I wasn’t going to go into it, but very quickly here is the rub: we’ve still not transferred the tags on The Auld Gumpster from Colorado to Kentucky. When Mandy went in to the county clerk a while back to get it done they wanted a title from Colorado.
Long story short the minor complication of getting a title from 1,200 miles away relegated the whole affair to the back burner. A couple of weeks ago I remarked that one of us was going to get pulled over because the renewal stick for Colorado shows the year, with the month written small beneath it where the Kentucky tags have the number of the month and the year is signified by the color of the sticker. Right?
Anyway, I was certain no law enforcement professional would easily overlook our out-of-date status now because there is no 13th month. I did not know I was a prophet. Mandy got pulled over. And the nice local police officer told her he understood, but the next time he saw her out he was going to give her a ticket.
So my wife, while we try to get this sorted out, has easily changed gears (pun fully intended) to riding her bike everywhere. Thankfully this happened in the winterim (winter + interim = winterim), but I fear a relapse in the Winterpocalypse (you can figure this one out) of 2014.
From our house to town is 3 miles. It’s not an easy three miles. There are significant hills no matter which of the three ways out of our Creek you choose. But over in town it’s pretty flat, so once you get off the creek and are running around the big city of Stanton the biking is pretty easy. But then when you go trying to haul a week’s groceries over Steamshovel Hill it gets real.
Now, I say she has been doing this in the winterim, but the first few days it was still pretty cold and she nearly became a mandy-scicle. I was afraid we were going to have to use a blowtorch to thaw her from her bike the first day. But it’s all good.
Anyway, she’s comfortable doing this because we were dedicated to choosing the bike when we lived in Colorado. We rode greater distances. We went out in bad weather, good weather, and uncertain weather. We hauled groceries and kids through the suburban wastelands. We plied traffic. We sparred with moto-fascists.
Trekking from rural Powell County to the more urban parts is kind of kiddie stuff compared to where we were a couple of years ago. But, and I know she would agree, it’s still pretty satisfying to use the bike to replace the car and find the time and energy trade-off is pretty close to being equal. Especially once you factor in all the benefits of riding a bike.
|NOT taken during Winterpocalypse 2014 or the winterim|