RR: An Oregon Pilgrim Gets Barneyed.

Some racer guy from Oregon was passing through the hood, and he wanted
to ride, so he said if we can meet him with a bike, he'd have his seat
and pedals. My buddy Kahona takes my red steel hardtail, Helen Back,
to meet the dude at the park yesterday at 330, while I stared at the
mtns, eking out a living, pretending I could monitor their adventure.

They join up with Flip, and get caught in a short rainstorm, but get
to ride through it, take on some cool stuff, and by the time they get
back, its 5:30 and time for my Tuesday night Barney ride, where we
have 4 riders, and lots of slackers who told me they couldn't makt
it.

Take the new guy out *again*, and my master plan runs like clockwork.
Are you surprised? After all, I am the self-proclaimed King of the
Barneys!

We're all together for a while, but I'm keeping a brand new bouncing
baby barney company, and 3 fast amigos get ahead and add a tough 5
miles to the ride, but we all manage to congregate in groovin
synchronisity at the top of the easy trail I had the newb on. We
lower our seats and book down Hulls Gulch, the old goat in the lead,
when I go back to find the newb gets a pinch flat. But it's not all
bad.

By the time snakebite walks it in, I had the babyq humming & brats
ready to serve. 3 large Mickey's later, and we're doin just fine,
thank you all the same.

The Barney Rides rule these parts. And a bit of local hospitality to a
lonesome, wayfaring stranger who may never pass this way again.

Paladin
accept no substitutes.