This is another one of those “bits and pieces” posts. We’ve had no huge projects or adventures, but we’ve had a few little ones.
I’d hoped to stretch my motorcycle’s front tire until winter so I could replace it while getting a bunch of other work done. But it started wearing far more quickly over the past couple of weeks, and the rear of the tread blocks had worn down to the surface that’s supposed to be between them, so I had to get a new one. It was the same deal as the last two times I got new back tires, and Cycle Gear in Rogers took care of me. It would be more convenient to find somewhere closer than an hour away to get tires, but at least that’s a solid option.
Melissa’s KLR is now fully registered for the street. Another weird Arkansas rule is that you have 60 days to register a motorcycle after you buy it, and you can ride around without a license plate until then as long as you have all the dealer’s paperwork with you to prove you own it. We’re approaching the end of that time, so we took care of it to keep the authorities happy. I also got to see the strange, convoluted, multi-step process of registering a vehicle in Arkansas. It’s good to know for future reference.
As we’ve had time, we’ve been going for short rides, with each of us on our own bikes. Melissa is working on transferring all she learned in the course to her bigger, heavier KLR. I have her take the lead and set her own comfortable pace while I follow to keep any traffic that may come up behind us off her back wheel. Our helmet intercoms have been extremely handy. I’ve been able to talk her through a few challenges she’s had as we rode. She even had me pass her at one point to go flush out a dog that sometimes likes to chase people (it wasn’t there). Everything is falling into place for her. I’m not really teaching her anything at this point because all she really needs is practice with what she already knows.
Melissa’s younger son just had his birthday, and we treated him to a pontoon boat rental on Beaver Lake near Rogers. I remember looking through my dad’s Bass Pro Shops catalogs as a kid, seeing the pontoon boats, and thinking we should get one. That was never going to happen (he’s more into fishing boats than party boats), but all these years later, I finally got to experience one anyway. I even ended up driving it around the lake much of the day. I hadn’t driven a power boat since the last time my grandfather had me take him into town from his island cottage to get his morning newspaper, also when I was a kid. But what he taught me somehow came back to me. I didn’t crash and even managed to avoid a couple of crashes with idiots who were much worse drivers than me.
It was fun, but I think I’ll stick to my kayak close to shore. I agree that boats are giant holes in the water that you throw money into, so anything bigger just wouldn’t be worth it to me. I’m too much of a land-lubber. But the one-time rental of the boat I drooled over as a kid was a fun experience.
You know about the horde of four kittens that are supposed to be rodent control at the house but usually beg for food at the van instead. This is not one of them. Melissa kind of fell in love with this little orange guy when we picked up the horde to bring home. He’s about a month younger than them, and we brought him home last weekend. Rather than a failed attempt at pest control, the orange kitty is intended to be a pet. Since I already have Lister, I’m letting Melissa take the lead on this one. But I do approve of the name she chose for him: Harley. He’s got the orange to match a Harley-Davidson.
He is a kitten of extremes. When he’s awake, he’s usually running around, playing, and attacking everything and everyone. When he sleeps, he sleeps hard and loves snuggling up with both of us. Or, in this case, on the dashboard.
I’m amazed at how well Lister has adapted to him being in the van, sharing his living space, which the horde outside does not. They play together (even though Lister grumbles about it like an old man), and they’ve even started snuggling and sleeping together. Lister usually had other cats around before we hit the road together, so he’s no stranger to not being an only cat. Our time on the road together has been the only exception to that. He may act like a grumpy old man, but I think Lister kind of likes having another kitty around again.
Smokey Da Van 