As I set out for a ride this St. Patrick's Day morning, I am thankful that the temperature is closing in on 50 degrees, and the only white on the ground is the picket fence of my neighbor!
This gentleman lives close to me, and he rides in any condition. I've never spoken to him - he rides head down and mouth closed. I'm afraid that if I were to engage in conversation, his Spartan attitude might rub off on me, and the headline would read: "Idiotic aging Vespa rider lost in blizzard - rescue workers give up search for 'that damned fool'"
