Motocross Madness

One of the things that Husband likes to do is ride dirt bikes. Unfortunately he doesn't own one now, but we have friends who have spares so he can ride. I think it's great for him. It's good exercise, good therapy, good all the way around. Our friend KB is an amazing rider. He's one of those guys who looks like he was born on a bike. He makes it look easy.

I get the whole dirt bike thing. I ride, though not like the guys do. I'm not that good. But I completely understand the appeal of riding. What I don't get is the day long preparation that happened on Saturday.

One of our friends, Matt, lives with his dad a few miles away from us. (He used to live with us too, but that's another story. Fortunately it ended better than this last go round and we're still friends with him.) Matt's dad is a packrat of the highest order. His house and the property around it are littered with every manner of car, boat, dirt bike, motorcycle, tool, you name it and Tom probably has it. Whether he can find it is another story.

So Husband had to go over to Matt's to get the bike ready for the ride they were going to take on Sunday. Husband and I had a lovely lunch with my parents and brother in a pretty shi-shi restaurant on Saturday. We were both dressed in our "going out" clothes. I even wore a belt that matched my shoes, c'mon. After lunch we drove straight to Matt's house to work on the bikes. At this point it was like 2:00 pm. As soon as I tried to walk up the driveway I wished I'd gone home to change. I believe I've mentioned before that I'm 4'11". Because of my height deficiency I often wear what I call "tall shoes". Typically these consist of sandaly type shoes with like a 4" lift. Okay, maybe only 3". Regardless, they are not the shoes you want to be wearing when you're walking up a steep gravel driveway. Thankfully I managed not to fall at any point during the day. Considering I was drinking tequila all day I'd say that's pretty good.

So the guys got to work on the bikes. KB's bike needed a new shift lever and some other random shit. I don't know what was going on with the bike Husband was going to ride. They had the carburetor all torn apart, I don't think they really knew what was wrong with it either. I mean, you can imagine, right? Five guys working on bikes together, getting shit-faced at the same time. Testosterone being what it is, tempers are bound to flare. No one got into it, but people were starting to get a little cranky.

Guess who else was starting to get cranky when it's three hours later and the sun is going down and it's getting cold and I'm still in my tall shoes? Yeah, me. I was buzzed on tequila, freezing cold, tired of watching bike repair 101, and I wanted to go home. Frankie was kind enough to drive me there, so I took a shower and passed out next to the wood stove.

And I'm thinking to myself while I'm in the shower, is it me? Maybe I am the jerk for not wanting to stay at Matt's. Maybe a good wife would just sit there and wait until whenever. Okay, so I'm not a good wife. I'll take that. I happen to think the level of ridiculousness involved in a day-long dirt bike riding preparation is extremely high. It doesn't seem like it should be that complicated. When KB goes riding he loads up his bike, makes sure he has gas, and goes. There's no day before spent cleaning or fixing or whatever. Tom and Matt are neurotic, that's what's going on. They're both freaks about their shit and seemingly like the preparation and detailing of their toys better than actually using them. They're constantly working on the bikes or the boat or the waverunners, but they never use them! It's madness.

Sunday morning KB and Husband left at 8:45 am to go riding. I walked around the lake near our house, all 8 miles. Ben and I (Ben's our dog) left the house at 9:00 am and started hiking. It was great. I took a couple of beers and some water and took my time. I stopped a couple of times and had a beer and a smoke and enjoyed the wonderful sunshine. By the way, my dog is the best dog in the world. He's so bad ass. He walks without a leash and I never have to worry about him. He's on voice command, he doesn't bother people, just minds his business and keeps walking. But here's the best part. I stopped at the peninsula and laid down on top of a picnic table. Ben laid down next to me and I started to doze off. Ben started to bark because a guy on a bicycle was rolling up. He stopped barking when he saw that the guy wasn't going to bother me, but that's what I love. My doggie protects me and it makes me feel safe. Anyway, it was a great hike. I got back to the house around 2:30 pm and Husband had not called.

Now, I knew that I had a choice. I can be pissed off that he is choosing to be a horse's ass and not just giving me a head's up about what he's doing, or I can let it go. I chose something in the middle I think. While I was cleaning, again, I had angry music on (Lateralus, Aenima, And Justice for All, Believe) as loud as I could take it, which is loud. That helped some. At 4:30 when Husband finally called I could talk to him without being a bitch. At 6:00 when Husband and KB got home I was pretty much over being mad. I didn't want to start an argument. And while I still think it's very inconsiderate to just leave me wondering where he is for nine hours, I guess I just didn't have it in me to say anything.

The funny thing is that the guys got out to the place where they were riding and Tom and Matt spent all day working on the bike Husband was supposed to ride. Apparently it wasn't running right so they took it all apart again and Husband only got to ride for like an hour. I had trouble feeling too sorry for him, but I faked it pretty well.

KB says next time I'm going too. We'll see about that. I'm not sure I have the wherewithal to spend two days working on bikes.