What a wonderful weekend

Cliff's St. Louis sister and her husband spent the night Friday night and part of the day Saturday; it was good catching up with them.  Sunday morning Cliff and I awoke to a perfect day and decided we were past due for a nice, long motorcycle ride.  
We've taken day trips all over, so that there aren't many new roads to ride in any direction for a hundred miles.  We thought about going to Cliff's childhood town, Versailles, but we'll be going to a gathering there in a couple of weeks, so why go now?  
"What about that town with the big goose," I asked Cliff.  "That's a nice ride.  We could ride to Swan Lake."  

I should have looked up the information on the place.  Autumn is the best time to visit.  

Not that it matters, because we had a great ride.  We never tire of 24 highway going east, and 65 to Chillicothe is a fun ride too. 

We always stick to the back roads when possible.  It's a little sad to see buildings in the countryside and small towns deteriorating, but that's life.  Nothing stays the same; nothing lasts forever.

We found a great place to eat our picnic lunch at Pershing State Park.

  This is the park where I used to go to church camp as a kid.  Redbuds are in full bloom everywhere.  

It's amazing how good a tuna salad sandwich tastes when you're really hungry.  

  There wasn't a soul around when we started eating.  We were sitting there drinking our after-dinner coffee when two black vans and a black car cruised through the parking lot, left, and soon returned.  A whole clan of Mennonites got out, and one gentleman came and asked if we minded them eating in the shelter with us.  We told him we were ready to leave anyhow; he told us they had plenty of hamburgers if we wanted some, and strawberries for dessert.  We declined.  
I am assuming they were Mennonites rather than Amish, because they were driving vehicles.  They spoke with a strong Iowa/Nebraska accent, but I didn't think to look at their license plates to see if my accent-detection was working properly.  

Tribute to the mothers of the armed forces, circa 1944

We drove past the giant goose in Sumner that turns as the wind changes directions.  

The other time we went to Swan Lake there were eagles flying overhead, hundreds of geese, and lots of people pulled over on the side of the road, watching it all.  Yesterday the only creature we saw moving was a red-tailed hawk looking for lunch.  Big deal, huh?  

Oh yeah, and we finally saw some little ducks.  Don't visit Swan Lake in March. 

sign in the rest room at Baltimore Bend Winery

But it was a fully enjoyable ride.  On the way home, we stopped at Baltimore Bend winery to use the rest room.  There are always a lot of motorcycles in their parking lot there, and yesterday was no exception.  At our ages, it isn't always easy to climb aboard the Gold Wing.  Neither of us is anywhere near agile and we both have aches and pains, so we don't get on the bike in the conventional manner:  that would be Cliff first, then me.  Nope.  I get on first, then he attempts to throw a leg over the saddle without kicking me.  As we were going through this yesterday, I said to Cliff, "I wonder how much longer we're going to be able to climb on this thing," and a biker walking by said, "For the rest of your lives."