Strange (and often bad) things happen when you drink and ride.
Al, who hailed from Texas, and Bernie, who came from California, and Max, who lived in Nevada, met at Sturgis and went for a ride in the Black Hills.
About mid-morning they stopped at an overlook and took pictures of the view. Al pulled out a bottle of Cuervo from his saddlebag and took a sip. He passed the bottle around, but there was still a lot of tequila left in it when he pulled out a gun and then threw the bottle into the air and shot it to pieces.
Bernie hollered, “What did you do that for? You wasted good liquor.”
Al answered, “In Texas there’s plenty of liquor and bottles are cheap.”
At lunch, Bernie took out a bottle of Pinot Noir. He took a sip, but didn’t pass the bottle around. Instead, he drew his gun, tossed the bottle in the air, and shot it.
Max asked him, “You just threw away a lot of good wine.”
Bernie answered, “In California, we have plenty of wine and bottles are cheap.”
When they stopped for a mid-afternoon break, Max pulled out a bottle of Sierra Nevada Pale Ale. He took a pull and passed it around. When the bottle came back to him, he chugged the rest, slid the empty bottle back into his saddlebag, drew his gun, and shot the Californian.
Al jumped! “What the heck did you do that for?”
“In Nevada we’ve got plenty of Californians and bottles are a nickel apiece.”
Yet, there’s no denying it: Unless you plan to ride exclusively around the Southern United States, you’ll face some chilly winters. And even before it...
