Rode A ‘True Grit’ Today

[Marcoose]

It was gnarly north of Alice’s. Wet, foggy, misty, no viz, cold, slippery, muddy, lost of feeling on the index. Miserable. Approaching Tunitas it hit me: Gary’s ‘True Grit’.

And the immediate warmth of Gary’s ever-present shinny personality. Big smile. All troubles gone.

Thank you for the good company all the way home, old mate.

 

[budman]

Feeling what you are feeling in my own way.

 

[flying_hun]

It's a gift when our friends ride with us. The map pocket in the tankbag on my Versys contains the pill bottle used to take a small portion of Gary's ashes to the Isle of Man, and a photo of Hoho that Gwynne gave me. The two of them keep me company on all sorts of rides. They provide inspiration, and in return I keep them out riding, as do you.