Rebel Sightings: My New Chain

Jeez ooooh pete.

You would think that I died or something, since it has been so long since I posted.

So a few weeks ago, I took my new chain to the Advanced Rider Training class in Canby, Oregon. (I brought my motorcycle along too. For kicks.)

I packed a lunch.

I put the liner back into my jacket and wondered if I would have a chance to take it out when I got too hot.

I set my GPS and left early in case I ran into traffic.

Half way to Salem I was reminded once again that my gloves are not, despite what the salesman told me, cold weather gloves, and was very grateful that I had put the liner in my jacket.

So I stopped in Salem at a Walmart Supercenter to warm my hands. As I wandered around I noticed that it only seemed to have food and was setup exactly like the Winco in Corvallis.

Then it hit me.

This is not Walmart. This is Winco.

Duh.

I am so smart.

So I got on my way and found my way quite easily to the go cart track where we would be practicing.

I was the first student to arrive:

Eventually, 8 other students wandered in and class started. It was the classroom in the morning and the range in the afternoon.

After lunch, the instructor looked at the track, rode it a few times and decided to try the afternoon class.

While he explained and the other instructor demonstrated the first exercise, it rained.

Since the track had a thin layer of rubber on it from the go carts, this was not good and class would have to be postponed.

On my way home, I almost stopped in Salem, and it turns out that I should have because I forgot that the freeway is concrete, and it poured. That meant that the spray did not disperse, but instead comes back up, so I had water coming at me from two directions.

But, eventually I got home, because here I am now.

Last weekend (okay, not last weekend but the one before, gee whiz, time flies) was the first entirely nice day after a flurry of cold. rainy weather. It was the kind of day that demanded that the motorcycle go somewhere.

As I prepped the Rebel, it occurred to me that a bowl of clam chowder at the beach sounded nice.

After filling with gas, I headed through Corvallis toward Newport.

I was glad that it wasn't too cold, because after my class (where I got soooo wet in Salem) I had taken the liner out of my jacket and was not really in the mood to once again get cold.

Traffic was light the whole way, so I was free to go just below the speed limit.

Which I did.

That's why I like cruisers. Where sport bikes seem to be in a hurry, cruisers enjoy the scenery.

Which was littered with dead animals.

Really. Lots of them. It must be a spring thing.

I turned right in Newport and headed North toward the Devils Punchbowl. Right at the same spot as the Devil's Punchbowl is Mo's West, and that's where I got my clam chowder.

See, here is my motorcycle at Mo's West: