And then, the weather changed

Friday evening, Pat asked where we wanted to ride, and Cliff quickly answered, "The river run!"  
On the river run, we cross into Illinois, go through the edge of Alton, and ride alongside the Mississippi River.  Cliff likes looking at the barges and boats.  
Saturday morning, I was the first one up, as usual.  The coffee pot was waiting to be turned on, which I did.  Then I turned on the news.  
Rain.  It was raining in St. Louis where I was, but the front was located directly over the area where we planned to ride.  The talking heads said it would move out by noon.  
We hit the road around 11 o'clock, and eventually the sun came out.  

This picture, taken after noon, shows you that it wasn't exactly a heat wave.  Right after I took this, Charlene and Pat realized they had accidentally switched motorcycle jackets:  She was wearing his, he was wearing hers.  We had a good laugh about that.   

It was well after noon before we saw other bikers in any numbers at all; Cliff and I talked about what sissies they were, waiting until the sun was out to ride.  Talk like that always makes us feel better about ourselves when we're freezing.  

It was cooler along the Mississippi River than elsewhere.  But once the sun came out, it was beautiful.  

Here we are getting ready to cross the bridge toward home.  

We went through historic St. Charles on the way.  Some parts of St. Charles remind me just a little of New Orleans.  

I like riding there.  So yes, it rained Saturday morning; but it did not ruin our day, since we are not sissies.  Was I cold?  Surely you don't think I'd admit it if I was, do you?  
Someone remarked in comments about the fact that I did not post over the weekend.  There is a reason for that:  We have free room and board in St. Louis, but it does not include free wi-fi.  I can access the Internet on their computer, but for some reason I can't get my laptop onto their network.  Hence, no blogging while I'm there.  Hey, it's free room and board.  I'm not complaining.
In all honesty, I was not cold on our Saturday ride, but Sunday was a few degrees cooler, and I put more clothes on.  It was in the 40's, I believe, when we hit the road at 11 A.M.  Charlene and Pat rode halfway home with us and we ate together in Columbia at Outback, Cliff and I sharing a meal.  From there on, having seen all the lovely scenery we cared to, we did something we seldom do on the motorcycle:  We got on I-70 and boogied home, arriving at six o'clock.  
I pray a lot when we're riding the motorcycle on the freeway.  Since I don't drive, I normally don't pay attention to how people behave on the Interstates.  Yesterday I couldn't help but watch, thanks to the chosen words Cliff had for the idiots as he jockeyed for position, trying to leave a safe stopping distance between us and the vehicles ahead.  
He was right.  There are idiots out there.  It's one thing to watch them when you're safely riding in a car with your seat belt buckled, but when you realize you are a human projectile waiting to be launched... a potential organ donor, one might say... you can really learn to dislike idiots.