As a child, i spent countless hours looking through a scrapbook of pictures, brouchures, ticket stubs and postcards that my parents loosely stuffed into its pages. Before I was a twinkle in their eyes, mom & dad spent a few months like vagabonds touring the country in my mom's 68 Firebird. I poured over pictures of them sharing coffee over a campfire, my dad laughing as he shaved in a roadside reststop, my gorgeous mom in her hip huggers standing in the roadway with a wild Burro. It was all so glamorous to me, so full of life and adventure.

It felt like coming full circle for me when i passed a sign in Wyoming that I had seen in one of my parents' travel photos. I doubled back to take one of my own. Like me, the town was all grown up now it's population swelling from 6 in mom and dad's photo, to 10 in mine.

I don't know what the sign meant to my childish mind or why i would have even remembered it out of all those pages and pictures, but time had embedded it into my subconscious. Was it the name of the town, Emblem? Was it the idea that only 6 people lived there? I can't know. But what i do know is that it was somehow placed on my life's To-Do list without me even realizing it.

I certainly feel like my wanderlust and love of motorcycles were passed down into the marrow of my bones from mom & dad. Maybe someday too my little girl will travel over the miles that brought me joy and find happiness there too in her own way.

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My long standing fascination with the BMW 1150/12GSs is no secret to anyone who knows me. Outside of the sheer expense of obtaining one of the new big GSs, I also have a well documented fear of not being able to work with the big, tall, behemoth if I were to get it into a position that isn't "perfect". So I carry on with my someday pipedream and enjoy the fantasy of being able to handle the big GS on one foot, in loose gravel, facing downhill on a slope in the rain.

Then my dear friend whose name i will change to... um, let's see.. Craig... comes along with this: "This might be right up your alley...", "F800GS... Just your size.."

Do I need this shit from you, Craig? Do i need to know that the big lug of my misty eyed fantasy has a little brother that is just my size? And i know, i just KNOW it is dying to go home with me. I thought you were my friend but what do you do? You fill my obsessive mind with possibility. Now for the last few days I have been haunted by "maybe" and "I think there is room in the garage."

I'm in hell. I need to sell a kidney.

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the heart is. That's pretty much what I've been up to for the last month or so. I've been so wrapped up in the daily goings-on of my family, working on our little house and my new job, I haven't really even kicked around the idea of going out for a ride, really.  That being said, everything has just been really good. Consistantly good-er than i can remember everything being in quite some time. I'm really greatful.

I did pop out this evening to grab a cup of cawfee and meet up with some of the guys. It felt like I haven't seen anyone in ages and was as always, good to see everyone after a long spell away. I guess you can always come home.

I think I've discovered the secret of life - you just hang around until you get used to it.
- Charles M. Schulz

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Along Palmer Avenue in Mamaroneck, NY sits a pagoda that has been servin' up split hotdogs since 1928. Walter's Hotdogs has been in business since 1919, so they must be doing something right. We decided to see for ourselves on Sunday afternoon. Afterall, who could resist eating a hotdog outside at a picnic table next to a Chinese pagoda in Westchester? Right?

I loved the mustard :)

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I know, I know. It's hallowed. Work with me, people. Sheesh.

On Sunday we had a few hours out on the bikes. It was the first time out in quite a few weeks. We meandered up around Bear Mountain, where there were a bazillion bikes at the gas station at the traffic circle by Camp Smith.

No surprise, as folks started filtering out in groups, the State Troopers who were waiting like sharks behind a neighboring building charged to pull people over. With that, we waited around a few more minutes and leisurely made our way southeast towards home.

Along the way, we made a little detour throught the town of Sleepy Hollow, of course made famour by Washington Irving's The Legend of Sleepy Hollow. Unfortunately we didn't set out on a walking tour, but it certainly looks like it would be quite a charming place to wander around.

(pay no attention to my overdue inspection sticker)

It was a fitting time of year to blow through and I'd cetainly like to go back and explore when we have more time to really look around. I hope my life's To-Do List never really catches up to the I've-Done List. There is always something to look forward to.

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