After crying like a pretty little girl for weeks about the cold, wet weather here in West Texas, I was pleased to take full advantage of a dang-near perfect weekend for riding yesterday and today. We did the usual West Texas stuff for local rides, but it had been such a long time since we've had days like these, it just all felt new again. The following are a few pictures I took since I happened to have my wife's little Nikon with me.

Hanging out at the Nine Mile:



Crazy Dave makes some adjustments. Check out the custom flamed bodywork he just installed. Very nice, indeed:



The bluest sky you'll ever see was hovering overhead today:



And of course, everyone ended up at the Buckhorn in Goldsmith at the end of the day:



So really, nothing special. In fact, barely enough to blog about. But at the same time, wondrous. As I wrote on my Facebook update this evening, there are few things better than spending a Sunday afternoon riding motorcycles with people you care about, and whom care about you. At 40 years old, I still have the nerve to dream of fortune and fame once in a while. But if life never gets any better than this, it'll still have been pretty darn close to perfect.