Far Out Son of Lung...

So I've been helping Broom prepare the YSR50 we'll be racing in endurance this year. The bike is old, in decent condition, but aging. It is easy to work on though and should be a valiant steed for endurance racing. Its a little bigger than I remember, but at the same time I'm reminded of how small the thing is and how much my body is going to hate me after races. It is, however, going to be a lot of fun.

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I'm aching to get back on the Pinarello and had planned to do so Saturday morning until I found out the weather was going to tank. Its been 80 degrees all week, sunny and beautiful... and the weekend is supposed to be wet and cold. Fucking weather.

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Last night I was dreaming. I was dreaming that I was watching the news or maybe just listening to some news and they said, "This is going to be the loudest thunder clap you've ever heard." and WHAM! I wake up to a full blown window rattling, picture frame bouncing, cat scaring thunder clap that sounds like a freighter has just parked in my head. I'm talking LOUD.

Needless to say I and the kitties were a little freaked out by the experience, especially since it tied right into my dream. Mercury went to the window to investigate and several more massive rolls of thunder shook my apartment before it started to rain. The storm was moving pretty fast because no sooner had it snapped me awake, it was already rolling into the distance. The bass was still enough to shake my walls, and then the rains came down. Huge drops pinging the carports and leaving silver dollar spots on the ground before it all turned into a little river.