A Non-Refundable Deposit Is A Harsh Mistress

*** continued from previous post ***



On reaching the bathroom the pressure of having to pee increased ten-fold because - well because I was near a toilet. See my bladder, in anticipation, was about 6 steps ahead of my body. I tried to explain that I had 57 frickin' layers of clothing on, and that it would take me a few minutes to disrobe, but my bladder was having none of it. So I hurriedly, and I do mean hurriedly, stripped off as many layers as possible while crossing my legs and bouncing up and down in the stall.

I will not go into details, but you can ask any man and he will agree, that one of the greatest pleasures in life is taking a much needed pee. I know it's not the same for women. But for men? If you could bottle that feeling or put it in pill you could make millions.

Success! Having accomplished my mission, I struggled for the next 10 minutes trying to re-layer. I may have once again put the top of my Frogg-Toggs on my legs but I don't know. The euphoria of warmth, and dryness, and an empty bladder all blended into one magical blur and before I knew it I was back out in the great hall looking for your Mom.

I finally found her standing outside like the trooper she is, ready to get back on the bike. I was relieved to see that she hadn't been eaten.

"Where," I asked her, "did all those frickin' people come from?"

"Well, I overheard some of the women talking. Evidently there was a tour bus, or maybe three, that dropped them off here and they were waiting for another one to pick them up."

I wondered, was this a habit of the Canadian Tourism Industry to randomly abandon the elderly at Tourist Centers? You couldn't blame them. Old people can be a real pain in the keester with all the "I'm tired" and "I'm hungry" and "Dear God George isn't breathing!" It just never stops.

"Come on," Mom said, "time to hit the trail."

Against all common sense we saddled up and hit the wet, cold, misty road. Again. We were now so far behind schedule that it wasn't even funny. But the lodge beckoned. A non-refundable deposit is a harsh mistress.


*** the journey continues ***

It Looked Easy Enough On Paper

*** continued from previous post ***


Doing as I am told I get the gear out of the saddlebags and begin to put on the Frogg-Toggs.

These are great. Best investment in rain gear we've ever made. Light weight, breathable, and completely dry. It is a simple two-piece suit, with an extra long coat that fits over the high-rise pants so nothing gets where it shouldn't. The jacket even has a built in hoodie to go under your helmet should you so desire. They are fantastic. Except for one small, tiny little problem: I'm soaked to the bone already. I believe that may defeat their purpose. Like counting the calories in a Triple Burger with Cheese and an Insanely Large Fries after you've scarfed it in your car ducked behind, and slightly below, the steering wheel so no one will see what a horker your are.

When your Mom gets back from the bathroom I have managed to put on my rain gear.

Now, usually, this wouldn't be a huge accomplishment. In my defense it was the first time I had actually put on the Frogg-Toggs. And it had been raining. And I was cold. And we were in a foreign land, with foreign customs, and everything was all "kilometer this", and "liter that", and "no it's not play money just because it's a different color and no that's not Bob Dylan's head it's the Queen for Christ's sake so stop giggling and fork it over." So when I tell you that I struggled for a bit, and through sheer determination and perseverance, managed to put the jacket on my legs, over my boots, and had a hoodie hanging from my crotch, (I thought it was just to make it easier to pee with the chaps), you'll understand and not think less of me as a rider.

To my credit I discovered my blunder rather quickly. It may have been the howls of laughter coming from the cars passing me on the road. It may have been that when I tried to put the pants on my upper torso, I looked like a giant "V" and lunged hither-and-yon for a few minutes until I hit a light pole and realized something was amiss. But what it came down to was I just didn't feel comfortable with no hole for my head or slot to peek out through and the whole hoodie-in-the-crotch thing, the more I thought, was a dead giveaway. Typical 'Merican technology. You'd think something as complicated as this would have come with instructions.

It took your Mom like 2 seconds to get the things on. She is such a show off.

*** the journey continues tomorrow ***