More Llamas In May 22May 06: It was the end of a really crappy long weekend, weatherwise. The bikes had sat since Friday in the garage waiting for a break in the rain, which didn't really arrive until Monday. We had planned to do a tour of the Prince Edward County wineries, but the 11C temp and strong, chilly winds from the west called for a slightly shorter destination. As I had finally broken the zipper on my 4 year old Rhyno ballistic nylon riding jacket the other day, we decided to head to Maracles Leather on the Tyendinaga Reservation (Mohawk) for a replacement. It is located about 60km east of Gananoque, which meant we chose the Llama route yet again to get us there. Although the Harley was glossy and clean I decided to take the Ural because of its greater luggage capacity. You never know what bargains you'll find on a holiday Monday ride. We saddled up and took the back way to the Husky Restaurant just off the 401 HWY for a nice, warm breakfast before carrying on.
	As we motored around the top end of Kingston, I caught a glimpse of a sign that just didn't make sense the first time I read it. So, I pulled a U-turn to whip back and read it again, much to the confusion of Angie who was following on her Harley. It made more sense the second time I read it especially after taking a closer look at the mailbox.
	Obviously some yahoo had misjudged the corner and spiraled off down into the ditch, clipping the mailbox on the way by. From the tracks in the grass it was obvious that they just carried on afterwards, minus a few pieces from the vehicle, like nothing had happened. Every city in the world has their share of idiot cagers and Kingston hasn't been spared their quota, for sure.
	Thankfully, we didn't see any idiots on our ride and we had an enjoyable, if somewhat windy and cool, cruise through the countryside. By the time we were getting close to the Llama farm I had to make an unscheduled "pit stop" because of all the fluids I had taken at brekkie. Angie whipped out her new digital camera and for one bizarre moment I thought she was about to take a couple of "action" shots of yours truly but, no, she wandered off to the other side of the road and began a photo shoot of... tree caterpillars. Apparently we're due for an infestation of them this year and for some reason she wanted to record the beginning of the apocalypse.
	A few klicks later we arrived at the Llama factory and were greeted by the usual gang of suspects. With their new, really bad haircuts. It looked like they were shorn by a gang of hyperactive six-year-old kids in a dark closet. I guess the owners probably use the wool for clothing, but they'd probably be better off making jackets for the Llamas to cover up their unsightly hides.
	Both Angie and I were a little more trusting of the animals this time and ventured a lot closer to them than we'd ever dared before. I got right beside the fence and looked up into the eyes of this one and she didn't seem to be offended or concerned in the least by my presence. But those teeth! Talk about overbite! She had a handle dangling down from the underside of her halter, so it would seem that they were tame enough to be led around but I was still unwilling to risk petting her for fear of getting a sloppy, toothy kiss. Maybe next time.
	Despite the bad hair day, most of them were in good spirits. Two of them were busily engaged in a WLWC (World Llama Wrestling Championship) bout the whole time we were there. At first we weren't sure if this was a fight to the death or not, but eventually we realised that they were just playing. The one on the left, Blackie's son (see "Urals, Harleys and Llamas"), had some really good moves and could break into the professional circuit with a bit of coaching.
	New to the paddock on this visit was a group of very formal looking ducks. I've never seen colouring quite like theirs; it looked like they were all dressed in little duckie tuxedos. They were busy strolling around the field, waggling their butts and making little quacking noises to each other like they were engaged in some deep philosophical discussion. I couldn't help but think of all those Gary Larson "The Far Side" cartoons as I watched them amble about. I'm sure that as we rode away they all switched back to English and carried on with; "Well, that's true Jim, but you're forgetting the basic premise of my theory, which states that..."
	We arrived at Maracles a little while later and spent an hour wandering about inside trying on different jackets. They have an amazing selection of riding gear and because it's located on a First Nations reservation, there's no tax on any of the goods. After much modeling, discussion and thoughtful pauses I settled on an Oscar brand ballistic nylon riding jacket that had many of the features I liked from my old Rhyno coat. $200 later and I was a happy biker with my new gear and paused long enough for Angie to take this photo of The Emperor's New Jacket.
	As we were leaving the parking lot to head for home I heard someone shouting my name. It was Dan, the son of Amzy (one of the few mechanics I trust to touch my Harley at the dealership). Dan is an excellent wrench like his Dad and has recently opened his own bike shop just down the road from Maracles. He invited us to take a look at it, so we rode off down the highway while he tore through the bushes on his dirt bike to meet us there. We arrived first and Angie had her camera ready for Dan when he showed up, riding in with his usual flair.
	We were treated to the grand tour of the shop and I must say it was impressive. Even though he'd only opened three short weeks ago his service area was FULL of bikes waiting to be worked on; such is the skill and enthusiasm of this talented young lad. The showroom centerpiece is his Dad's old Enfield - not the recent made-in-India version, but a true and accurate early-50's British bike. