My Ding-A-Ling

March 9, 2014

My Ding-A-Ling

For the title, I will need to express an apology to Mr. Chuck Berry, but the name of his song turned out to be so appropriate in a funny sort of way. This will become evident later in the story .... but first ....

I've been wanting to get Eugene the Jeep out for a longer ride to see how well he would do.....

For those old enough to remember, this character, Eugene the Jeep appeared in some of the very early Popeye cartoons and was a do anything, anywhere, anyhow sort of creature. Nothing was too much for The Jeep. Supposedly, this is the character that the Jeep vehicle was named after, and it fits my new bike superbly as well. It does anything you ask it, and asks for more. So, today, I aired up the tires to 65 pounds because I was planning to stay on pavement for a 50 mile ride, and was not planning on getting off the pavement. Usually, if I'm on mostly gravel, I've found that 55 pounds works well with these tires. I may put on a bit wider tire so I can reduce the pressure a bit more. Today however, it was all pavement, so 65 it is ...... Seven miles after I left the house ..... hmmmm..... I wonder where that road goes, I've never been out there......

And so, we start a new adventure of gravel again.

I have to confess, I really like travelling gravel roads because traffic is very, very light to almost non-existent, and when a vehicle does pass you, they seem to do so very slowly and carefully, unlike the way they pass on pavement.

The gravel road eventually gave way to hard packed dirt, although with the recent rain and snow, some parts of it were decidedly more of a soft serve. Still, it was a great diversion, and turned out to be a wonderful road to travel. I did, however, regret airing the tires up so high before I left, and almost thought about dropping the pressure a bit, but I knew I'd be rejoining the pavement before long.

I love old farmsteads with windmills.

And then there was this bridge ..... sort of .... the sign said 3 tons, I think they were being optimistic. All wood, and gettin' pretty long in the tooth as well. Still, even though I've gained a few this winter, I was not approaching even close the the requisite 3 tons, so I went on across, and lived to tell the story.

This was the creek it passed over.

A little beyond the bridge was this "Mexican Fighting Cow"....  "Hey Gringo ....you better not be calling me Ha' ....Toro .... Or I'll show you how sharp we senoritas keep these horns" ....

Hard to do a ride without finding a pretty horse picture somewhere.

What about the title ....what about the title ........ Well, okay, a picture of "My Ding-A-Ling ..... but first the story to go with it. Shortly after the horse picture, I was just cruising along minding my own business when all of a sudden, out from some trees next to a farmhouse along the road this crazy dog tears out across the highway growling like he's going to start by taking off my leg first, and then see what else he wanted. I hollered at him .....never fazed him....he just kept coming..... just as he was reaching for my ankle (which was rotating furiously by this time) I rang my bell twice  ... ding-ding ... and it's LOUD ..... He skidded to a stop like I'd shot at him, and took off running for home with his tail between his legs. Either he had never heard anything like that before, or he was one of Pavlov's left overs, which, I don't know. I was surprised it worked that well. Probably just on that particular dog. The expression on his face was priceless. And so here is My Ding-A-Ling.... From there on, an uneventful ride back into and through town. Ran across Wayne just leaving his house for a short ride, but he didn't want to go as far as I was going because he was expecting some company. We chatted for a bit and then I went on through town, and being Sunday, right up Main Street.

Such a cool car required an even cooler frame ....

It was pretty highly modified, but I believe it to be either a Buick or Pontiac, around a 1941 model.

Considering that I worked for Sinclair when it was still Harry Sinclair's company, these old signs took on a special meaning for me.

Looking back up Main Street, on a Sunday afternoon, there is not much traffic to contend with.

One of the building murals on Main.

And so, another twelve miles from here, and I was home again. On the way back, I caught up with a runner wayyyy out of town, and it turned out to be an old friend and bicycle racer Gina Kraft. She has taken up distance running now, and is very fast. Figures, she was very fast on her bike and won many races. The bike performed flawlessly, and my ding-a ling worked better than I had ever thought. Saw hawks, doves, and Mexican fighting cows. What a day.