Dan had called the night before to let me know that a flush of the radiator and new anti-freeze had the engine blowing heat that “will burn your hand.” This is the third time we’ve gone through this and it is the result of what Dan believes is a rusty block, which means it will continue to happen. I suppose that is the price I pay for continuing to drive vehicles that are 12 years old. I don’t have a car payment on any of four vehicles though, and I kind of like that.
I mounted my bike and though it was in the fifties, decided I didn’t need any extra clothing to make the trip. I was cold early in the ride, but try to live by the adage that if you’re comfortable at the start, you’re overdressed. As I climbed up Old Mill Road and began dropping large amounts of perspiration, I was happy with my choice of attire.
I took the long route out to Chardon and arrived at Dan’s place about 2 hours later. As I rode in the driveway, I couldn’t help but notice the flat tire on the left rear of the Jeep. “Well...shit,” I muttered to myself. I considered my options. Dan had a compressor and I could fill it up and make it home, but what then? Instead, I grabbed his 2-ton car jack, lifted the Jeep and changed out the flat with my balding spare. I then loaded the bike and flat tire into the Jeep and drove it to Colsen’s Tires where I dropped it off for some new rubber.
Holly and I had watched ‘The Help’ recently and I’d read the book, as well. It is a gripping story of the interaction between the black maids and their white employers in the early sixties in Jackson, Mississippi. Many emotions were stirred by the movie and book for me...laughter, outrage, sadness, despair, hope...and hunger. One of the characters spends the movie trying to teach her employer how to cook, and fried chicken in an iron skillet with melted Crisco is something I haven’t been able to get out of my mind. I called Holly to tell her that we should try making it that way for dinner.
“Why would we do that? We can go to Kentucky Fried Chicken and just buy it,” she said.
“Well...sure, that’s pretty good chicken, but I’m thinking it’s not nearly as good as the stuff Minny is making in the movie. Anyways...wouldn’t it be fun to make at home?” I asked...having never made anything more complex than scrambled eggs on the stove.
I could see I wasn’t getting through and agreed to the KFC. It was quite a letdown to what I’d had in my mind and it’s a theme I’ll be returning to until I get it. I suppose I’ll have to do a little garage sale shopping for a decent iron skillet. The last one I saw was in my grandmother’s kitchen about fifty years ago.
Bike Duration: Two hours.
Training Heart Rate: 120 bpm.
Calories burned during workout: 1700.
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