The Motorcycle Gods are mocking me...
Its not fair.
The weather at Upper Hutt, Wellington, NZ. 41 08' 80" S 175 02' 24" E Altitude 53 metres [175 ft], is currently 34.8 degrees as I write this.
I've just put some bigger main jets in the bike last night, and I want to ride.
Instead, here I am looking after Timothy (aged 5), as Gini's gone to the movies as Lighthouse Cinema is airconditioned and our house is not.
And even if I could go for a decent ride, the tar's melting on the 'takas and the rotten buggers throw light gravel on the tar to stop it running down the hill so its bloody dangerous today.
And even if I couldn't be bothered worrying about the gravel on the hill, its bloody Martinborough Fair today so there's cars everywhere.

Rant over. I feel better now.
As you were...
And I to my motorcycle parked like the soul of the junkyard. Restored, a bicycle fleshed with power, and tore off. Up Highway 106 continually drunk on the wind in my mouth. Wringing the handlebar for speed, wild to be wreckage forever.
- James Dickey, Cherrylog Road.
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