Lost Motorbike

My Bonneville is at Jiri's waiting for him to strip the valve cover off and measure the gaps on my bike's eight valves. From his previous inspection we know two need new shims ($8 parts!) to restore proper gaps. However he is backed up with too many motorcycles to fix and he has been procrastinating the job.

I realize as the weeks pass... I really miss my motorcycle. My Vespa P200 has been repaired in Iowa and should be arriving in south Florida by the end of the month. I wish it were here now so I wouldn't have to keep stealing my wife's Vespa to keep the not-riding blues at bay. I really do miss riding, even the same road every day. If he doesn't get on with it I'm taking the Bonneville to the dealer in Miami. There. I just said it.

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Cheyenne And The Ham

Take ole yaller for a walk through old town and most of the time nothing much happens. She and I get along well enough I don't even bother with a leash in areas of low traffic. Here she is on Fleming in front of the library yesterday evening.

Then she veered rapidly off course. One minute she was dragging her elderly ass at the end of a long meandering walk, the next minute she was awake alert and a puppy. The dude in the orange made the mistake of opening the trunk of his Toyota just as the nose driven Yellow Lab strolled by. He had a nice big ham badly wrapped under tin foil. She knew. "Nice dog," he remarked appreciatively at the imploring face.

He had no mercy, giggling insanely he took off across the street to his dinner party. He needs to go to the pound and get a dog with his disposition. I am hopeless because faced with her big brown eyes I yield every time. She gets what she wants. Had she a little finger I'd be wrapped around it.

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Big Pine Key

The cool winter season has brought gorgeous crisp days with it. Every morning when I am at work I find myself heading east on Highway One straight into another spectacular sunrise. A few clouds, a inky dark sky and thick red bands of sunlight breaking through... every day it seems like.

I pick up Cheyenne and figure out where I might take her as we set off into the gray daylight which becomes full blown day by the time we get where we are going. Cheyenne likes a different walk each day, a chance to explore where other dogs have gone before so we stake out Big Pine, West Summerland, the beaches on Ohio Key or the back streets of north Ramrod Key.

The avenues of Big Pine Key are a current favorite for Cheyenne. Especially on days following trash collection because people on Big Pine have a really hard time understanding the connection between garbage and raccoons.

Cheyenne doesn't knock the trash cans over, we find them like this, trashed by the masked bandits overnight and their contents splayed across street and yards for all to see and enjoy. She does her best to help the clean up, and she usually manages to find something edible amongst the bags and plastic rubbish.

How people can live like that and not be moved to buy proper garbage cans with lids, I just don't know.

I got a kick out of some mailboxes I saw, the one above celebrating the famously ephemeral notion of freedom" in a economy built on debt, while below the stop sign reminded me of the proposals to end Saturday mail delivery. That would be an expression of progress, I guess.

I got a bit artistic with my phone camera as I waited for Cheyenne to stop sniffing. Below I set the camera to compensate for interior artificial lighting and a picture of the dead brown bracken ferns came out like his:

At the beginning of the walk before seven am the temperature was around sixty degrees and Cheyenne was full of energy so much so I had to trot to keep up. Two hours later she had slowed down a bit but she was stil game to keep on walking. During that time I met hardly anyone at all. I was quite surprised to see Joe Stalin is alive and well complete with bushy mustache and living in a Big Pine trailer park. He said good morning with a heavy Hispanic accent and appeared to have lost a lot of weight since his death was reported in 1953, in the Kremlin.

There were a few other dog walkers in the distance on the long straight streets but they veered off dragging their heavily leashed prisoners to avoid any possible contact with my rabid wild companion wandering back and forth sniffing this and that at her leisure.

I was ready to go and do a little light food shopping at the Big Pine Winn Dixie but herself needed a pause to refresh so we stopped in the shade. I guess even though it wasn't very warm yesterday she wanted shade from force of habit, because in the summer shade is very necessary at this latitude, especially if you walk in a heavy fur coat.

I like stoping off at Winn Dixie because the supermarket opens at seven ad there is hardly anyone in the aisles or checkouts at this ungodly early hour. The local bums who take up residence in the bushes around here must stil be asleep even though they leave ample evidence of their presence, in the form of trash and graffiti. This one has been around a while on the barrier to the Key Deer Refuge. "Casper the friendly fag," which insult is directed at I know not who or why. For some reason I find the words more funny than inappropriate.

For night workers like me the sun this high in the sky spells only one thing: time to get back in my coffin and sleep in the darkness of my bedroom/cave.

Cheyenne could hang around for hours but as reluctant as I am to spoil her fun, I need to get her back in the car. And get the pair of us back home, she to breakfast and me to the bed aforementioned.

Night night, until tomorrow, different place, same time.

 

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Bicycle Pictures

A series of photos showing cycling in Key West in November, frost free, snow free and in short sleeves. Beat that wherever you are! These pictures were inspired in part by a comment from Bob in Montana who wrote in noting he faced the prospect of spending a night in a snowdrift if he lost control of his vehicle. Things are different in the Southernmost City.

It doesn't take much to amuse me when I'm out and about looking at what's going on around town. I took a bunch of pictures on Caroline Street with no particular purpose in mind except that I was sitting on the sidewalk and noticed lots of activity. So I took pictures.

Finishing up with a skateboarder, one of those appliances that came along too late to be useful for me, but which still seem able to provide exceptional mobility for those capable of balancing on them properly. In my advancing years I'd prefer a proper bicycle any day of the week.

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Southern Color

I read that winter is closing in Up North and by all accounts it seems we face the prospect of a more severe cold season this year than in years past. Snow is falling, skies are gray and more of the same is predicted for the weeks ahead. Not in Key West, where it is an endless summer. And for that I am grateful. Seasons are appreciated by people other than me. Here's a reminder why:

Big Pine Color

I like the way these mobile homes get the color treatment on Big Pine Key.

I lived for years on boats, a way of living the is frequently viewed with (misplaced) romanticism. I liken it to life in a trailer which gives the romantics pause.

That's because living in a mobile home or the like is viewed with disdain in this country. To me it seems like efficient living.

Put a coconut palm up, paint the house a bright shade of tropical and call it good. Looks good to me.

There is always the chaotic pack rat in an neighborhood ready to live down to the stereotype. And if you've got a nice vintage BMW rusting in your yard for God's sake get on with it and get it running, or give to someone (not me!) who can and will get it on the road.

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