This was our wake up call a few mornings ago.

After being greeted to this glorious sunrise, things started to change drastically for us. We were looking at a three hour ride to the Orlando airport but enroute were interrupted by Williston’s finest. Doing thirty-nine in a twenty-five zone landed me a yellow slip, which will cost me three hundred dollars within the next month. This put me in a bit of a funk as I pondered what I might be able to buy with that money. Things I was depriving myself of in an order to save some money. Hopefully, this would be the end of our misfortune. We continued on our trek. We had business in PIttsburgh. The skies of western Pennsylvania greeted us with their incessant gray and cloud cover. It’s amazing what the sun can do to one’s psyche. It was long after arrival that the sinuses started playing havoc as they did for decades while living in southwestern Pennsylvania. By the early evening, conversation became nasal and the ability to breathe properly was again in check. Over the next three days we would take care of banking, real estate, and tax issues that were pressing. It would be a relief to alleviate these items from that mental box of “pressing worries”. A smattering of kibitzing and feasting with siblings and best friends made the next few days not only palatable, but heart warming. This would be the only heart warming as the cloud cover continued its ominous control.  On our final morning, we awoke to two inches of freshly fallen March flakes. This would delay the first leg of the trip to Philly by and hour and a half. Once there, freezing rains would find a similar delay. But Ryan hopped aboard our flight to join us in the ride to Orlando. The plans were for him to rent a Harley and he and I would enjoy Daytona’s annual Bike Fest for the week and engage in the camaraderie of just riding together. Monday morning welcomed us to sunshine once again. We headed out to Dick’s as Ryan needed to pad his golf bag for some anticipated time on the links with his dad. Following a bit of shopping we retrieved the Harley and began the trek back to Yellow Jacket RV Resort. The downward spiral continues. After hours of waiting, more hours of flight time, followed by a hotel bed, and a three hour motorcycle ride, topped of with testing a new driver, Ryan had entertained back spasms. They’ve proven severe to the point of hastening the trip to Daytona. A heating pad, massages, Flexoril, Advil, and Cat’s Claw has provided no relief. I feel his pain as year’s ago I entertained lower back discomfort for years prior to surgery. My hope is that he does not follow in his father’s footsteps. Time has not been his friend. We have cancelled any idea of Bike Week. The Harley sits idle as well as my iron horse. Ryan lays idle as well. Perhaps this was an omen, a fate which forbade us from the hectic pace of a biker festival. I’m trying to find a silver lining in all of this. In the meantime, I’m demanding his rest and recuperation in an effort to be able to make his flight north by the weekend. Time and rest will be the prescription for the next few days.