Thursday, March 6, 2014

Dumbass Days...

It happens.  You think you have everything rolling smoothly, and then... a dumbass attack.

Nothing scheduled for the day, we decided to find some new city roads that we haven't covered on the scooters.  I suggested heading east and just seeing where the road takes us.  With that agreed, I went out to the trailer to get the scoots ready...

I saw it right away: the key on my scoot was turned... as in: on.  Yep - dead battery.  I checked Joan's bike - it was fine.  I'm the one who puts 'em away and gets them out; can't believe I wouldn't see the headlight glowing in the trailer, but here we are.

We have a battery charger in our storage area; Joan got it out while I opened up the battery compartment under the seat of the scooter.  This charger doesn't have a "start" setting on it - 10 amps is the best you get.  I left the charger on it for a half hour and tried the key - the bike fired right up.

The best way to charge the battery: ride the scoot and let the alternator do what it does.  We put on helmets and headed east.  Well, when I put on the helmet, it pulled my glassed down off my ears... I started over.  Something didn't feel right, but I got the helmet on and we rolled.

Less than an hour into the ride, I started to develop a headache - I could fee the helmet pressing against the top of my forehead.  I mentioned it to Joan and she said, "Your glasses are sitting odd on your face."

We continued our ride, then made a plan for a lunch stop... a Mexican place that Steph and Dan had introduced us to last month...

My motto: live to ride, ride to eat.  When I took my helmet off, Joan said, "You have a huge crease on your forehead."  I felt up there... sure enough, you could put a pencil in the crease.  I knew something didn't feel right with my helmet.  I checked the liner in the helmet, and everything seemed fine.  We went in for lunch, my head felt better, and I didn't give it any thought.

After lunch, back to the bikes.  When I pulled the helmet on, I left my sunglasses off... the liner in the helmet wasn't touching the place with the crease.  I figured out what was going on: I had the helmet sitting further back, trying to not mash my ears with the glasses and the helmet.

On the bright side, the bike fired right up after lunch.  Joan suggested, "Let's ride northwest 'till we come to 303, take the long way home, keep the speed up, and let your battery get a good charge."

"Sounds like a plan."

In places, the speed limit on the 303 Loop is 65 mph.  The GPS matched up to the speedometer right up to 65.  The helmet was feeling comfortable again.  It was a nice ride - not a ton of traffic, we covered a good portion of the north side of Phoenix.  High thin clouds today, but the temp was still in the lower 80s... nice riding conditions.  One other thing I discovered about the GPS: exceed the speed limit by up to 5 mph, and the speed readout turns yellow; above 5 mph over, it turns red.

When we got home, I took the helmet off and could still feel the creases... an hour and a half later...

No, not the ones caused by age on my lower forehead, the indentation at the top of my forehead.  The headache was gone, but the crease was still there as a reminder: helmet first, then sunglasses.

I took Izzy for a walk.  She got a little miffed when she heard some people walking by say, "Look - a cat on a leash.  That is just ridiculous."  I told Iz to ignore that woman... she is obviously a dumbass.  ;-)

One observation today: we drove by a place called Central Latino Tax Service.  It was in an area that appeared to be mostly Hispanic.  Nothing new for us, since the county we live in at home is about 85% Hispanic.  I just thought the name of the tax place seemed a bit exclusive.  If someone opened a tax service where we are staying and called it "Old White Guys Tax Service," I'm guessing someone would object to that.  Maybe for "old", maybe for "white", maybe for "guys"?  ;-)

Oh, and I double checked the bike when I put it away - nothing left on.


Bill K said...

Maybe you should put a mirror on the front wall of the trailer. :))

Bill Kelleher

Captain Jim and the Blonde said...

I would be flinching every time I pulled into the trailer, with that crazy-ass guy on the bike coming at me!! ;-)