Yes, it is I, sitting here in Mittster’s stead. The idiot went back to Sedona and picked me up just like I knew he would. A few tears and a sad face were too much for him…like skeleton people cry – what a softy. I may have been born at night, but it wasn’t last night. Oh, wait a minute…I actually wasn’t born, I was made by death. Oh, well, you get the point.
Besides, Mittster needs to ride his Harley daily to get in shape for his big ride in September. He is riding to Colorado and Utah over the Labor Day holiday. I have to admit that he will need to be in shape, the ride can be hazardous and tricky because the weather can change in a heartbeat and the roads course through some treacherous landscapes. I wouldn’t know – I don’t have a heartbeat and he won’t let me ride anymore.
Mittster is going with his son, Jay, and best friend (only friend), Hoppy, while I stay here and write his stupid blogs. They are going to ride the Rocky Mountains and then drop down into Brice Canyon and Monument Valley. It should be an exciting and beautiful ride with scenery to die for…not literally of course.
Well, I have news for the Mittster – I found a spare motorcycle in Jay’s garage. It’s a vintage 1975 Honda Goldwing and with a little help from my friends in Sedona (don’t ask), I will be riding with the boys into the sunrise. I plan to stay about a mile behind until we reach the Navaho Nation…by then it will be too late for him to say no. You have to admit it’s not a bad plan for a person with no brains.