Joe, Lee, Tom, and I planned a breakfast run to the Old Spanish Trail to take advantage of Saturday's weather.
Lee showed off his new look, "goateed intellectual." The Duke, looking over his shoulder, appears skeptical.
Is Lee giving me the stink-eye?
You can't tell from this picture, but there about a dozen sweetener packets in that stack, seeing as Crystal had kept us well coffee'd up.
We stopped at the Shell station on the way out of Bandera so Joe could gas up. He finished filling the bike, got on the bike, then back off, then back on. Lee and Tom and I wondered what the hell he was doing.
He finally pushed the bike from the gas pump over to the side where we were waiting, "It won't start," he lamented.
We all unhooked our heated vests and mp3 players so we could gather 'round his bike and troubleshoot.
Headlights and turn signals worked fine, so it had battery. However, the headlight didn't dim when he pressed the starter button. In fact, nothing happened when he pressed the starter button.
Hmmm, sidestand or clutch safety interlock failure? (keeps the starter from engaging if the sidestand is down or the clutch is not pulled in.)
We fiddled with all the wiring on those two parts--no joy.
Next, Joe pulled off the seat so we could check the fuses. Damn, can't find the fuse box.
Just for grins, I held the starter button, and Joe held in the clutch while Tom poked his finger in random places in the wiring. Voila! She fired right up when Tom poked the positive battery terminal connection.
Looks like it was a loose connection.
Joe, Tom, and Tom's "magic finger."
We rode on to the picnic table overlook near Lost Maples. Damn, it's a pretty view:
There was a couple there on their Kawasaki Concours, so we struck up a conversation.
Turns out they were all the way from Illinois, down enjoying our "winter" weather. We asked where they'd ridden, and where they were planning to ride. Joe recommended some good roads, as well as lunch at the OST. (I saw them there on my way home.)
Here they are, Wayne and Ginny Sweet.
Departing the picnic table.
On my way home, via Utopia.
You know, I have no business complaining about how cluttered our 1800 square foot house is.
Hey! There's something by the road. Is it a groundhog?
Nope, unless they've taken to wearing armor.
The animals were glad to have me back.
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