Partly Cloudy ... With A Slight Chance Of Showers

Well, I have told you a little about my "children" so now I guess I will tell you about one of my many hobbies. I say "many" because I am kind of a "jack of all trades, but a master of none".

One of the things I like to do in my free time is ride motorcycles, especially on the Blue Ridge Parkway. There is nothing better than a leisurely stroll on a warm, sunny afternoon. Having said that, there is also nothing worse than a leisurely stroll in a blinding downpour, complete with thunder and lightning.

A couple of weeks ago the wonderful weatherman stated on Friday evening that Saturday and Sunday were going to be fabulous ... warm and sunny and in the upper 70's (perfect riding weather), and only a slight chance of showers. After hearing that, my girlfriend and I decided we would hop on our bikes and take a weekend trip to Grandfather Mountain. When we left Saturday morning it was a little foggy, but it was burning off quickly, and had promise of being a wonderful day. The first 60 miles were awesome, just as the weatherman predicted, but then things started looking a little ominous. Not to worry, I thought. Just a few clouds ... yeah right. About 100 miles out, the bottom fell out and it poured for the rest of the trip. Needless to say,70's and sun is great, but 50's and pouring rain is not so great, especially when silly me didn't bother to pack my rain gear (after all, there was only a slight chance of showers).

We finally made it to the Grandfather Mountain welcome center, where we were met by the friendliest man. He invited us to stay for a while, along with several other fellow swamprats riders. He assured us that the storm would end before too much longer. We only had about five more miles to reach our destination, so after a brief period of warming up, the rain had let up (somewhat) so we decided to continue on our journey. Sure enough, the kind fellow was correct. By the time we reached our final destination the sun had come out.

Okay, Sunday morning we woke up to dense fog, so we decided to hang out for a little while and wait on the fog to lift. It finally lifted so we headed back to the Mountain to enjoy the day. I thought to myself, "At least Sunday was going to be nice." Wrong again. It was great weather for about half the day but then dark clouds appeared off in the distance. We decided to go ahead and leave in order to "stay ahead" of it. Too late! By the time we made it down the Mountain and back to the parkway, it was raining, and unfortunately, the clouds backed up against the ridge line and it rained the entire way home ... 150 miles in terrible thunderstorms. It was the most miserable experience I have ever had on a motorcycle.

Overall, the trip was a great experience, I guess. I definitely learned a couple of good lessons:

1. Never go on a trip without rain gear.
2. Never Ever trust a weatherman!

I loved Grandfather Mountain! I just wish I could have stayed longer. I hope to go back sometime soon ... just not when the weatherman is calling for a slight chance of showers.

Pictures From The Trip

After making you read that whole long drawn-out affair, I thought I would at least provide a few pictures to enjoy, if you care to.










This is my baby.











This is my girlfriend's baby, complete with her stuffed toy raccoon (don't ask).











This is early in the trip. Notice the glorious sun.











This is further in the trip. Kinda ominous, huh?











This is at the Welcome Center, now with a very wet raccoon.

More Pictures From The Trip

Here are a few more pictures.













This was one very wet raccoon.











All dried out on the next day. Sunshine - Yay!!!











Mile High Bridge at Grandfather Mountain. Notice that it is starting to get cloudy again - Boo!











This doesn't have anything to do with the trip. It is just a gratuitous photo from my girlfriend's front porch at sunset. It is views like this that make me love North Carolina!

An Introduction to my "Children"

Hello everyone,

I thought I would take a few minutes to make a gratuitous post and introduce you to my "children". They are the joy of my life. They keep me company, and they seem to be pretty good judges of mood. If I am in a good mood, they are in a good mood with me. If I am sad, they almost always know what to do to bring a smile to my face.

I have two sets of "children". . . my children and my stepchildren. I have two cats in my household and my girlfriend has five in hers, which I consider my stepchildren (five cats, you ask? - you'll see below). Both of my children are roughly three years old.

First there is Sylvester, a.k.a. Bubba, and occasionally Dammit. I don't remember exactly where the name "Bubba" came from. It just kinda' happened. You can probably guess where Dammit came from. He is the mischievous one in the family. He is also a heavyweight. He weighs in at 16 pounds.



Next is Ms. Kitty, a.k.a. Princess. She is the shy, timid one in my house. As you can see from the expression on her face, she doesn't like cameras. :-) I inherited her from my grandmother. She is the lightweight - less than nine pounds, and all fur.

Taking Ms. Kitty into my household was an interesting experience. As I mentioned, she is very shy, and she DOES NOT like other cats. My grandmother was the only one she would come out from under the furniture for. She spent the first couple of months in hiding, and I spent the first several months keeping her from getting attacked by Sylvester, or at least I thought that is what I was doing. He wouldn't hurt her, but he likes to push her buttons because he is twice her size. She wasn't real fond of him. He finally backed her too far into the corner one day, and that was when I learned she wasn't as helpless or fragile as I thought she was. She may look timid, but if backed into the corner, this is what she turns into:

Needless to say, he was licking his wounds for quite a while, but he learned not to mess with her after that. He still pushes her buttons every now and then, but he knows not to back her into a corner anymore. I quit worrying about her after that. I have decided she can take pretty good care of herself, when she needs to.

She has finally warmed up to me and has turned into quite the lap cat, at least when Sylvester isn't chasing her off. He is so jealous! They tolerate each other fairly well now, but they still are not best friends . . . one of these days things will improve, hopefully.

Now for the stepchildren . . . my girlfriend had one cat until a mother cat came along with four kittens. Of course, being the kind soul that she is, my girlfriend took them in "just until she could find them homes". She got so attached to them that she just couldn't give them up, so now she has five. Luckily, all of hers get along with each other.

First is Rusty. He is roughly three years old and he weighs in at about 20 pounds. Let me tell you something . . . when a 20 pound cat launches into your lap, you know it. I am surprised there haven't been any cracked ribs yet. :-) Then there are Harley, Socks, Spot, and Yoda.


This is Harley, Rusty, and Socks. Rusty is like the ambivalent dictator. He rules the house with a gentle but firm paw. The others all love him, but they respect his authority. He seldom strikes out at any of the younger ones, but he will "correct" them if they need it.

This is Spot. She and Harley are the girly-girls in the house. They are cute, and they know it. They can really turn on the charm. :-)





Here is another picture of Socks, this time with Yoda. They are the two youngest boys. They are both full of energy, and can be pretty mischievous when they want to be.


Anyway, as you can tell there is never a dull moment, between the battles at my house and four young cats at her house. It will be interesting to see how everyone gets along when we finally get married and merge the two groups into one big, happy Brady Bunch family. Wish us luck . . . I think we're gonna' need it.

The ironic part about all this is that before Sylvester came along and adopted me, I always thought of myself as a "dog person". You never would've guessed that, would ya?

Until next time,

--Voice of Reason--