Once they left, Cliff and I decided to go for a motorcycle ride. Not a long one, since it was four o'clock, and we don't ride in the dark. Just a nice little getaway spin.
Not two miles from home, we felt our Gold Wing miss just a little bit... maybe just a one-time fluke? Cliff thought there might be some water in the gas. We forged on; when it happened again, he said it seemed like a carburetor problem. We had planned to just ride 24 highway for awhile, then turn and come back; but Cliff instead went on to Truman Road (yes, Truman Road does extend all the way from Kansas City into the boonies, so far out you can almost hear the banjo music).
When we turned onto Truman Road (also known as FF), the bike started really acting up, and finally died; as luck would have it, we were almost to the turnoff to New Oak Winery, and Cliff managed to coast that far, make a turn, and get off on the side road leading up to the place.
His first thought was that he had perhaps failed to tighten up some wire or other when he replaced the starter relay the other day, but he could find no problem in that area.
He called the son-in-law, who was relieved, I'm sure, to find out we broke down only seven miles from home this time. He picked us up; he and Cliff took the trailer after the bike, and all was well.
Once the motorcycle was in the shop, my loving husband found out all we need is a new battery and we'll be on the road again.
I'll tell you, there's nothing like the excitement of riding a motorcycle; adventure is always right around the corner.