Well, the adventure wasn't very far down the road at all. In fact, it was waiting for me only 300 feet along.
There's an old cemetery on the left side and as I was rolling past, I figured what the heck. I've cruised by this thing any number of times before but I've never swung in. I love me some old cemetery strolling, so I signaled my intent, rolled off of the pavement onto the dirt and grass tire tracks which split the field of stones down the middle.
As I rolled gently along, I noticed there were a number of Veteran's graves here, each designated with an American flag posted next to the applicable stone markers. These flags were the normal type; a simple flag held to a wooden dowel "post" with three staples. These had apparently been here for some time, as the weather and elements had caused many of the flags to pull free of the top and middle staples, leaving the flags to hang onto the ground;
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Well, I couldn't leave them like that, so I rode all the way to the back, turned down the back path and set the kickstand. Fishing a flathead screwdriver out of my tool kit, I got to work.
Wiggling the pole back and forth a little to loosen it from the frozen ground, allowed me the ability to more easily work on things. Using the blade of the screwdriver to remove the staples which had pulled through, I then pressed them through the seam of the flag - nice and thick. Once that was done, I pressed the staples back into the "post" and reinserted the flag back into the ground.
Voila - good as new;
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I walked around the cemetery and fixed the ones I could. I imagine the neighbors were at first wondering what this black-clad biker was doing to the graves, but anyone that watched for a few minutes would be able to tell I was doing something good, not anything bad. (I still was half-expecting a cop car to pull up and inquire about my activities.)
Some flags were easy to fix; just pick them up, use the screwdriver to punch a hole through the frosted ground, and call it done.
Others weren't able to be fixed. I retrieved those whose posts were snapped, and will officially retire them back at the Post.
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At the front of the cemetery, there were a couple more flags to fix, as well as a wreath (on a stand) which had been laid by the local American Legion (judging from the ribbon which ran across it). The stand was bent over forward - not sure if vandals pushed it over or if the winds had gradually pressed it down. I was able to straighten the legs, punch new holes in the ground, and stand the assembly back up proper.
Strolling back to the bike parked quietly along the back "road" of the cemetery, I realized I should have turned it around while it was still running. Not a big deal, but it was facing downhill on a path of loose sand and pine needles - nothing which would give me any kind of purchase for my feet to push backwards on.
After swinging my leg over but before starting it, I figured what the heck. I'll see if I can roll it back up the decline. To my complete surprise, it rolled very easily! It had to have been about 15 feet that I pushed backwards up that decline, but not once did my feet skid or lose traction, and the bike seemed far easier to move than it should have been. In my surprise, I kept looking at the ground to see if it had leveled off, but no; I was indeed still moving backwards up a decline.
After moving it enough that I'd be able to swing back onto the path which would lead me out, I paused and humorously thought that perhaps the Veterans who were buried here were thanking me for fixing the flags, and had lent a hand by helping pull the bike backwards for me. It made for a nice thought, but I don't really believe in that stuff, so I chalked it up to my leg workouts must really be paying off.
As I slowly rolled past the markers on my way toward the exit, I had another thought occur to me...
I haven't worked my legs in months...
Ride Hard, Take Chances
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