After being chased down a few rabbit holes I finally managed to nail down a place for this week. It's kind of in the same neck of the woods as last week. Maybe a little farther. We haven't been there since July of last year. The forecast is for a high of 64. Lets hope for a little global warming between now and then.
The ride is set. We will be leaving the Iron Skillet at 10:00.
TIME....................12:00
Here it is.............. Nelson's Landing
107 N. Erpelding Rd.
Leonardville, Kansas 66449
785-293-5661
Facebook page........
https://www.facebook.com/nelsonslandingks/?fref=ts
Web Page.............
Map site.............
http://bit.ly/1uLkbOc
Being the day after election day I had stayed up until the election was called, finally hitting the sack at 3:30 AM. That left me with precious little sleep before my canine alarm clocks went off. It looked a little brisk when I got up so it looked doubtful for bringing my co-pilot. After stumbling through my morning resurrection I started to get my boots on and had to fight Leo off and convince him that he couldn't go on this one. Having already tanked up the bike I didn't have to scramble quite as much as usual. I did need to stop at the bank for some cash though. Last time I had to try several different approaches before scoring some cash. Either they are repaving their drive or revamping their computer system or reinventing the wheel or something else that over complicates an otherwise simple task. Well they had their new ATM up and running and I had to take a crash course in persuading it to cough up some cash. After several attempts and some verbal intimidation it finally released enough to get me lunch. I hope they enjoyed the show on the security camera. That has to be a rich source of entertainment for the tellers. Cash in hand I launched for the rendezvous at The Iron Skillet. I was about the third one there and departure time was closing in on us. We chatted and I snapped pics while others arrived and soon it was launch time. Diesel Dave was the last to arrive and he and I began chatting. The next thing I knew bikes were disappearing. I had to cut the conversation short and catch up if I had any hope of finding my to Leonardville. All told there were six of us that left from Salina. Rolling into Leonardville things started to look familiar. I knew that we had been there before but I seldom remember the venue until I get there and see it. Inside the place was a homey bar and grill with a good variety in menu. I opted for the Bratwurst and fries. These weren't the typical gray pre-cooked brats on a soggy bun. They were large and in charge raw (as opposed to pre-cooked) like Johnsonville. They were supposed to be topped with saurkraut but I opted to forgo the kraut. I just can't eat something you need to hold down in a crock with a rock to keep it from crawling away. My parents loved it but for me it was punishment. Albeit undeserved. As a kid, more than once I opted to go to bed without supper than eat that. I'm German, but not that German. My taste buds are more Italian, like my preference in bikes. But the brats were exceptionally good, along with a generous serving of fries. Too bad Leo wasn't along. There would have been enough for him to feast on. As a result I left over stuffed. I was down to the last three fries and that was it. Not another bite.
While we were eating several stragglers arrived. It was the Harley contingent from Salina. So I accosted them with my annoying little red camera. After I settled up I went outside to get shots of the late coming bikes and a few of the gang discussing the most important matters in world affairs. Alas, it finally came time to go. I joined up with Emory and headed for Junction City where I intended to find old 40 and head home. Emory got me going in the right direction and then turned off. I started to follow when he motioned for me to continue straight. I did and found some familiar road heading for JC. By the time I got to JC my lack of sleep started to catch up with me and decided to jump on the slab back to Salina. Getting on I70 I saw the sign telling me 42 miles to Salina. That may as well have been 4200 for the way I felt. Living up to my moniker I pounded down the road til I got to what is always the longest leg of any trip. The 2 miles from the I135 exit to Crawford street. Finally rolling up to my driveway I managed to get the timing right for the garage door to open just high enough for me to roll into the garage without stopping. I got inside, let the dogs out, made a glass of tea and collapsed into my recliner in a crumpled heap.
We had riders from Salina, Minneapolis, Abilene, Manhattan, Cuba, Junction City, Denmark, and Canton, with a tie for long distance between Delbert Schriner, and Kent & Kim Larson at 100 miles each.
We were riding Honda, Harley, Yamaha, Suzuki, BMW, Kawasaki, CanAm, And Moto Guzzi.
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