In the Ural community, the motto is, "If you don't have pictures, it didn't happen." Well, I don't have pictures since it's a bit difficult to take selfies while piloting a motorcycle, but this morning pastor Joe texted me about helping take down the ice rink. It was a great year for the ice, but was so cold that the rink didn't get quite the use we had hoped for, but that's the way it goes when you're dependent on WNY weather. Son in law Todd drained the rink a week ago, and we had hoped to get everything put away Wednesday, but the liner still had puddles in it. We flipped it over so it could dry in the sunshine we have enjoyed for the past three days (a WNY springtime record, I believe!), and today was the day. Sunshine means motorcycle, so I hopped on and headed to the church.
Harry showed up a few minutes later, then Joe skipped out on his meeting while lunch was served, and Greg Stenta suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and the liner folding show was on!It didn't take long, and pretty soon we had both sections of liner folded and ready to haul to the garage. Except for one thing...neither Joe nor I had driven our trucks. Harry offered to load the liners on the trunk of his car, but the thought of scratching the paint job on his new Chevy didn't appeal to me, so I nixed that idea.
Enter the Ural. My Gear Up has a luggage rack on the trunk of the sidecar, so we each grabbed a corner of the folded liner, and heaved it up on the rack. A short jaunt to the garage, a return trip for the other half of the liner, followed by the plywood sideboards, and we had things put away in no time. Have I ever mentioned that I love my sidecar bike? It suits me fine, in that it's designed to be an off-road machine, with engageable two-wheel drive. The paint job is matte camo, so there's not much I can do to hurt it. It's not a speed demon, eschewing highway speeds, but I can load all kinds of stuff into the sidecar. Pastor Joe signed me up for Annual Conference this year, just so we could ride the bikes to Syracuse together. He's pretty sneaky that way--I figured that retired, I was done with Annual Conferences, but he knew my weakness for a good ride, so come the end of the month, I'll be packing his stuff and mine into the sidecar for the excursion. It'll be fun, and best of all, every time we stop for gas or whatever, I'll be sure to get into a conversation with someone who has never seen one of these bikes before. It's called UDF, Ural Delay Factor, and adds a minimum of twenty minutes onto every trip, but it's worth it, as it is an opening for this normally introverted ex-pastor to speak with someone about Jesus. They open the door, and all I have to do is walk through it.
I am grateful tonight for this quirky bike, for a full day of work cutting brush that has worn me out, and for a comfy bed to which I will retire in just a few minutes. Tomorrow we gather to worship, share a meal together, then do a bit of target practice and fellowship with a bunch of guys (and I believe, gals, since they complained about being left out last time) with pastor Joe's "Gunday Sunday." I am a blessed man.
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