Sunday, June 14 -- My brother Chris and his entourage -- wife Terry, girls Paige and Haley, golden retriever Wilson, cat and two gerbils, arrived from Tennessee at 6:30 p.m. towing a U-Haul containing his Harley and piles of luggage. I've been traveling light, but that's not Chris' style, Terry admitted.
Wilson leaped out of the minivan and laid a poop in the middle of the traffic pattern, which Terry found with her shoe about 30 seconds later. The gerbils took up residence in one of the back bedrooms, the cat disappeared under a bed and Chris and I unloaded his Fat Boy from the trailer in the drizzle.
"Takes a fat boy to own one," I said.
"Yes," he answered, straight-faced. "They weigh you at the dealership to see if you qualify."
I have to admit it's a beautiful, massive, machine -- all chrome, leather and shiny black paint. Getting on the Fat Boy isn't half the adventure mounting the KLR is, since the Kawasaki's seat is about 12 inches further off the ground.
Chris is a software consultant and is headed out of Bangor International at 6:00 tomorrow morning to Newark. He'll be back here next Friday and future weekends, but he'll take comp time and stay the week after July 4.
I'd spent the rainy Sunday morning getting things squared away at the Branch Lake cottage -- much of it unfolding and refolding approximately 279 bed sheets to find two twin-bed sets for Chris' kids. It's time to get rid of a few.
During the afternoon I sealed the seams in my tent with urethane goop that smelled like airplane glue. I ran out with only half the seams done, but Jane came out and drove me to town to buy another tube of sealer and a compression bag for the tent and sleeping bag at Walmart.
Happily, Chris took me and the gang out to Jordan's drive in for seafood dinners. Then, everybody turned in back at the cottage on Branch Lake.
Wilson leaped out of the minivan and laid a poop in the middle of the traffic pattern, which Terry found with her shoe about 30 seconds later. The gerbils took up residence in one of the back bedrooms, the cat disappeared under a bed and Chris and I unloaded his Fat Boy from the trailer in the drizzle.
"Takes a fat boy to own one," I said.
"Yes," he answered, straight-faced. "They weigh you at the dealership to see if you qualify."
I have to admit it's a beautiful, massive, machine -- all chrome, leather and shiny black paint. Getting on the Fat Boy isn't half the adventure mounting the KLR is, since the Kawasaki's seat is about 12 inches further off the ground.
Chris is a software consultant and is headed out of Bangor International at 6:00 tomorrow morning to Newark. He'll be back here next Friday and future weekends, but he'll take comp time and stay the week after July 4.
I'd spent the rainy Sunday morning getting things squared away at the Branch Lake cottage -- much of it unfolding and refolding approximately 279 bed sheets to find two twin-bed sets for Chris' kids. It's time to get rid of a few.
During the afternoon I sealed the seams in my tent with urethane goop that smelled like airplane glue. I ran out with only half the seams done, but Jane came out and drove me to town to buy another tube of sealer and a compression bag for the tent and sleeping bag at Walmart.
Happily, Chris took me and the gang out to Jordan's drive in for seafood dinners. Then, everybody turned in back at the cottage on Branch Lake.
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