After
spending a weekend on the high performance speedy cornering machine that is the Ducati, taking the Yamaha out on the asphalt is downright alarming. With its hand levers at impossible angles (but perfect when you’re up on the pegs), neither the brakes nor acceleration to get you out of trouble, and the wibbly-wobbly feeling of knobby tires on pavement, I get the sense I’m skittering across an ice rink with no way to stop or turn. Of course, the very features that are detrimental on asphalt make the Li’l Burro right at home in places the Ducati has no business visiting. Who knew I’d ever have a moment when I was more comfortable off road than on? (There’s an Easter Sunday analogy in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.)
I took a little Sunday drive, er, ride, through
Ironwood Forest National Monument today, to see if its namesake trees were blooming yet (they weren’t), but this time I eschewed
the river crossing for a bit of sand instead, and took a few photos of Ragged Top Mountain along the way.
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| A fine view of Ragged Top Mountain, conveniently located after all the busy work of steep dips and rough terrain is safely behind me. Funny, I just noticed there aren't any Ironwood Trees in the photo. Guess there's another trip in my future. | | | |
And now, in another unusual turn of events, I have been invited to an actual restaurant for a later-than-usual Easter dinner.
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