Recently, a young couple was run down by a man driving a red midsized SUV in Anchorage at 5a.m. The press has everyone looking. I'm often in Anchorage that early, and lately I've been driving the Jeep. If I were 5'6" and black, I'd be SO screwed.
My old rule for motorcycle rides dictated a minimum of 50 ambient degrees. Sometimes rules just need to get off their high horses and bend.
Vikki curses traffic engineers who choose roundabouts and different routes than she'd prefer. "Controlling jerks!" she'll say. Exactly why they draw a paycheck.
I'm thinking my motorcycle has plenty of power to pull a little trailer with a canoe. Only the fear of showing up in a "redneck" video is holding me back. A friend says the measure of a man is the number of spark plugs he owns. He has quite a motorcycle collection, several cars, and all the requisite Alaska toys and tools. One of our new guys has a forty year airplane obsession. He says he'll match spark plugs with anyone. Radial engines with multiple cylinders, multiple plugs per cylinder. He wins.
To my friend who earned a speeding ticket - Shame on you for getting caught, but occasionally the law of averages coincides with the law of the land. I'm fortunate not to have a faster car, straighter roads, or interested police. Do the time.
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