Well, Martha, I’d have to say the ride went pretty good. The weather was tolerable. Now, when a Southerner says the weather was “tolerable,” that generally means it didn’t kill anybody, so we count that as a victory. It got hot enough to make you wonder if you’d accidentally ridden straight into the gates of Hades. Then, just about the time you got good and sweaty, a rain shower would come along and cool you off. And just about the time you dried out enough to feel human agai

Well, as most of you are painfully aware, the Sandies have had themselves a rather adventurous month of Riding Adventures. We’ve ridden through weather, ridden through questionable decisions, and generally demonstrated that there are still a few things in life we have not yet learned to leave well enough alone. I’d like to tell you this weekend was just as adventurous. It wasn’t. This weekend, the Sandies apparently decided to check the “enjoy” box. And there ain’t a thing wr

125 Miles, 9 Sandies, and One Tortoise First, before anybody starts making nasty comments about the heat, let me say this: it was a pleasant ride. A perfectly pleasant ride. For the first 125 miles, anyway. We had nine Sandies rolling along, enjoying the morning, minding our own business and generally behaving like responsible adults who had somehow been allowed to own motorcycles. Then we opened the gates of Hell in Shalimar. You know that blast of heat you get when you open