If You Fry It, They Will Come

To celebrate our accomplishment, we had a barbecue last night. As I mentioned in an earlier post, I had been training harder for that than for the ride itself. That training paid off, as I was able to pace myself through the hot dogs and the battered deep fried pizza, all the way to carrot cake and ice cream with many scenic side trips through chips and baked beans. Dennis, our cook, had put a hot dog in the deep fryer to see when the oil was hot. I'm not proud of this, but as a child of depression era children, I believe in, "Waste not, want not," and to be honest, deep fried hot dogs are a perfect blend of fat, and a different kind of fat.
Incidentally, battered fried pizza is worthy of its own booth at the fair. I'm not sure I'm the one to run it though. I'd probably eat up the profits; I'd probably tell potential customers, "Hey, if you want a slice, get your own booth."
A sad note, one our Hardly Davidsons went for a run instead of riding with us, and was mauled by a grizzly bear. She survived the attack and a harrowing walk for help, but will be hospitalized for awhile with broken ribs, a collapsed lung and other serious injuries.