Marty came over early in the evening. We loaded my bike on the trailer then he headed home about 8 pm. He called back about 10:30 to ask if we were still up, then he came back on his bike. His mother was upset because bills were due and he had borrowed $500 for a plane ticket. There may have been other emotions at play, but I was ready for an amazing trip and simply could not let this cloud hover. I told Marty that Steve Jobs is the richest guy in the graveyard and gave him the money.
We decided to save time in the morning by loading his bike into the trailer, too. The key to that is lashing the bikes to the trailer so they stay upright and not in contact with anything but tire-to-floor. We used six long ratcheting straps to tie the bikes in such a way that they couldn't possibly move. Or so we hoped.
About 11:30 pm, two Chaska police cruisers pulled up. One stopped and the other circled the neighborhood. The office asked us if we have a phone in our pocket that might be pocket dialing 911. For the first time in recorded history, neither Marty nor I had a phone. We told him we'd been out in the driveway about 45 minutes and hadn't seen or heard anything unusual. We talked with him about 10 minutes, mostly light chit-chat about the trip we were embarking upon. My hunch is that one of my neighbors asked them to check out the suspicious activity in my driveway.
2 comments:
Glad you got the bikes up on the trailer & that you weren't the prowlers of the neighborhood! :)
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