Its summer up here now. Hit 100 degrees today, or damn close. It’s so much different than living in the desert the last 30 years. When its warm, everyone has an activity, or a ride, and you make hay while the sun shines. Since getting home, I’ve had a ton of fun, but this weekend I’m going to do absolutely nothing. Ahhhh, how ’bout a little nothing?
Flashback to June 1st.
Woke up that morning and got my shit together and met big D in the lobby of the Hotel. We were flying out together, and it was nice to see a familiar face for one last time. We hit the shuttle, and said our goodbyes in the half hour ride to the Airport.
Flew Home.
My plan was to stay at my older brothers house, and cook some ribs for a family get together the next day. Skeezix had just bought a new smoker, and we were going to dial that bad boy in. He bought 12 racks of ribs, and we’d smoke em on both of our smokers, have a few single malts and maybe a good cigar, and shoot the shit about the ride, life and whatever else comes to mind.
After my wife refused that plan in a way that no man could deny, I woke up the next morning in my own bed headed to Draper to meet up with my brother.
Pulled into my brothers house and started prepping for the biggest BBQ I’d ever done. Planned on 50 people, and I was in charge of the spare ribs. Apple wood smoked for 6 hours, and my homemade BBQ sauce recipe.
Our oldest brother showed up in the Lincoln. My dad bought this car in 1986. I helped him strip it down, and build it back up. Suicide doors, power steering, cruise control, monster engine. Classic Detroit Sled. My Oldest brother bought it later down the line, and finished it off. He did a killer job. The old man would have been proud.
The plan was… (and I missed the memo), was that this day was our Fathers Birthday. We were all to bring something that reminded us of dad.
I will say this: Vern Dunn was a solid and good man. There are not many who are born into the world who had the charisma, the compassion and the sheer ability to kick ass as my dad did, all in the right combinations. Just a good man. We’re all proud to spring from the guy. We all took our turn and told a story about our father.
I started to blog to remember the trips I’ve made a bike over the years. I look back on it, and I read them, as a record of things I want to remember in life. This is one of those days. Pretty cool. When you strip it all down to nothing, family means everything.
Old song…
94 miles, 1 day.