Riding With Sam

I was lucky enough a couple of Saturday's ago to get to have a fang with my dad. In Australia that's what they call an outing of about any type, a fang. We usually reserve it for motor-bike type things........

Our fang consisted of meeting far closer to Nash-Vegas than is usually my taste, but hell, when you're on a street-legal dirt-bike that can climb a car, then about anything becomes an invitation to be an obstacle. We took in my niece's (his grand-kid) soccer game on field number five (they won!) and then we got the hell out of dodge.

We back roaded it to a stop for a cat-fish sandwich with beer-battered onion rings (!) on the Cumberland served on a deck at a boat dock, and then tooled almost all the way to Clarksville. We then turned around and came back to the home area another way. Never ever go out and return by the same route. That's major un-cool.

We shot this pic while on Sycamore Creek north of Ashland city. We saw the barges and tug pushing towards us from a couple miles up river and we stopped to watch him come by. The tug was from the Ingram Materials fleet and was the "Charles Evernham". The Captain was cool enough to toot the air horns our way when we waved a couple times, which we appreciated and of course we laughed like school kids. Don't take much to amuse us!

Fanging out with my Pops is it, man.

Word.

PwA