Sunday, October 16, 2011

Bike This

After several days of feeling kind of down, i.e., old, cranky and depressed, I decide to head for Graham Hills Park in Pleasantville, up in Westchester County for a little treasure hunting. There is a very well hidden box belonging to Mushroom that I failed to find the first time.

Sadly, I forgot one very important point....Graham Hills is a popular park with mountain bikers. There were so many cars in the parking lot with empty racks on them and so many twenty-something guys in way too tight biking shorts in the process of getting bikes off their racks that I turned around and left.

I had a couple of stray clues in the car so I headed for Mt. Kisco to get a couple of suzietoots's old plants. I'm in the process of trying to catch up on old Westchester boxes I haven't gotten around to. The first one is on a small little road in a fairly well to do area of Mt. Kisco with very little through traffic. On the first pass by the tree and spot in the rock wall where the box is, there is a young guy driving a jeep and in the process of parking NEXT to the tree and starting to talk on his cell phone. I drive by. On the next pass, he is gone and there is a limo driver in one of those big black town cars sitting there killing time on HIS cellphone. I drive by.

In the meantime my car has starting making this weird screeching noise in the area of what sounds like under the left front tire. I stop. I look. I see nothing. No tree limb, nothing bent, nothing out of the ordinary. Though I'm not sure I would know if I did see something out of the ordinary. I feel underneath. Nothing. I drive. Noise comes and goes. I stop. Tire and hubcap seem secure. I drive. I speed up. Noise goes away. I slow down, hear noise again, always seeming like it has to do with turning of the tire. I drive back to tree. Limo driver still yakking.

I decide to take a chance and drive home rather than call Geico or Honda. I get home without incident, driving slower than I ordinarily would on the highway.

Sometimes it just doesn't pay to stop feeling old, cranky, and depressed.

You gotta laugh.