For the last two weeks my wife and I have been trying to go on a ride for our weekly date. The first attempt got derailed by projectile vomit coming from everyone at our house at ten-minute intervals for a twenty-four hour period. I think Bill Engvall was onto something when he suggested a baby puke alarm clock. So last Saturday we were determined to go, but the only problem was it was 36 degrees and trying to snow, but with my wife’s coaxing we went anyway. The plan was to ride from Roberts to Hamer across the desert, along the wetland, to sand hole station for lunch — then back. We made it half way and were almost frozen so we enacted plan B and rode back to the car then drove to the old Watson’s bar in Menan that has been converted into a restaurant. I had a burger and my wife had a salad. I’m not a food critic, and for good reason, probably because price plays too heavily into the equation for me. My philosophy is what’s the best I can get for less than $10 per person. Therefore when the price exceeds $10 I have a hard time focusing on the flavor and quality of the food because one of the parameters is already out of whack, but that being said I would eat there again.
Sorry I got side tracked by vomit and food, now back to the focus, the bike. Not much to report, because in my mad dash to leave I didn’t adjust the shocks or tighten the chain. Although I did notice that both bikes started and ran exceptionally well considering the near freezing temperatures. Other bikes I’ve owned in the past haven’t been so cold-weather friendly, rather, they have been more of the cold blooded variety.