After a long weekend of traveling back and forth to Boston for the IRE Conference, and up and down the Jersey Shore for Father’s Day, I’m restless for two wheels.
FRENCH TOAST+ WAFFLES
I was lucky enough to hang out with Walter over the weekend. He’s an unbelievable builder, and an even friendlier person.
There is no better place to feel the shifting weather than on two wheels.
The chill that used to rattle your insides going down the highway two months ago, it’s gone.
It’s no longer spring — the time when late at night the temperatures still dipped down near freezing. It’s summer.
That bit of cold you felt two weeks ago, when you road down that country road and banked into a patch of uncomfortable air, has left as well.
The leaves have their color back.
The deer are no longer darting out into your path. They no longer have to run through the night to keep warm.
In central Jersey, you can ride along the Atlantic without a jacket. You don’t even need a hoodie.
It’s fine enough to cruise along Ocean Ave. in 501 Levis, high-top Chuck T’s, mechanics gloves and a t-shirt.
Your hand dangling down at the primary. The other sitting on the throttle. Your feet kicked out in front of you. And, the breeze running up your pant leg.
Here’s to the changing of the seasons; Here’s to motorcycling weather.
Well, at least I know what I’m doing after work…