Stealing a Metaphor

[bob budd]

Tried my best to coerce a co-employee, me a contractor, to do humidity and salt spray testing today but he wouldn't bite. So instead I went to work and left early to ride my bike home with Tuttle. In the past Tuttle would goad me as I sought to meander down life's path, my bicycle rolling underneath. He the dilligent one, I sought his counsel and encouragement when years ago I raced.

About 3:30PM I left the office and walked my bike down the road and through the courtyard munching my apple. By the time I had reached the guard shack I had cast the core beneath one of many small evergreens in the beds along the parking lot. One lucky rodent will undoubtedly be happy it looked beneath every shrub and bush tonight. As I passed the guard shack I set my left shoe in the toe clip and waited for traffic to clear before heading off.

Taking the left oft taken in error we headed up Industrial Way. None of the trucks that frequented this road were to be seen, in fact few vehicles of any kind were present. I congratulated Tuttle for his research in finding a traffic-starved path for the trip. Up the small hill and across I-93 we passed through the barrels preventing heavy vehicles from invading North Reading's own big dig, the laying of new water lines. Uneventful this upon turning left onto Willow heading for a stretch on Rte 129.

At the corner a policeman had pulled behind two cars obviously dealing with the curious habit many drivers have of attempting to fit two vehicles in one place at one time. Though the right turn could have been a particular challenge with these obstructions the well chosen intersection, with traffic light, made the turn uneventful. Tuttle serves me well indeed.

The trip down Rte 129 included crossing Rte 28 and arriving eventually at that place we all know and seemingly can't avoid going into to shop. Tuttle the dilligent would suffer no such delay so we snuck behind the Mandarin Restaurant and found our way to the path allowing us to traverse the rotary clockwise. Soon on the second half of the severed Bay State Road we made in earnest for Main St in Lynnfield, turning left with Rte 128 in full view.

As we continued north toward Essex St we passed a little known walking trail. I suggested we stop and investigate but Tuttle, his dilligence now getting on my nerves, insisted we go on. Down Essex and left on Winona, then merging onto Pine we headed for Johnson. I apparently had such Rhythm I Blue past Johnson and realized my error only when 128 beckoned. Back I went, with Tuttle nowhere in sight. As I reached Johnson there he waited, the scamp.

Up Johnson then and merging onto Lowell we were now close enough to home to race down the hill and onto Prospect. Passing the mall we continued left up Rte 114 and then down Sylvan St. Taking the right fork we passed behind Danvers center and stopped at Lena's for a PPPO (Post Peddle...). The last mile passed quickly as we crossed the Bass River, the undecorated house always decorated, and landed safe and sound at home.

[markstephens]

Bob: OK, I know we got a cross-country ski report disguised as a paddling trip this winter, a sledding-in-kayaks report, and the non-sea-kayaking trip reports have been rampant of late (although still kayak-related), but a bike ride?

Is this some sort of protest?