Even Hondas break down

Yesterday Cliff and I hit the road with no destination in mind. Except that he wanted to have a second key made for our Gold Wing; so we pulled in a motorcycle shop about 45 minutes from here. They didn't have any blanks to make our key, but a very helpful man gave us a locksmith's card, a guy from Independence. Very close to our home.

Alas, when we went out to leave and Cliff tried to start our motorcycle, it didn't start. The helpful man came out with some sort of electrical thingie that diagnoses batteries. Our battery, he declared, was "a rock". No juice at all. He put it on a charger for us, though, to see if it would charge.

It didn't charge.

They didn't have a battery in stock to fit our particular Honda; the man called several places in town, but there were none to be found.

I remembered that the grandson, Arick, usually gets off early on Fridays. Cliff called him and told him to hook up the trailer on our car and come to our rescue.

Which he did.

I told Arick it was only payback for the time Cliff had to take the tractor down to the river bottom and pull his truck out of the mud.

Today we went to the city, bought a new battery, and once again hit the road.

We ate our lunch at the Confederate Memorial State Historic site. You see here a typical picnic lunch when we're biking, complete with Cliff's mid-day pills. Sardines, crackers, and fruit.



Then we stopped by McDonald's for ice cream.

The romance is back, and life is good.