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The First Day of Spring in Dublin
(Georgia that is) |
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Saturday we loaded up for the first long ride of the year. We were headed to Dublin, Ga. for the St Patrick Day�s ride with our riding neighbors, Rod and Cheryl, and another riding buddy, Emmi. We gassed up the truck and picked up Emmi, and by noon we were headed out. The irony of driving four hours to ride fifty miles, and then drive four more hours home had not quite sunk in yet. The women could only think of the craft booths and the funnel cakes that are all part of the Dublin celebration of St Patty�s, and I was still reveling in the glow of my new red truck. Who cares if it takes a zillion dollars to fill it up? It�s red, it�s new, and it has a V-8, and, oh yeah, it�s big. And of course gas will get back down to 30 cents a gallon again, right? |
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Four hours later we were slowly driving past the blocked off Main Street of Dublin. The �Erin Go Bragh� signs were hanging everywhere and there were leprechauns on every corner (Dublin really gets the mileage out of their name). A quick check-in at our motel and we were walking amongst the crowd humming �Oh Danny Boy� as we headed for the craft booths. |
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(You can click on the pictures to see a larger version). |
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(Cheryl, Susan, Emmi) |
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It turned out to be my lucky day as the craft fair was just closing and most of the booths were empty. There were still plenty of blow-up plastic shamrocks and leprechaun gourds, and as nice as they were, the real treasures were all gone. This did not stop Susan from seriously thinking about buying a water color painting of downtown Dublin. Thank goodness the Irish green mat was the wrong shade of green. After walking Main Street for a while we finally decided we had enough of the �wearing of the green� and headed off to find some supper.
After a fine meal at Ruby Tuesday we continued to sit at the table and share remembrances and re-tell old stories over a few too many glasses of wine and beer. We even ventured into cases of law and argued the Scot Peterson and Robert Blake trials with almost the same passion as the opposing attorneys. It�s at this time I must say, as another biker had once said before, �that my tales were all true of course, and theirs were fine examples of hyperbole.� But of course that goes without saying. We eventually called it a night and headed to our rooms. |
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8:00 AM found us milling around with hundreds of other riders as we waited for the 9:00 start. Susan and I, as well as Rod and Cheryl were riding tandems, and Emmi was on her single. Now, some people might think us tandem riders would have an advantage over a single rider, but with Emmi this is not the case. She has run marathons, that�s marathon with a plural, numerous things she calls little races, and she even ran a trail race in Durango, Colorado. We were hoping we could keep up with her. Plus, her bike is so light weight you can hardly see it unless the sun is shining on it just right. Our bike, on the other hand, is True Temper ChroMoly steel and will safely transport a tank. Of course we are known as a jumbo team. So that�s the group that started out at 9:00 that morning. |
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(Emmi and Susan) |
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NEXT PAGE |
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BACK |
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(Like lemmings queuing up for the final drop) |
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