Da Plane....Da Plane.....

It's the weekend after the AFLAK Tri (that's what the cool kids call it) in South Lake Tahoe.  I need a bike, I could try to ride Sarah's little pink one but it's a little flashy for me.  Being a thrifty shopper I start looking on Craig's list.  There's a guy with a few bikes for sale, he's in Chico, that's close.  I call and speak with a normal sounding guy named Phil.  I ask him about the bikes tell him why I want it and he says come take a look.  Now, I'm not stupid....I called Irma.   We decided to head to Chico to look at a few bikes.  About half way there Irma looks at me with that very serious "Irma look" and says, " we're not going to a bike shop are we?"  LOL  NO....bike shops are for wimps!  We're going to meet Phil who has been working on bikes for 50 years!!  duh.  

My phone is very important to me, I use it for GPS, EMAIL, TXT, WTHR, PIX, NET and once in a while a phone call.  So the GPS is pretty easy to use we're close so I pull over and call Phil to let him know we're in the area.  I just happened to pull over in front of an area that is heavily wooded with a small drive leading back to...more trees.  Phil says he's waiting, Irma locks her door and I pull away from the freaky wooded path to more woods.  Irma gives me a courtesy laugh and says, "I'm NOT going down that path into the woods."   The blue dot meets the red dot on my GPS which means you've arrived.  We had, indeed arrived....at another freaky path into the woods but it was....smaller and more woodsieish.  At the end of the woodsie freakishness you could see a pile-o-bikes, we must be here!  Irma gives me the Irminator look but I resist...I need a bike!    We forge on in the general direction of the pile-o-bikes and poof on the left is an outdoor living room area thingy - TV and all.  An old van, that may have served as the master bedroom and a HUGE shed.  I squeezed the truck into what may have served as the fitness area/parking space.   We'd come too far, we would look chicken if we left now!  I hopped out trying to be cool and not look weak or scared.  Phil emerged from the living area, he was 6'5" and as big around as my arm.  My first thought was something that Irma had recently said to me, "You only have to be able to run faster than your friend."   I shook his hand, we looked at the pile-o-bikes.  Then in the midst of explaining why the rusty bike was better than the new bike a plane flew over.  I had visions of Phil screaming,"INCOMING!!  HIT THE DIRT!"  Pulling out one of those machine guns with the rows and rows of bullets and taking aim at whatever moved.  I had sized up his little dog and was prepared to grab the ugly little thing so Irma and I could use it as a negotiations tool if need be.  The plane passed, Phil's attention came back and I realized I had not brought any money.  I was able to negotiate a 500 point turn out of the fitness area/parking space and we were back on the tiny little trail out of the place where Deliverance was filmed.  I just wanted a bike - so we went to the ATM and once again made the drive down Phil's path.  We ignored the creepy banjo music, grabbed the bike and bailed as fast as that truck would go. 

I have a bike!  Oh, jeez, that's one less excuse....  Have you seen road bike tires?  Man, they're puny....and the seat....where's the rest of the seat?  This might just leave a mark.....