She is middle aged like me, but looks stunning for her age. Being out with her, she makes me feel special. I really miss her company, so stop by to say hello. I touch her backside and she doesn't mind at all. She never minds. Breathing in the cold winter air, it's 3 above and the roads are clear of ice. She starts sluggishly, tired I imagine from weeks of slumber.When I pushed her starter button I wasn't sure she had the energy to respond, but she fires up and after a few seconds the beat of her engine smooths out. We are going for a winter ride so I head back inside to don my biking gear.
Any day I ride Elsa is a better day. It's icy cold and there is mud on the road in places down the back lanes. I am fully aware that if I stall her early on, we will be stuck. Her battery is virtually exhausted. I'm gentle through the twisties. This is not a day for exuberance. We are both a little rusty. The Rose Inn comes into view in the sunshine. I still have building work to get on with, but for an hour the afternoon is ours.
Apparently I am still in love with the old girl.
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