Just now got back to this thread. Sorry so slow. I need to head off on a rabbit trail from my story, so here's a quick thought from the teacher in me:
I spent the day today with an old friend who used to teach across the hall from me. I tried many times to be an encouragement to him during his final year teaching because I could see that look in his eyes. He was a good man and a hard worker. The time he spent in preparation to teach his class was commendable, but the kids just beat him up every day. He tried to run a tight ship, tried to "put the fear into them," but these kind of kids don't respond well to a heavy hand. That's what they get at home, they're used to it, and it doesn't work real well on the percentage of kids that want to run the class, terrorize their classmates, and need structure the most. In the end, he threw in the towel, quit his class, quit teaching, and went back to college pursuing a job in corporate America. Broke my heart, but that's how it goes some times. When you can't sleep at night because the stress is eating you up, I guess it's time to do something else. I was telling him today that the teacher who replaced him was let go, the teacher who replaced her switched to teaching an easier field, and the teacher who replaced her was let go because he couldn't handle the kids, and the teacher who replaced him quit due to stress. Teaching isn't for everybody, but teaching remedial reading involves the type of kids that most teachers don't want to deal with: which is completely understandable. Sorry about all that, I just needed to vent a little.
--Anyway, back to my story. With Dave Cook leading the way, me in the middle, and Jim Cook heading up the rear, we settled down to a comfortable 5-7 over. The Cook sandwich with the turkey in the middle was on it's way to our first day's destination: a really nice hotel near Birmingham, Alabama. Dave secured an amazing price AGAIN. Don't know how he does it. Our first day's ride was rather uneventful after I finished sharing all the good news. After a good night's sleep and a great continental breakfast and a few good laughs, we turned on the Chatterbox's, fired up the bikes and away we went. The most significant part of the ride was coming into Springfield Mo. on route 160. What a road. I got what amounted to a riding lesson trying to keep up with Dave and Jim, both much better riders than I. I don't like to admit that riding at that pace makes me a little nervous. I don't like to get the Cook before the House... oops, I mean the cart before the horse. Anyway, nice part about that road: you don't have to risk getting a ticket to enjoy some great curves. All I managed to get was this one lousy picture of master carver David doing his thing on one of the slower curves. I was holding on tightly with both hands in the sharper curves and the camera was where it belonged: in my tank bag...
The three of us finally arrived at the house of yet a third Cook, Dave and Jim's brother Dale. Below are the three of them: Dale and Jim in the back and David up front.
The four of us headed over to the world's biggest and the grand daddy of them all: the Bass Pro Shop in Springfield. What a place. It's huge: I mean really huge. I bought some pants and a shirt for my trip: something baggy and thin and cool. Then we headed over to Wally World so I could replace my air mattress, my tire pump, my bug spray, and my GPS. Which reminds me, there was one more item that went wrong that fateful Friday morning that I left the house. In all my shuffling and hustling trying to get everything loaded up, I also had to do a little repair work on my GPS mount. While I was working on it, the GPS (a cheap Garmin model) accidentally got scrunched between the handlebar and the gas tank. It cracked the screen and rendered the right half of the keypad worthless. So I bought another one for 109.00 at WalMart. Thank God it worked fine for the duration of the trip thanks to my handy-dandy ziplock bag that covered it during rainstorms.
Dale lives in a beautiful home... I allowed him to enjoy having my incredible 2005 FJR in his garage for a couple days. I guess Dave and Jim must have been really happy about that. The next morning when I went outside, I noticed that something was missing from my bike. I just stood there and shook my head. Ya park yer bike in the middle of the garage with several other bikes, and what happens? WHAT HAPPENS?
Dave and Jim got up early, and without my permission, removed every bug and every spec of dirt from my bike while I was snoozing. I was going to save all that stuff for souveniers. The nerve of them guys. Ya can't trust nobody any more it seems.
Here's Dale along with his lovely wife, who by the way is an EXCELLENT cook. Wonderful family. We all headed off for church first thing Sunday morning. What a church!! The Cooks are so fortunate to have such an amazing group of people so close to their house. Some guys get all the luck...
I had mixed emotions leaving everybody on Monday morning for my next destination in Arnold, MO. I had a blast getting to know everybody, which made it hard enough to leave; but from now on, I would ride alone. Nobody to help out if something went wrong, nobody to talk to on the radio, nobody to help me NOT get lost. It was on this trip to Arnold that my story takes another unusual turn. Funny how life never, I mean NEVER goes the way you plan it. More later.
Gary
darksider #44
