I had a lot to do in the past month. Inmate 4power and I had been in a deal on a '95 BMW K75 that had been brewing since the previous fall. His trailer shat the bed in the fall, then it snowed, then he had an off and gimped around for a bit. We finally got our mutual acts together so I could pick up the K bike. 4power could get the remaining hundred I owed him. Life was unfolding as it should. The big issue was how to make six trips from northeastern Vermont to the Catskills without burning a truckload of fuel and falling asleep at the wheel. Man, I hate driving. On the bikes, I feel alive and aware. In the car or the van, I get drowsy and wish the trip was done. I needed to pick up a bike, drop off my son at his Grandmother's, pick up my son at my Mum's, and get back to the Kingdom with 2200 miles in Nova Scotia and the Atlantic Provinces between. A little figuring later, I developed the following theory: I'd ride a bike to Mum's, leave it in the barn, ride the other bike back, bring #1 son to Mum's in the van with a trailer behind, ride the second bike back, and take yet another bike on the return run to be strapped on the trailer. This reduced the number of cage trips to two, and gave me 1200 miles through the 'DAKS on four different lines. I've lived within seventy miles of the Adirondacks for most of my adult life, but had limited contact with those mountains. I was pulled north and east rather than west. There was something that rankled in NY, honestly. I was about to get over it. I'd spent two years and a relatively minor amount of cash getting '79 Suzuki GS850G "Warchild" roadworthy. I'd bought two, and pieced a great machine from them. A local fellow painted the bike with four coats of clear for $250. The bike ran well and looked good particularly with a custom seat. I was happy to be on the old Suz. Dead reliable, roller bearing big end, smooth, great brakes, and just so darn old-school and comfy. There's a slot between 65 and 80 where this sucker purrs. It takes ten full minutes to warm up the four Mikunis, but once in the groove 'deys nuttin' like it kid. Stopped to pee at the head of Champlain. Warchild glistened like a diamond by the crapper in fresh hi-viz lime yellow-green. Yeah, I can kick this bike. What you got?