Yo, Adrian

Workin' is for suckers!

KevAndDonna had some extra PTO to burn before the end of the year, and we put aside an unscheduled day for that bolt from the blue when the weather is supposed to be perfect for riding and we sit looking out the window. Even in the winter you get those surprise days, but as the corollary to Murphy's Law states, the odds that this will happen on a weekend is nowhere near as good as 2 of 7.

Last weekend, that day looked for all the world like the coming Thursday, and with the year-end craziness right around the corner, we put in our PTO first thing Monday. I will say at this time that the weather never did get as sunny as the forecast called for even that very morning. But we stayed dry. And Donna got to try out her new 'lectric gloves.

Philly is home to what is allegedly the largest rolling toy run in the country. Of all the things we've done, we've never been to that, so we were going to try like hell to get there on Sunday. This made it an easy decision to take an old horse-and-buggy road down to the COBL and take Donna on a cheesesteak tour while scoping out the rendezvous point for the run.

I will say at this time that I can take you to any number of places in the Lehigh Valley, including J's Steaks and Subs, and get you a better cheesesteak than you will get in the streets of Philly. But I had to prove this to Donna, and it's kinda fun to be elbow-to-elbow with a bunch of lunch-bucket types and have 'em trow da food at youse when it's ready. We were going to be in the neighborhood, so...

First stop was Tony Lukes, down near the stadiums, where you order and they take your name and give you a slip. And you wait. About 5 minutes in, they called for Adrian, and we wondered to each other if the dude just did that for posterity purposes, or if it was actually his name. There are a LOT of Italians in South Philly. Anyway, we got an American Wit, and it was no better than decent in our humble opinions. Next, we headed up 10th St. to Passyunk Ave., home of both Pat's and Geno's. Since we'd already split one cheesesteak, we just ordered a Provi Pizza Wit from Pat's and skipped Geno's. We did go over and look at his choppers, though.

On the way out, we did a flyby of Independence Hall, and tipped our cap to ol' Billy Penn on our way around City Hall. Up past the Art Museum (Rocky Balboa nowhwere to be found) and thru Fairmount Park to Donna's test for the day. Parking at Pat's, her foot slipped in the busted macadam and loose gravel and she almost dropped the bike right there in that sorry-assed torn-up street. But my girl's not just good looks, and had the strength and skill to save it. That' wasn't the real test. Now, in Fairmount Park, Lincoln Drive was milled, still wet from the runoff of days of rain, and packed with traffic. For a couple miles, it's a 20-mph speed limit thru some crazy blind hairpin turns in a city park. But none of those SUV drivers wanted anything to do with 20.

Of course, by now we know that Donna will prevail, and prevail she did. In a few more minutes, we were headed up 309 just in time to beat the evening rush. Fuggedaboudit.