El Matador's and Desmolu's most excellent adventure. Writeup Finished!

[Slide Panda]

Wasn't the one I though it'd be, but you made the highlights

http://killboy.blogspot.com/2009/08/teamwork.html

[El Matador]

Wasn't the one I though it'd be, but you made the highlights

http://killboy.blogspot.com/2009/08/teamwork.html

Hell yeah!!!!!

[DesmoLu]

Yaaaay!! I'm proud of us!

I've ridden with some damn good riders and el matador is the best by far! A lot if riders are afraid to let their piloion hang off but this guy just rides it like I'm not even there!

Thanks for letting us know, Ian!!

[Slide Panda]

No problem.  I thought one of the other shots was more likely (or would ahve been my selection) for the highlight page - but hey a wins a win.  All of they were way better than my gap photos 

[kingbaby]

Jesus, That kicks ass! 

We can't see any of the ones here though    (on the mac or pc)

[El Matador]

Hey guys!

Finally we have rested enough so the time has come to do a full Matador-Style write-up. Except this time it will be a little different. Dueling posts from me and the lady so the perspective is not too one-sided. I will fully expect He-man to contribute. 

Ok here goes....

[El Matador]

First part: The ride to Dallas.



The day of our fateful departure we started like we start every other trip, running late and slightly ticked off at each other. I loaded up the 695 with the brand new saddlebags that we picked up earlier at Cycle Gear and noted, a little concerned that they seemed to block the passenger's reach to the pegs a little.

Our plan was to leave by 5, but my parents called in a favor and I got stuck picking them up at the airport at 4. Of course their plane was delayed and I ended up getting back home at 5:30.

While I was out picking up my parents, Lucrece was supposed to go pick up the license plate from her old bike from the shop that did the appraisal, so we could put it on the new bike when we rode it down. When I got home expecting everything to be ready;  Well Lucrece wasn't ready, and hadn't picked up the plate.  She said No Biggie, we'll pick it up on the way out. We ended up heading out at around 7

*breathe in deep, remember you are in this to have a good time, put a smile on your face*

When we got to the shop, of course it was already closed  So I was faced with the prospect of traveling cross-country on a bike with no plates, Awesome!

Again, no Biggie, we'll have 'em shipped to NY. I was skeptical.

We got on the highway and I noted that the ride to the shop has made us pass the exit to the HOV lane, the result, having to navigate I45 rush hour traffic. By this point, I was in full El Matador scowl face mode. For those that haven't seen it, it is usually reserved for the mornings after sleepless nights in torrential rain. It looks something like this:

[El Matador]

So far it hadn't been the best of starts to our adventure.  It had only been a couple of hours into our adventure and I was already pissed off. Well, riding would soon take care of that.

Back on the highway, after about an hour of traffic it finally starts to clear up and I get to stretch the 695's legs a little bit. I hadn't really ridden it since I installed a new set of sprockets and a chain on it, the new 14t felt good, the bike felt good and soon my worries melted with the miles behind me.

They came back soon enough.

We stopped after about 100 miles to gas up and call Slag to tell him to expect to weary, smelly travelers. We had been making some pretty good time so I gave him an ETA. It turned out to be wildly optimistic.

Getting ready to remount the bike I do a quick visual inspection as usual. Something immediately catches my eye. Our brand new panniers were rubbing on the tire and it had eaten through on of the sides. GOD-DAMN-IT  My spare riding shirt looked like it had been mauled by an angry bear.

I quickly ran to the rescue with some zip-ties and E-tape that I had cleverly brought with me. Furthermore I had to move the bags forward, completely blocking the pegs for Lucrece. Uh-oh...

[DesmoLu]

Highlights from El Matador's post:

slightly ticked off at each other

*breathe in deep, remember you are in this to have a good time, put a smile on your face*

I was skeptical.

I was in full El Matador scowl face mode. It looks something like this:

It had only been a couple of hours into our adventure and I was already pissed off.

 GOD-DAMN-IT 

He is just so positive and easy going. That is why I love being with him 

[DesmoLu]

We leave off where I get back on the bike that no longer has passenger pegs. It's ok, I've done this before. So what if the last time it resulted in my being flung from the rear?

About an hour into suspending my holding my legs up, suspended above the saddlebags in an awkward tangle, El Matador pulls over. Apparently he's noticed that I'm in pain (my knee has been a little pregnant dog since the crash) and wants to save me with his characteristic heroic swagger. That is, he promptly installs the saddlebags over the tank and proceeds to ride, elbows out, straining himself over the full saddlebags to barely reach what I call the "clipons of death." Needless to say, all proper handling on the bike is lost. Fine, we only have another hour of slab until Dallas.

A "Dallas City Limits" sign appears and Matador and I do our usual Bill & Ted rock guitar indication of awesomeness at one another. We've arrived!

or not.

another 60 miles later, when we still haven't seen the exit sign for Slag's place, we pull over and call him. Oh, apparently Ft. Worth is REALLY make the beast with two backsING FAR from Dallas. another 30 miles...

When we finally pull into Slag's house around midnight he welcomes us with a garage full of bikes and comfy couch where he's smoking a cigar. El Matador and Slag decide to stay up for the rest of the night chatting and looking at guns and other fun things, but I succumb to a need for sleep in order to enjoy visiting with some old friends in NYC the next night.

