(Thanks
Charlie6 for the inspiring new title)
Now that summer with temperatures way beyond 30C (86F) has finally arrived I find myself declining offers to ride every so often because I simply feel uncomfortable traveling in full gear, and I don't want to risk my skin and bones by riding in less.
A group meet-up would usually gather somewhat between 9 and 10AM on Sundays, and the trip might take between three and five hours, so one will naturally be exposed to the hottest time of the day. Not my favourite, hence I didn't get to ride much except for the daily commute and the occasional evening getaway.
Scootin' with hubby
My preferred summer time riding happens in the early hours. What seems to be a repeat agonizing procedure during workweek has never been an issue on a Sunday: I get up at dawn, and hit the road by sunrise.
By the time I reach my preferred byways the sun has already eaten away most of the fog. The roads are mine! The air is still crisp and fresh, unspoiled by the pollution likely to be caused by later cage traffic.
Not the slightest breeze moves the air, the waters are mirror-like, undisturbed by any rippling. I have been on these roads many times but the ever changing landscape and skies fascinate me anew.
Not long ago these peaks were still sporting their snow caps, but the last remainders have vanished during last few weeks of hot weather.
Somebody's home, and former business, when times were different. Some will see only decay, and today its only potential might be in tearing it down, because it might be beyond repairs.
There is not much available on the net but I found out that the store was built in the Roaring Twenties of the last century to provide groceries and general merchandise to its new residents likely to be working for Imperial Oil
on the north shore of Burrard Inlet. It was also used as a local gathering place and community landmark back in the days.
The verandah is no longer usable for any kind of gathering, today it is a danger to the public, and the former view to the inlet is obstructed by overgrowth forest. As I am carefully moving around the steps and floorboards waver and creak, as if they were to give way any second now.
Vandalism had done their share on this piece of history, and the railing was partly kicked apart. I hope that it is not too late and not been given up already, and that it will see a new visionary owner one day that could bring this building back to life.
Back home at 10AM, just in time for breakfast with the spousal unit.
