Monday Morning Memories

Just sitting here in front of the ol' computer reflecting on the decent ride I had yesterday out in the Pachaug forest.
I felt good and felt that I rode well.
I didn't crash and didn't make any boneheaded decisions that got me into trouble.

The bike worked and felt phenomenal, as usual - I am sooooooo glad I finally got off my ass last weekend and put a Bridgestone M22 tire back on the rear like I always run.
The bike feels so much better because of it.

The only real drag with riding in the Pachaug forest is that the place is littered with rocks.
All kinds and all sizes, and they're all over the place.
When you're on a trail section that's actually free of them, it's like a treat that doesn't last too long, unfortunately.
I've read about the trails in Massachusetts on their state land, and want to go check these out sometime this year.
I'm not fond of driving the distance, but from what I've read, they're supposed to be quite good.
I'll find out.

One big thing that riding at Pachaug does have going for it is that it's so close to me.
I'll truck my WR-250FY the 13 miles up to the place I work, unload on the loading dock out back, park my truck in the back lot, gear-up, have a swig of water, and hit the trails, which start only about a mile and a half from where I'm parked.
This, people, is very convenient.
Ever notice how convenience is very convenient? :)
I'll even bring my week's supply of fruit with me, unlock the door on the side of the building facing the highway, turn off the alarm, and put my big pile of pears and bananas on my desk.
This beats the crap out of having to lug them while riding in on Monday morning in my backpack.

I rode from 6:30pm until 8:00 pm, which is when dusk is setting in.
A good time.
I can't say enough about the stability of the WR-250FY and it's good overall feel.
If I've got the nerve to keep the throttle open and don't chicken-out, this bike will seemingly climb anything.
This is very good over the rocks, especially the areas where there are so many on the ground, you can't see any actual dirt, and you may as well be riding over golf ball-sizes ball bearings.
I like my WR. :)
Because of these good feelings, I have no trouble washing the bike up squeaky clean as soon as I get home, even though going inside for some din-dins seems very appealing at the moment.
Hey, if you wanna' play, you gotta' pay, and there's only one guy in this big, bad world who's gonna' look after the WR for me:
Me.
Because, you see, while washing your bike, not only are you removing the dirt you just accumulated, but you're also looking at and touching the bike.
If you want to examine the condition of your bike, you have to see it up close and personal.

A funny moment happened at the Shell gas station/Ghandi mart out in front of our shop.
There is usually a couple of nice blonde girls working there at different parts of the week, and I ain't seen them in a couple of weeks, now.
The person who was there was the head Ghandi, the guy who runs (and might own) the place, a guy named Shawn (or is it spelled Sean?)
I mentioned how I'd seen him manning the counter a lot lately and that I'd been missing the blonde that should have been there (because she looks a whole lot better to me than he does - sorry, Shawn or Sean :) ).
He then went into a minor tyrade, letting out his frustrations about how his employees are sometime a big pain in his ass with all of the no-shows because of break-ups with boyfriends, not getting a babysitter, feeling depressed, etc, etc.
I wouldn't be surprised if not having any more white fingernail polish topped the list of excuses.
I found this quite amusing, but he was so worked-up over it, I was secretly hoping he wasn't carrying a gun.
Who knows what might have happened. :)

Off to jerk.

-John