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It doesn't get much better in what has become my life. Thursday was the last work shift before 21 days off. Packed a bag, wiped the bike down, waxed the chain, and headed for the Four Corners and a Baseball tournament. Two hundred miles of fast roads with plenty of bear bait, dodging thunderstorms in desert skies. Stayed with an old friend on the lake, sampling local brews, forgetting to bait a hook. Fell into the water at dawn, rode mountain backroads 'til noon, napped in a mossy spruce forest at 10,000 feet, ate a green chile buffalo burger at a hole-in-the-wall with four calendars, carved turns in little traffic all the way back to the ball park. Saw the home run derby and three great innings before the sky opened, spent the rest of the eve at the Hiway Grill swappin' back slaps and stories with old conspiritors. They finished the rain-out early next morn, and I was there for the warm-up. They finished the opening round of games close to midnight, and I was there when the lights dimmed. Bleacher butt and biker butt are similar sensations. Slept like a fossil. I took all day to ride home, intending to take every side road and enter every open door on the way. Most of the side roads turned into sticky clay, and not every door was open, but I met some good people and saw some new country. My beautiful lady was still here when I got back, my dog seemed happy to see me, and I've still got more than two weeks off! :razz:
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Sometimes the best tool in the box is a mirror...
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