Monday, December 29, 2008


Carrie can attest to all of this, but it may be more comfortable to not ask her opinion. I am suffering from 2-wheeled withdrawals somethin fierce. This snow is about to make a not-swear-er start rippin off lots of naughty-list-making words because of this dang snow! Whys is so freakin cold and everywhere!

Rain goes away. Maybe you get 2 weeks of rain, but then it drains. Snow, especially in stupid Utah valley, just sits on the roads, in driveways, in piles left by the plow idiots on the back of driveways blocking people in, EVERYWHERE! Except empty parking lots where it is useful. And, I'll have you know, I have gotten to put my snow idiocy to use in some situations where the car did not want to turn normally, so I got to play mode and stayed safe. It works.

But anyway, last Tuesday, Carrie and the girls and I went to Salt Lake to see the temple lights and buy chocolate at Caputo's. And, while we were going anyway, I requested a stop at the Triumph store in North Salt Lake. I got to sit on several short-list dream bikes and make engine noises in my head. I have been looking at so many bikes online, Carrie wants to throw a heavy, dull object at the computer. Well, at me - the computer is rather inanimate and therefore impervious to blame.

I am day-dreaming all the time about the first 10 bikes I want to get when I theoretically finish school, get a job, and start getting paid. I want comfortable air shooting up my sleeves and up the front of my helmet as I waft along straddling a big piece of machinery. I love sliding my butt off the seat and leaning into turns. I love taking off from stoplights with my feet dragging until I have to shift. I love smoking idiots in cars who are actually trying to race, then backing off and letting them fly by in a fit of attempted glory. I love being so involved in the whole process and feeling the camaraderie with other fools like me on the road - but not scooter riders. They are wannabes. The left-hand-down, two-finger wave between brothers on bikes feels good.

I don't showboat, and I don't push things. I don't have close calls anymore - not since week two, really. But I do have my bike under a cover under a foot of snow, and it bites. If snow was a person, I would probably fight him.

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