It's the thought that counts.

Autumn is upon us. That means it's time to put Betty the bike away for the season.

We decided to take her for one last ride on the weekend. We were going to go to Williams Lake and have dinner at the Laughing Loon and stay overnight but the weather forecast didn't look all that favourable for the Sunday morning ride home. So we decided we'd just take a day trip and head east to Mt Robson instead.

The pavement is new. The road winds and has some hills. There's not much traffic, and few inhabited areas. The scenery is beautiful and the ride fantastic. Of course hanging on to my leather-clad husband for 7 hours is a bonus.

With the full intention of having a meal when we arrived, we packed only a camera and a water bottle and hit the road.

The power was out at the Mt Robson cafe so our only option was a prepackaged sandwich and lukewarm coffee that had been sitting in the carafe for 4 hours. We sat and ate our little picnic and gazed at the majestic mountain. And then it was time to hit the road and head for home.

We wandered back to the bike to find a woman and her wheelchair bound father oogling over her in the parking lot. We had a nice chat and learned they were from Edmonton and the father used to hike the mountain in his younger, obviously more agile, days. Turns out we weren't the only ones whose destination was simply a glimpse of the mountain which provided completely cloudless view that day.

In the midst of our conversation the man who was verbal, but not completely literate (or whatever the word is for not clearly understood) pointed to my Harley boots and made some incomprehensible comment. Clearly he was as thrilled with the sight of them as I had been when I found them in a shop in Kelowna 4 or 5 years ago. Only, it was a cheap thrill for him. It cost me a hundred and thirty bucks.

They asked if we minded if they just sit and watch while we leathered up, boarded and rode off. We waved and we were off.

About 2 kilometers down the road I thought, "That was stupid. We should have put Alb's helmet on him and taken his pic with his wheelchair behind the bike so it looked like he was riding it." We could have emailed or mailed him a copy. Why is it when you have a good thought, it's always an after thought, but when bad things come to you, you spout them out without thinking it through?