Good Morning Gentle Readers,
I'm trying to beat math into That Boy last night and I look over at the computer and, wow, an emailed distraction that was included with a bunch of other photos called Pictures Worth A Thousand Words.
I've done that. Yanked people around behind the boat with the fat Chrysler motor. On everything from patched up truck tubes to hi-tech pull toys with sleek nylon covers, handles, and drink holders.
Best rider ever was
The Flooze, er, ah, Linda. Lake Mead was flat as Kansas that afternoon and she just kept giving my nephew, the semi-official observer, the thumbs up, meaning go faster.
TWC kept saying you sure?
James kept nodding. Yep
No pedal left, the secondaries on both Holley's wide open, sucking hi-test like three gallons per mile, tach threatening 5300 RPM's, I dared a look back. She's sitting upright in the tube, no hands neither, because she's got a lit cigarette in one hand and an open can of Coors in the other. Not sure how she got the cigarette lit. I swear. Might even have a picture somewhere.
tip of the glass to Ken F