The clavicle has healed. Time to ride.
Yesterday, Tropical Storm 'what ever' came through the mid-atlantic. All-in-all; a wet, miserable day. The Harley and the Ninja sat behind the new garage doors, waiting for a time when they could emerge once again into the sunshine.
Sunday arrived sunny and cool - albeit with small branches and lots of leaves everywhere. At mid morn, the Kid comes downstairs asking "Want to go for a ride? Got time?" I almost fell from my chair.
"Sure," I replied. He hasn't wanted to ride with me ever I since I broke my collar bone.
We take a leisurely ride on a back road and then hopped onto I-70 for the short hop back. He led on the outbound leg, I passed him on the interstate and led coming home.
"You need more practice," he said as he pulled off his helmet.
"It was the exit ramp...?" I asked.
He nodded.
"That. And the fact you we speeding - almost 90 MPH - on the freeway." he said.
No way. I was watching my speed closely - no more than 70, 75 tops. But he disagrees and says either my speedo is off or his is. I suspect he was looking at his tach...
Later, I back the Harley back out for another trip. He just watches but doesn't move to join me.
"Another time," he says.
"Sure," I said. "There's always time..."
Let's ride.
