Cursed!

HONEST to goodness, I am NOT paranoid!

However, having said that, it is only my good common sense that keeps me from that precipice sometimes. 

Case in point; I drive to Phoenix, arriving in 84 degree weather on a Saturday, a month ago.  The news tells me a massive Pacific storm is brewing offshore and headed our way.

Within 48 hours, the temperature has dropped to barely 51 degrees F.


IT takes pretty much the entire 6 days that I am there for the temperature to inch it's way back up the scale before I can have a ride without risk of Arizona frostbite.  I leave in mid 80's weather.

The drive home is great. I stopover at the Grand Canyon and reach Calgary in 2 days, fully expecting to leave in 5 days, trailer in tow.

Problem is it snows... big time!

BLOWING, frigid arctic air colder than several previous girlfriends!

Can't do a thing.  Can't modify the trailer, load the bikes or even get at the bikes.

I wait.

WHEN the weather shifts and I finally get sorted, I leave Alberta on the TCH running headlong into a major headwind! 

Sheesh I say!!

The wind calms as I enter Ontario but the clouds and rain move in.

That quickly deteriorates to sleet and finally snow.

NOW I'm on the Island several days later than planned, make contact with my builder guy Stephen to get out to the property and stake out the new digs (get it?  Digs! come on... it's funny)

Guess what?  It bloody well snows, dropping a foot or more in 12 hours!

What did I do to deserve this?  Is it a test of my will, did I do something wrong to upset the balance of the Universe... what!

Yesterday, in the snow that stuck to my boots like glue, making me feel like an eighties disco king on platform shoes, we braved the wind and poked some wood into the ground.

Yet another couple of days further behind.  I got a plane to catch soon...

Today, the crew arrived and the digs (now do you get it?) began.

Too late to back out now, WFO, full speed ahead and dam the torpedos...

Let the games begin!