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Monday, August 10, 2015

Ocean Mist Breakfast Run

Our Road Captain (Ed) had put the word out to the crew; there would be a breakfast run this past Sunday morning, complete with lots of miles and a bloody mary at the end.  Who would be brave enough to accept the challenge?

We hear a lot from the other Riders about how we need to get together more often and go riding.  Well, talk is cheap apparently, because it wound up being just myself and Ed.  Matt and Greg were going to try to make it but wound up not being able to, and Artie and Billy are out in Sturgis.  But that’s only 4 guys, and we have a lot more members than that - but nobody else bothered to show up, or even reply.  It gets frustrating.
Oh well, fuck it.  Now we can ride our own pace and not worry about leaving anyone behind.

We shot straight to the highway and opened up the throttles.  Man, it felt good to be on the open road, early in the morning, with only mild/light traffic to deal with.  We made great time and only had to pull over once to check directions, and were soon pulled up in front of the Ocean Mist restaurant and bar in Wakefield, RI.
This place was right on the water and the sides of the road on either side of it were lined with parked cars, their owners no-doubt spread out somewhere on the beach sand, below.

We found a place to tuck our bikes into and nestled them as far back as we could, given the sea wall at our backs.  Setting the ‘stands carefully into the layer of sand atop the dirt, we ambled to the entrance and made our way inside.
Holy crap – this place opens up at 9am, and here it was only 9:15, and the place was already jammed!  We had to wind our way through standing room only and headed toward the water.  There was a small deck on the back which sat right over the sand, and we were lucky enough to find a small table to commandeer.  It only had one stool, and despite asking around at all the other tables, no other free stools could be found.  Ok, no problem I’m not afraid to stand while I eat.  Hell, we’d just been seated for over an hour on the bikes, it won’t hurt to stretch the legs for a bit.

I guess men who are ugly, balding, and standing are less easy to overlook than seated ugly balding men, because the hostess came up in short order and dragged out a stool for me to sit on.  Hey, at least the view is pretty sweet!
 
It took a fair amount of time, but when a waitress finally came up to us, we ordered our bloody’s and perused the menu.  The offerings weren’t very extensive so I just opted for a cheese omelette, and Ed went with a egg/bagel concoction with some sausage patties.  Now we just needed to put our order in….so where’s the waitress?  She finally came back, delivered the drinks, and took our orders.  While we waited for the food to arrive, we nursed our cocktails (that sounds pretty dirty) and talked about the Post and ways to improve things.

It took some time, but when the food finally arrived, we dove in…and found it was merely road-adequate, and nothing more.  That was unfortunate, but it went hand-in-hand with the cocktails, which were also kind of bland.  Oh well, when in Rome…so we ordered another one, each.

We polished off the food, and the cocktails, and talked more about the Riders, upcoming runs, and ways to try and get folks more involved in things.
The weather was supposed to have been not-bad, with maybe a quick sprinkle, but as we watched the sky proceed to be blanketed with thick grey clouds, we figured we might as well mosey on back.  Ed had to meet up with his wife and I had to meet up with the boys over at Alberto’s for Kate’s last Breakfast Club shift.

We shot back to the highways and there was much more traffic to deal with at 11am than there had been @ 8am, so we opted to take 295 and bypass Providence, which allowed us to hammer the throttles must harder than we otherwise would have.
When the exit for 495 arrived, I signaled to Ed and peeled off toward the off-ramp.  A quick glance back at him to watch him rocket ahead, and then it was eyes-forward as I entered the turn, and dragged metal around the apex.

Not too shabby at all.  I hadn’t expected to get to Alberto’s until almost 1, but there I was; setting my kickstand to the pavement at a quarter of noon.  Apparently you really can accomplish a lot of things when you get up early on a weekend.
I headed inside to the laughter and good times that were waiting within.

It’d been a good Sunday, and the day was only half over.
 

Ride Hard, Take Chances

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