Lunch and the motorcycles

 Passing by my favorite barbecue place, Oakie Doakies in Swannanoa NC. Sorry about the car reflections.

I've often considered looking closer at the store of Harley Davidson motorcycles. So I snuck in their driveway to take this photo. They are just off the exit from I-40 in Swannanoa NC!

I stopped to say hi to a good friend who works in the Ingles Gas Station...no photo.

Then I went and got my Impossible Whopper, Onion Rings and a diet Coke next door. (Almost all plant based!)

Until a reasonable minimum wage is legislated, this sign offers $11.00 to 11.50/hour. It's better than some, but they still are short-staffed.

And cars line up to get their lunches from the under-staffed drive-through window. The inside counter is not even open...thus they avoid having to work the orders that would be there, as well as clean it, the tables, and the bathrooms!

And on another topic...the hosts of Jeopardy. I watch this show every night I'm home, which is most nights these days...and have been saddened by the death of its long time host Alex Trebek (a Canadian as most know.) His replacement is changing yet again...HERE.

Today's quote:

Remaining limber and agile is very important, and when you stretch using the correct techniques, you will feel younger and freer at any age.

Before I was a Motorcycle Mama...

First I was just a date...
on the back of a Triumph motorcycle with my one-day-to-become husband, who is now my ex-husband.

But back in my early twenties, I  was like a lot of women, a bit of a fool for those rumbling machines...and the men who rode them.

Doug rode this bike across country from Hartford, CT to San Diego, CA where he was about to have "Basic Training" for the Coast Guard.

A friend of his lived in the middle of the country near St. Louis, MO, and he stopped to visit Dave. And I happened to be boarding in that house, since it was on a college campus, so I met Doug.  Our entire relationship then moved into the status of writing letters (remember them?)

He sent me this photo, with a lovely innocent inscription on the reverse...and of course I carried it in my wallet.

To Barbara the "Laughing  Girl"

from the dancing prep school hood

with memories of Pepsi on the

cellar stairs.

With love and such,

Doug

Yes that was 1961.  The cellar stairs were where we had a lot of our "date" while he may have been working on the Triumph.  I know he did give me a ride at some time.  And either that trip, or the next, he took me out for pizza as well. The motorcycle was no longer part of the equation by the time we seriously got engaged.

But that's another story.  I share this with my Sepia Saturday friends, and hope you'll click HERE and come over to see what they've come up with as well. 






Oh yes,  In about 1971 I was half owner of a Honda motorcycle with my then boyfriend.  We split up and sold the motorcycle.  By then I had my first 2 sons, and decided they needed me alive and healthy and that motorcycles were pretty risky to drive around.

Several years later, Doug, by then my ex hubby, again drove a motorcycle and had a bad accident with broken bones...and I don't think he had any more motorcycles.  My oldest son, however, did own one when he was in the Navy.

Vista searching

Big holiday weekend coming up, next Monday being Memorial Day.

Lots of tourists will be visiting our area...and are welcome.  But if I wanted to see any vistas on the Blue Ridge, I'd better do it yesterday.  I did share the road already, with about 30 Harley Davidsons.

This overlook was nicely deserted.  The next one I tried was full of Harleys and had no room for me.

Right after the motorcycles left the tunnel, this lone bicycler came out, and I bet his ears had been deluged by the sound of all those motors!

I had luckily gone through the tunnel alone, put camera up in windshield for a moment, then pulled over to look at a small cascade and some wildflowers.  So glad I didn't back up all those motorcycles as I slowly wound down the Parkway.

Come over to my other blog, Living in Black Mountain for more of my vistas pursuits.