Early this afternoon we strapped a helmet to the sissybar on the Spouse Thingy's bike--facing backwards--and dropped the passenger pegs, and headed out for a ride. We were headed for a doctor's appointment, but that wasn't our primary objective; today's ride was a memorial for Conor Murphy. He was never able to ride a motorycle himself, but he did ride pillion (heh...otherwise known a bitch) with his son Ian frequently. (Aye, son, I'll be yer bitch today.. )
"If it feels like someone is pinching your nipples," Ian warned, "it's him. He always did that to me when he thought I was going too fast."
To be fair, I did pass along the warning to the Spouse Thingy, lest he wonder at some point why it felt as if he was being molested at 55 mph. But, apparently we were not riding too fast, as neither one of us got a weird little thrill along the way.
Overall we went a little more that 55 miles, with a stop in the middle to get my wrist x-rayed (sprain, no big deal) and to have lunch (Panda Express...yum.)
All weekend we had winds here that were too stiff to bother taking the bike and scooter out, but I was determined to ride for Mr. Murphy no matter the weather today. We got up this morning, and the gusts of the weekend were gone... nothing but calm, and the temperatures in the 70s--perfect for a long ride. Nice.
I have to wear a wrist brace, but hey...it wasn't broken. Nice.
And tonight we got a pre-approval on a mortgage, so as long as we can get out of our lease, we'll have one more move to torture the cats with, and never again. Verrrry nice.