I started out from my house on a pristine clear day. My leather jacket was perfect for the morning cold, but as I rode deeper into over-cast weather..... the moisture in the air suddenly made me feel a bit under-dressed. I stopped, put on some warmer gloves, and pressed on.
The sleepy little Delta town of 'Islton' (famous for it's crawdads) was awaken by my D&D's as they popped & backfired upon deceleration; I smiled under my helmet. What I thought to be the agreed upon greasy-spoon was closed...... what to do? Off in the distance I spied another Triumph, so I set off for what appeared to be another diner. "Levee Café" was open just long enough for five lonely guys to share the company of one another on a day of Thanks. Thank God we weren't having to put up with the drama of family squabbles back on the home-front.
One by one we arrived, one by one the Triumphs were parked..... each blipping their throttles to the pulse of manly machismo and his much ridden Nor Cal Bonnie'. We got off the bikes, exchanged our pleasantries, and tried not to be spied looking at one another's mods.
The local Authority repeatedly cruised us like we were tickets in the waiting. One of us smiled, another nodded, but for the most part we tried to ignore the white cruiser as he made us nervous (each, and for our own various reasons).
Retreating into the Café, I've never seen a group of guys order breakfast so quickly....... completed in under two minutes, with the skill only bachelors could display..... "yes, separate tags please".
After breakfast, one of us had to take off for the familial gig. The rest of us rode along the river, winding in & out of the shaded overgrowth and speeding on an occasional stretch in the open. It was a bit chilly, but you might say it was a perrrrfect kind of chill.
We stopped, overlooking the function going on at the mansion beneath us, and fired up assorted cigars, cigarettes, and passed around the flask.
Though another one of us threatened to leave and do the right thing with HIS family, we coaxed him to a bar at the end of more winding roads and two ferry rides. He never made it, he did the 'right thing' instead, he motored on home.
At the Hotel del Rio, the drinks were on the house, Thanksgiving day and all..... Our -now- party of three sat and talked over one another. Every once in a while the noise was interrupted by the sound of a cat. Couldn't be that lady at the end of the bar, she was holding a dog..... THERE it was again! "Meooow..."
Damn African Grey in that cage at the doorway, was meow'ing like a cat!?!?! I walked over, leaned in closer to the cage.... It barked at me, "WHAT?" and then the damn bird did it again! "Meooow"..... This is too weird I thought, and started to walk away. "PHUCK YOU!" from the cage....
On NO he did NOT! Did that bird just....???? Yeah, repeated himself too!
We finished our drinks, moved it outside, and the slender owner of the bar put on her beanie helmet to take off that cherry '72 Black Sporty parked out front.
Needless to say, before we could mount our bikes..... the big guy who just drove up on his FLHT had to tell us about how he use to race his Triumph 650 up Pikes Peak. We nodded our heads knowingly, like..... we do it all the time ourselves on our 800cc Turnips.... Yeah, right...
The three of us said our good byes, pointed our bikes in three separate directions, and roared off for our homes..... to an empty house, no turkey, no sandwiches the following day. Each of us thankful on this day for money enough to put gas in the tank, and friends with whom to share a day along the Delta....
) it looks like again, no riding for me.
shop in Isleton? It's a fishing tackle shop and one of these days I need to ride out there and at least get a hat or t-shirt!