My wife checked the forecast for the weekend, and monitored during the week. Saturday is our weekend getaway.
The forecast calls for rain, but my wife says, screw it, we're riding anyway. She knew I'd be up for it. Motto: If you don't ride in the rain, you don't ride.
My mom arrives to watch the kids. She's giving my wife and me our 17th wedding anniversary present -- a chance to get away.
I checked the air pressure and oil level in the bikes before the trip. My tires are fine, my oil is half a quart low. Ironically, her oil is fine, her tires are 10 pounds low. I pump up her tires and vow to buy a quart of 10W-40 for my bike at our first gas stop.
We picked our way south from Castleton down Fall Creek Road. The sun shone brightly and the color in the trees contrasted with the blue of the autumn sky. Was that a hint of dark clouds to the south?
We rode to the south side of Indy, picked up the key to the lake house. Back on the road, pushed our way south down US 31, about an hour's ride, to Camp Atterbury. On twisty roads up and down, flicking the bike from left to right. The roads were in good shape. We had driven them several times in a cage, but this was our first trip on the bikes.
Vigilant for what might greet us over the top of the next rise or around the next curve. A farm implement? A golden retriever? A white-tailed deer?
My wife led on her V30, and I was impressed with how confidently she flicked the little bike back and forth. It started to rain, just little drops, and we pulled back the pace a little. The first 15 minutes of rain are the most dangerous.
We arrived at the lake house, parked the bikes and pulled our luggage off the bikes -- from my trunk, and her saddlebags -- and into the 3 story 4 bedroom house that sits on a tree covered bank of Lake Sweetwater.
My wife was cold. She made us a pot of coffee and we planned our day.
I put the lining in my coat, she switched to her new winter gloves, and we headed back to the bikes.
It had stopped raining.
.... more to come ....
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