12. Start of a Three Day Weekend
I walk out into the garage, slap the push button on the wall to open the overhead door. After the door is up I hear a mechanical sort of rustling from the north wall where I store my babies (aka my bikes). I look out on the driveway, and it's obvious why the kids are excited. Sunny, little wind, and 75 degrees. "Which one of us will be the lucky one today?" I imagine them wondering as I walk in their direction. Walter, the TT rig, knows that it's Friday, and my ride is likely to be a shorter, hard one, just exactly what he does best. Maude, the road beauty, says that it's a perfect day for a leisurely ride up to the lake, grab a beer, and then head back before dinner. The Dude, my fixie, is confident that it's his turn, he hasn't been out much lately, and it's perfect weather for him. I walk up to the threesome, pause a second, shake my head sadly, and continue on to check the oil in the mower. Sorry, gang, but this is a three day weekend, and ea...