It's beginning to look a lot like...

 

Stupid.  So much stupid.

I was getting ready to go for a ride, when some dumbass on a ratty red scooter rode off the path that runs behind our site and through our site.  I didn't expect to see that, and he obviously wasn't expecting to come almost face to face with someone.  I barely got out "What the hell?" and he was riding away.

I don't know if he was ignorant or stupid.  There is a difference: you can fix ignorant if the person is willing to learn... you can't fix stupid.  There are rules here that you should not walk through any site that isn't yours.  Pretty sure that covers riding ratty old scooters, as well.  On my way out of the resort, I did stop at the Security shack to let them know to keep an eye out for a twenty-something (so, not technically a kid) on a ratty red scooter (maybe a Honda Spree) with no license plate.  "It would probably be better if you talk to him before I run into him again."  The security lady agreed.

It's another hot day today - I got out before 10:00, and it was already 81º.  I got out on the highway and passed three over-length semis pulling double trailers loaded with gravel.  I got a bad feeling in my stomach when I saw them turn onto Hwy 36, the same road I was taking.  I said to myself, "Self, I sure hope they aren't heading for Iron Mountain Road."  I put that terrible thought out of my head and started carving some corners.  All too soon, I came up behind a Slingshot (3-wheeler); I said to myself, "Self, this shouldn't be bad - these Slingshot drivers are usually enthusiasts."  Not this time.  There are a couple places here in the Hills that rent these things, and this one was being driven by an elderly (kettle?)  guy who seemed to be fearful of pushing down on the gas pedal.  Maybe it had a speed governor on it that was set for 18 mph, as that seemed to be the fastest speed he could achieve on the straight sections... and definitely slower on the curvy parts.  I was patient (to a point), hoping he would pull off on one of the turnouts.  When he passed by two of those at his blazing 18 mph (the speed limit is 35 in this section), it was clear that he had no regard for anyone else on the road, so I down-shifted and blew by him in what isn't technically a Passing Zone, but I figured no jury would convict me, given the circumstances.

I was now able to go fast enough to stir a bit of breeze and the temperature continued to climb.  I came around another curve, and... "Oh, shit - another one!"  Yep, another Slingshot being driven by another old guy - no doubt they are traveling together.  The reason this guy was in front of the other one was because his Slingshot was apparently governed at 19 mph, allowing him to leave the other guy in his dust.  I didn't wait for a turnout to give this guy the benefit of the doubt, and quickly had him disappearing in my rear-view mirror.  Bliss.

As I came around another curve right before the Iron Mountain Road Store, there was an orange sign (Flagman Ahead)... "Oh, please don't screw up this lovely road," said a voice in my helmet.  Even though his sign was turned to "Slow" instead of "Stop," I stopped to visit with the flagman.  "What's going on?" I asked.

He said, "We have three double trailer trucks coming this way with loads of gravel, and they sometimes have to use the whole road around some of these tight curves.  I'm just warning people to slow down, but they are behind you, so no problem for you."

I had to ask: "Are you going to chip-seal this road?"

"No, this is for Playhouse Road, so it won't affect Iron Mountain Road other than when we're bring trucks in."  Big sigh from inside my helmet.  If you've been keeping track, Joan and I are frequently on Playhouse Road to get to Iron Mountain Road - this is for the portion of Playhouse that is within Custer State Park; that road was in awful shape last year and has been closed since we've been here.  It is in dire need of repair.

Relieved that they weren't going to screw up one of my favorite roads, I moved on.  Lots of open road in front of me until a mile or so before the View Turnout Parking Lot... two vehicles were obviously having a slow race, the one in front coming to a stop as it approached the hairpin curves.  Since we were close to the parking area, I figured I'd pull in there and get some cold water out of my top case.  Both of those cars turned into the View Area, so I went around the rear of the one that was taking forever to actually turn off the road.

Not another vehicle in front of me the rest of Iron Mountain Road - a real delight.  I did stop in a shady spot in a pullout right before one of those fun pig-tail bridge/curves.  Five minutes to take a few drinks of cold water and get this photo...

Then, clear riding ahead.  With the heat, I decided to take the highway back after going through Keystone (about half the parking spaces there on the main drag were empty).  I stopped for gas on the way back: 74 mpg.  No one at the gas pumps at the station where I usually stop.  With 3 empty pumps, a family in a pickup pulling a travel trailer pulled up behind me.  I was enjoying the shade while I pumped, but being a considerate guy, I pulled forward (into the sun) to reset my trip odometer and figure my gas mileage.

Back at Hart Ranch, I stopped at the Lodge to check mail - I'm expecting the license plate back plate from ADV for my bike (it's been over 3 weeks and they said it would take two).  When I asked for my mail at the Mail Room, the nice lady there said, "Someone else picked that up a little while ago."

"A pretty blonde?" I asked.

"Yes, she was very pretty."

"I guess she was being nice in picking it up for me."

Joan had gone to the grocery store while I went out for a ride.  I'll get that back plate on my bike when she gets back (and brings us pizza).

-------

The Blonde is home, the pizza was tasty, and I have the new license plate backing plate on.  97º and the sun is blazing.  The top case on my bike was exposed to the sun during the few minutes I was messing with the backing plate, and it was too hot to touch.  I call it candy-ass.

Joan asked, "Are we less tolerant these days?"

I said, "Absolutely - not about race or sexual preference or any of that stuff, but I can't hardly take all the stupid out there.  Oh, you meant about the heat, huh?"

We have joked about her "comfort range," which goes from 72º to 78º.  ;-)  That gives her a limited time to be out.  Also a joke.  We used to say that we can tolerate the heat better than we can the cold.  That was when we lived in the frozen northland.  Visiting with our kid the other day, the thought of having to be where it is 110º or hotter for days in a row would make me reconsider living where it is cold again.  Nah... we just have to find that place where it never gets above 78 or below 72... in my dreams.