Empty Roads, Wandering About...and Root Beer!

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Since I have retired from work, I have had the opportunity to go out riding on weekdays when I would previously have been hard at work in the office (possibly daydreaming of being out riding). 

These weekdays are not only a new time to ride for me, but they have an unexpected advantage: There is hardly anybody on the roads. 

All right!

As long as I avoid commuting hours and school start and end times, there is almost no one on the road once you get out of the city.  Maybe a few more heavy trucks, but certainly fewer cars. 

Since I have only about thirteen miles to escape into the mountains of the Blue Ridge Escarpment from home in the metropolis of Easley, it has been great. 

There are certain advantages of being unemployed -- err, retired -- after all. 

I thought that this low traffic situation was in part due to the cold winter weather, but I went out today when the temperature was in the 60s, and found the traffic to be light just the same.  (We're a bunch of pansies here in the south when it comes to cold weather.  Anything under around 50 degrees is downright "frigid" according to most natives.  So, they stay home to avoid the chance of dying of a chill outside.) 


I have also noticed that I am taking more rides on the scooter where I am simply wandering around looking for roads I have not ridden and scenery I have not seen.

I took notice of this as I was looking at some of the tracks saved by the GPS keeps as I ride. A few of them are downright piles of spaghetti.  Look these over:

Twisted, yes?  Actually, to be perfectly honest, some of the time I was lost, if you define that as not knowing either where you are or where you are going.  I fit that description on a lot of these. 

Thank goodness for the GPS to get me back home! 


[OK, but what about the root beer, Bucky?]  

Oh.  I almost forgot.  Let me explain.  I have been a drinker of root beer for some years now.  It is the only soda pop worth imbibing.  If it isn't root beer, it doesn't merit a second glance, in my view.  I turn down anything else offered.  Politely, though, you can be certain. 

Now that I have a little more time to take rides on the motorcycle, I find that I can quaff a bottle of root beer afterward as I relax in my easy chair, and gain the ultimate in satisfaction -- recollection of an enjoyable time out on the roads, and the sweet, fragrant taste of my favorite drink.

Mmmm, mmmm, good.

Come ride with me some time, and I'll offer you a fine bottle of my favorite brew.  

Root beer, of course!

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