Rides Of March

I confess right off the bat that this little account is a shameless borrowing from the notion of the Ides of March. Mr. Shakespeare may object, but as he ain’t here to complain, I will steal the reference.

Five Sandies set out and traveled 135 miles through the Southern countryside, the sort of country that makes a man believe spring was invented here first and merely exported to the rest of the world afterward. The dogwoods were showing off in white and pink, the azaleas were acting like they owned the place, and the camellias were standing around looking dignified about it all. Even the pecan trees were beginning to stir.

Now the pronunciation of pecan has caused more argument among Sandies than it has any right to. Some say puh-cahn, which sounds civilized enough. But down in lower Georgia, think Bobby B, they say pee-can, which Bobby says it’s true. Still, however a man chooses to say it, the trees looked fine and seemed satisfied with themselves.

To say it was a fine day to ride a motorcycle would be like saying the Pacific Ocean is somewhat inclined toward saltiness. It is technically true, but it fails miserably to convey the scale of the matter. Riders are familiar with this sort of understatement, though sometimes it must be explained for the benefit of Sandies.

JoeJoe had returned and was very nearly in his usual JoeJoe condition. He had recently paid a brief and unwelcome visit to the local emergency room. It turned out to be nothing serious, though it did provide sufficient excitement for the Sandies.

Tim paused his ongoing travel’s s long enough to ride join us. He has acquired a 2026 Can-Am Spyder Sea to Sky, which stands at the very summit of the Can-Am Spyder universe and looks as though it knows it. As Li’l Abner once observed, if your old enough or memory not averse to remember Li’l Abner, “dang sure as pretty as a speckled pup under a cabbage leaf.” Unfortunately most of todays folks have regulated Li'l Abner to the dustbin of history.

I am bound to say that on that particular day, rolling through blooming countryside with the road unwinding ahead. We found the tight width country roads just gorgeous enough to enjoy the spring greenery.

We took lunch at Summers Kitchen in Florala. Keeping with the obvious Southern feel of the day. Summers Buffet took that feeling to heart, fantastic fried chicken the true Southern bird. Fried Pork chops good enough to cure any number of ailments. Not to leave out the Southern version of pure goodness, Banana pudding. All this goodness had to be washed down with sweet tea.  Mark Twain used to call Southern sweet tea “Southern Wine”. A description all Southern sweet tea’s wear proudly.

Then it was on the road to keep on enjoying this beautiful Sunday. We took the long way home, the smooth tax paved roads, a joy to ride on.

Today was pure fun making it so glad I started riding and with great friends.

Thank you JoeJoe for the great pictures