It has been raining in Ocala NF for the last few... weeks? My toes are green but the riding is lovely.
Today the Queen of Slow's entourage consisted of:
-Darrell on Stinky (KTM 250 2 stroke ex- Clint Lancaster's); wearing jeans and a ktm jersey;
-Darrell's son Clint (doing very well after just one month of riding) on "Grumpy" (Mundy's old KTM 250 CF with a makeover by John Bekanich). If you ask why the bike is named "Grumpy" you must be a newbie to the club.
-Mark Clay on his new KTM 150- King of Bling as far as the bike goes, but his personal attire today- although as usual impeccable- was a bit more "Ralph Lauren style" in very appropriate fall tones rather than the usual "Chippendal-ish" with cutoffs and mesh pants etc. (*)
- and myself on "Pumpkin" my beloved KTM 250 XCFW who in her youth won the FL enduro championship in her class. I was wearing my usual Wrangler cargo pants (alas, a bit tighter than usual- blame the COvid!) and Walmart long sleeve shirt. Obviously I do not want to be mistaken for a serious rider.
So off we go on the trails with Darrell leading the charge and trying his best to lose his flock in the first mile. (Note to Darrell: no, it is not a hare scramble, it is a Sunday after-church ride for your geriatric friends, ok?). With the excuse of looking after Clint I was the last of the group.
And so it happened that as I am happily making my way on the trails, I almost collide with two riders coming out of the bush. As I stop to say hi, one of them points his finger to me and blurts: hey, that's MY bike!
Now, I take these claims rather personally because since 2011 Pumpkin and I have been one- through heartaches, and losses and tough moments she has always brought me home after a ride with a smile on my face (and sometimes white knuckles as well). In short: there is a bond here. She is mine and I am hers. Since I do not joke about these things I was ready to blurt out: over my dead body it is YOUR bike!
but the guy removed his helmet and I realized that it was Brett Long. Brett is the first owner of the Pumpkin (and enduro champion) and he recognized her in the midst of the woods. Talk about psychic signals!
So we started a pleasant conversation about this and that as my group was getting further and further away from me. (Darrell is a Darwinian group leader in that he never looks back to check on his flock- he believes in survival of the fittest).
As the other rider removed his helmet I realized it was Kim, another Salt Springer who is a retired motorcycle mechanic and top restorer of vintage dirt bikes. In his home in Salt Springs he keeps at least one bike in each room and two in his living room (I do not see anything wrong with it except for the oil leaks on the carpet).
Anyway, Kim had done the first rebuild on my Pumpkin when Brett still had her, so it was a bit like meeting one's gynecologist in the middle of the woods ... we talked a lot about the current state of Pumpkin's bowels .... but eventually Darrell came back to check on me (or so I hope) and we happily reconnected and went on a very lovely ride.
It was one of those rare days when the sand is wet, the trails flat, the temperature mild.. the birds were singing, the pistons were pistoning... you get the idea.... one of those days when I feel invincible taking the turns with my foot sticking out like in the movies..... hopping on whoops like a bunny in heat.....until..... Brett F...ING ZOOMS by me and asks if I am feeling ok?
I hate those moments.
Anyway, fun was had by all. No body parts were left behind on the trails. No bikes were harmed in the making of this movie. It was a GOOD day.
All is well. Until next time I remain....
your Slower than Ever Queen of Slow
(*) not that I am opposed to men looking "Chippendal-ish".