I so wish I had a garage. Not sure how I'm going to make it through my first Chicago winter as a pipe smoker! Guess I'll be paying my local B&M lounges visits more often.
Man I feel for you. Between the wind and the humidity off the lake I can't imagine what that must be like.
I've only been through the 'windy' city once and I still have nightmares. My wife and I were riding from Windsor, Ontario back to our home in Tumbler Ridge, BC on our bike. We got caught in pouring rain at nightfall and we got lost during rush hour. I think we went through the same toll booth twice but my brain is still trying to suppress the memory. All I know is that my wife was trying to give me navigational input from a soggy map she had crumpled up in her lap. Between her screeching in my ear and the traffic it was an experience. I told her over the intercom to stop whining. She had the best seat sitting on the handlebars with a flashlight and besides she got less rain due to her aerodynamic shape and that I was the one doing all the work. She said something about, "you freaking asshole! I'm flying home tomorrow." When we finally got to a motel I tried to soothe her ruffled feathers by telling her she looked alluring with helmet hair and soaking wet chaps." I think the bottle of wine I managed to hand her through the locked motel room door that I had purchased for her at a nearby liquor store helped. I spent the next two hours sitting outside huddled beside the motel room door listening to her thrashing around and cursing about some idiot." I'm sure she was referring to someone who passed us on the freeway. I don't know why I had to sleep on the pull out bed that night, but there you go. Wives are so strange.
Man I feel for you. Between the wind and the humidity off the lake I can't imagine what that must be like.
I've only been through the 'windy' city once and I still have nightmares. My wife and I were riding from Windsor, Ontario back to our home in Tumbler Ridge, BC on our bike. We got caught in pouring rain at nightfall and we got lost during rush hour. I think we went through the same toll booth twice but my brain is still trying to suppress the memory. All I know is that my wife was trying to give me navigational input from a soggy map she had crumpled up in her lap. Between her screeching in my ear and the traffic it was an experience. I told her over the intercom to stop whining. She had the best seat sitting on the handlebars with a flashlight and besides she got less rain due to her aerodynamic shape and that I was the one doing all the work. She said something about, "you freaking asshole! I'm flying home tomorrow." When we finally got to a motel I tried to soothe her ruffled feathers by telling her she looked alluring with helmet hair and soaking wet chaps." I think the bottle of wine I managed to hand her through the locked motel room door that I had purchased for her at a nearby liquor store helped. I spent the next two hours sitting outside huddled beside the motel room door listening to her thrashing around and cursing about some idiot." I'm sure she was referring to someone who passed us on the freeway. I don't know why I had to sleep on the pull out bed that night, but there you go. Wives are so strange.
