TEASE DAY

Today was way different. It wasn’t a Bobby Day. You know what a Bobby Day is: hot, wet, and miserable. The kind of day where you’re not sure whether you’re riding through Florida or being slowly boiled in a bag.

But today? Today was different. When we took off, it was in the 70s and pleasant. I know that sounds suspicious, but it really happened. The sky was overcast, the humidity was manageable, and for once you could ride without feeling like somebody had thrown a wet blanket over your head.

I call days like this at the end of summer “Tease Days.”

The Road Gods can be cruel. Very cruel. They’ll give you a morning like today—cooler temperatures, almost dry air, a pleasant breeze—and you start getting ideas. You begin thinking, Maybe summer is finally over. You start believing that Fall, which is only two days away, might actually mean something in Florida.

You poor sap.

The Road Gods are up there somewhere, sitting around with their coffee, watching us. They’re saying, “Hey, watch this.” Then you enter Shalimar. And just like that, the Gates of Hell open. The humidity comes back. The heat climbs aboard. You’re right back in the same hot, wet misery you’ve been riding through all summer. That’s Florida Fall for you. It doesn’t arrive.

It sneaks up behind you, gives you a cool breeze for five minutes, and then kicks you in the backside. People ask me, “Why do you do this to yourself?” My answer is simple:

“I love riding more than I hate Bobby Days.”

Now, let’s get to the important back-office stuff. 8 Sandies. 160 miles. That 160 miles ought to tell you something about today's weather. When the weather is miserable, everybody starts looking for the shortest route home. When the weather is pleasant, suddenly nobody knows where home is. Today was one of those days. The weather was so nice it made you want to keep going.

We had breakfast at Milly’s Café in DeFuniak. It’s a pleasant little place, just right for coffee, breakfast, and sitting around visiting with people who apparently have nowhere else they need to be. Which, when you’re riding motorcycles, is pretty much the definition of breakfast.

I also understand that last week’s missive got my good friend Ken C thrown under the bus. I really didn’t mean to do that. Well...Maybe a little. But in my defense, I did paraphrase Ken’s comment a bit, okay quite a bit. And if you’re going to say something funny around a somebody who likes to embellish, you really ought to know better.

It was great seeing Randy and Brigitte L out riding with us today. I noticed Randy picked the best Sunday we’ve had in months to come along. Some folks have good timing. Some folks have Randy timing.

Bobby was out today too. He said the Indian group on Saturday took almost the exact same route to DeFuniak that we did—almost mile for mile. Great minds think alike, I suppose. The difference was, we went almost another 100 miles after breakfast. That’s what pleasant weather will do to you. It gives you confidence. Dangerous thing, confidence.

Then there was Misty on her Ryker. For those who aren’t familiar with a Ryker, it’s the sporty version of a Spyder. It’s got a sportier look and doesn’t have all the Tupperware hanging off it that you find on the big touring machines. None of that seems to bother Misty. She just rides. Anywhere we go, Misty is right there. You can’t tell her, “That’s too far,” or “That road looks rough,” because she’ll apparently just go find out for herself.

Then there was JoeJoe, who was in full weatherman mode. Location of showers? Away from us. Temperature? Very pleasant for riding. Chance of some world-ending storm appearing directly over our heads? Apparently low. It was actually nice hearing JoeJoe report that there weren’t any biblical storms waiting for us around the next bend. For once, the weather report didn’t sound like the opening scene of a disaster movie.

So all in all, it was a pretty good riding day. The Road Gods teased us. They gave us cool temperatures, tolerable humidity, dry roads, and enough sunshine to make us forget what August and September had done to us. And we fell for it. Because that’s what rider’s do. Give us one decent day and we’ll forgive you for a hundred miserable ones.

That’s what makes riding so damn interesting great riding. Oh and great riding friends helps a lot.