried out "Feed Me Seymour!" We passed a gas station. Then
another. It's hard to focus when you're expecting the inevitable lurch
associated with gas not reaching the engine at 55 mph.

Hunger. Did I mention stomach pains? 2 p.m. comes and goes, and I'm 120
minutes past my designated feeding time. The grass on the side of the road
was looking good, not for smoking either!

Well, that's the pessismistic side.....

Now, the optimist speaks:

A wonderful ride. Bart did a wonderful job showing us the scenic routes
of the emerald coast and the gulf shores of Alabama.

Great people. Wonderful usage of road space, spacing, safety, and hand
signals.

Truely scenic, refreshing, and different. Some nice riding roads, and a
wide variety of weather to accomodate all tastes. It was a different ride
from many that we've taken, not a complaint, just an invigorating change of
pace for "the nrom."

The ferry was unique. I have not been on a ferry since 1975. Wow,
memories.

The food was great! I don't know what the cook thought when he/she saw
all those orders. But he/she did an awesome job. Hostess Gloria passed
out the menus to accelerate the process - ok; she was starved.

It was the kind of ride that made me want more that week, when I get
together with a few friends - like you all - to just ride the region. No
timelines, no rushing, no deadlines. Just exploring, laughing, and living
life in a way only a select few can appreciate.

Thank you Bill, for the coordination and delegation as you lead the
chapter into the next era.

Thank you Bart, for the great route and scenery!

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