Each month there’s a non-organized group of bikers who meet for breakfast in Brookings, a small coastal town in southern Oregon. We sit around and tell lies, eat too much, and weather permitting some go for a ride while others go home and mow the lawn. Today was a bit nippy, the outside temps were typical for this time of year so most people drove non-biker type vehicles. (aka "cages")I think there were around a half dozen bikes total. I tend to lean a bit towards masochistic tendencies so I rode down, around 90 miles each way. Heated grips and an electric vest do wonders for one’s macho persona, right?
On the way I stopped in Port Orford for a quick photo of the sunrise, then again a few miles further south where I was attacked by dinosaurs. True. Every word is gospel. On the way home I got to test the water resistance properties of my Aerostich Roadcrafter costume. Brrrr... Have a nice day.
PS - Oh yeah, almost forgot. On the way down to Brookings I was just south of Langlois, one of our local wide spots in the road and home to the world famous Greasy Spoon cafe when a nice herd of Elk decided to cross the road in front of me. Being the clever sort that I am I rode past them and stopped a couple of hundred yards up the road. Hopping off the bike, I grabbed my camera for the photo op of the year. I dialed in on them with the telephoto at full max and clicked off at least a dozen shots, some of which were pretty good I thought. As I was walking back to the bike I flipped open the little view screen for a quick look and there displayed for all the world to see was the "no image card" message. Jesus Larry, pay attention! I quickly located a backup card, inserted it into the camera and sprinted back down the road just in time to glimpse the last bull disappearing into the trees. Perfect. Just freaking perfect. Way to go LL.