It's 5am and we bid farewell to the 695 to hop a plane to NYC nourished with McDonald's sausage McMuffins.

Naturally, it's raining when we land at La Guardia. Hmmm, I wonder who could be responsible for that....

[El Matador]

Naturally, it's raining when we land at La Guardia. Hmmm, I wonder who could be responsible for that....

 

Whatever!

So we head into the city and find the nearest Fedex. We take out some clean underwear and shirts and put them inside our camelback. The rest we ship to Kui. Wait what? yes we shipped our luggage overnight from Manhattan to Brooklyn. It was cheaper than a cab ride, and we wouldn't have to miss a day in the city to take the Underground. 

We had a wonderful day. The first thing we did was go to the Time-Warner center to get some good grub for a picnic at the park:





The Platypus saw a golden Penis, so of course It got excited and wanted to Syphillize it.



Lunch at Central Park:




By the end of lunch, it started sprinkling. Oh shit! I think NY suspects I'm here. By the time we started moving, the city had realized I was inside it. We had to run for our lives dodging tourists with umbrellas who ran into us because the rain was so hard we could not see 5 feet in front of us.

We took refuge at FAO Schwartz. Lucrece found a good way to take out her frustration:

[DesmoLu]

Yes, that is me kicking a baby. It was so life-like and expensive. I just HAD too!

I had spent quite some time planning our couple of days in NYC. I hadn't been to the city in two years since I lived there, had a lot of old friends to catch up with, but really wanted to show my Matador my version of the City. Alas, I should have know it would just rain and rain and so little of what I had planned would be possible. Rooftop picnic? Fail. Empire State? Fail. Greenwich stroll? Fail. Well, at least we got a little picnic in Central Park in.

Once every toy in FAO Schwartz had been Syphilized beyond repair, we venture out into the rain to the Met. By the time we arrive we are so soaked and pathetic looking the entry staff makes sure to tell us the donation is "only suggested" and we can "pay whatever we can afford to enter." Nice.

Our Platypus loved syphilizing the great Sphinx:


Stealing a kiss inside a pyramid:


We close down the Met and head out to do what everyone in NYC does when it's cold out: pay way too much for a cup of hot cocoa. As the rain begins to let up, we head over to Lincoln Center to sit out by the fountain and people-watch at an old favorite spot. However, Lincoln Center also found out El Matador was coming and boarded up the entire place for construction. It's about 5 second after we get there and the downpour resumes:


There is only one thing left to do: find a giant New York style pizza. We devour the pizza and settle in for the night at my friend's place in Forest Hills, Queens.

[El Matador]

There is only one thing left to do: find a giant New York style pizza. We devour the pizza and settle in for the night at my friend's place in Forest Hills, Queens.

God that pizza was glorious. Damn It! i'm hungry.

[DesmoLu]

It is Day 2 in NYC and we awake in search of the neighborhood pastry shop. I've been out of East Coast for nearly two years and my blood craves authentic cannolis and black and white cookies like a Twilight Vampire craves fat teenager blood.

Our pastries are heavenly. El Matador scowls at them in delight:


While I promised El Matador a "typical Lucrece in NYC leisure day" we also had to take our Platypus to see all the major tourist spots as it is his first visit to New York. We're meeting for drinks with a group of friends at 7 that night and try to make the most of our day:

Our Platypus is not please with Times Square. He was looking forward to the old version full of sex shops and seedy bars.


I can't visit Times Square without checking out the Toys R Us there. Even if it is less than 24 hours in NYC and we're onto our second toy store:


I route the walk to our destination lunch spot to pass by the Empire State Building:


We lunch at one of my favorite restaurants, Artisanal Fromagerie. Manchego fondue with Chorizo oh yes yes 


Syphilis enjoys hanging with the cheese:

[DesmoLu]

We were supposed to stop by the restaurant where my friend works as a pastry chef to eat desserts, but were running late and missed the kitchen hours. Sigh. Well, off to the East Village to meet up with some old friends and a few local DMF'rs at a bar that my friend had chosen.

We'd invited everyone to the bar at 7:30 but when we arrive just before 7pm there is absolutely no indication of any bar existing at that address. WTF? I call my friend but get voicemail. Damned subway  I post up in an eager attempt to warn anyone that might be coming the bar is closed, but we have to use the Wifi at a nearby cafe. When we return, from out of nowhere, a large sheet of metal covering the building has lifted and a door emerged as if by magic - it is our bar. Turns out they open at 7:30.

My friend is waiting for us and tells us that another couple had been standing outside the address looking confused. They had said they were supposed to meet someone there. Shit. it's Howie and his wife! We felt pretty terrible.

After a couple hours of dive bar beers, we stroll over to a restaurant called Graffiti that was recommended by a couple friends and had gotten great reviews. Luckily, many of my friends from the bar had to leave because there is no way the restaurant could have ever fit us. The place is the size of my closet in Houston (yes, it is bigger than most NYC apartments but still) and somehow they cram 6 tables and a kitchen inside. The good news is that Howie finds us here and we manage to find He-Man as well!

Apparently, the restaurant assumes that if you can actually fit inside, you couldn't possibly eat much. The plates are so small we have to search for street hot dogs after dinner. Well, at least I set their menu on fire 

We close down the place, find some hot dogs, bid farewell to everyone and make our plans to set off from He-Man's place in Brooklyn the following morning. It should only take us a couple hours to Philly to pick up the S2R...."should"....