Tough enough to wear pink?

Saturday night we met with these two pink-croc equipped gentlemen for dinner in Richmond. One is bobskoot, the other guy's name is Gary. The USA-Tour-on-a-Harley-Davidson-Blogger Gary France. Don't they look like twins?

As usual when eating out with the bobskoot family, the food involved lots of raw fish. Actually, if it weren't for Mrs Skoot, I would have never considered Sushi as edible, or would have learned to eat with chop sticks.

Needless to say that we had a fantastic evening, enjoying Gary's latest tales from the road, especially his particular experience with the Canadian border patrol.

As fellow Europeans we took the opportunity at hand and ranted about soccer or the next FIFA world cup destinations in particular, gushed about traveling in Europe and laughed about scenes from Top Gear.

Gary, we had a blast. Thank you for taking the time and visit us here in the great wide tundra.

On our way we caught this: A freshly graduated driver in a Lamborghini, the novice sign besides the licence plate proves it... only in Richmond.

Somewhat scary, methinks!

A Lady's night out, and a mishap

Phew, just back from a business trip to Ohio, I made it just in time for the gathering at Starbucks, before the Free Wheelin' women, eleven ladies, as diverse as their bikes, headed out to Crescent Beach.

No matter what the weather looks like up in Northern Vancouver, the sun always seems to shine around Boundary Bay. The beach was empty but the dames didn't feel like walking.

We were here on more serious business! This ride-to event was a club meeting, and so our group 'invaded' a fish&chips shack (me a little later, because I wanted to take some pictures...)

Ride to eat is one motto of the club, and it's a good one, so Vita's Bar & Grill catered to our needs. Baked halibut, crispy fries, and fresh coleslaw served in news paper, just the way it has to be.

Summer trips and weekend outings were discussed, planned and decided. At dawn we mounted our trusty steeds and headed home each in different directions.

The mishap was not motorcycle related... it was pure stupidity. Back home I stumbled, and hurt my knee again, the one that got injured last year, dead on in the same spot. Now I am lying on my sofa with an ice pack, and feel the swelling coming. Darn, now I can't ride, and I can't even drive (but maybe I can still scoot around?). I still have my crutches, maybe that's a good thing...

Unaufregende Geschäftsreisen

Lichtspiele im Chicago Airport

Warnschild am Cincinnati Airport

Nachdem Sonja im Mai ja wieder einmal für Lieferantenbesuche in Michigan weilte (Detroit und Flint), konnte sie in dieser Woche zwei weitere US Staaten von ihrer Liste streichen: Kentucky und Ohio. Über den üblichen Umsteige-Bahnhof Flughafen Chicago ging es nach Cincinnati, dessen Flughafen allerdings in Kentucky liegt. 

Es war HEISS, 32 Grad mit 200% Luftfeuchtigkeit. Ausser Flughafen, Taxis, Hotel und Meeting-Räumen hat sie leider nicht viel von der Gegend gesehen, aber wirklich zu sehen gab es wohl - wie in den meisten Staaten des Mittleren Westens der USA - auch nicht.
Auffallend war einzig, wie auch in Michigan, Indiana und New York State, der Leerstand vieler Fabrik- und Bürogebäude. Die Rezession ist dort allerorts fühlbar stärker als hier bei uns im Westen Kanadas.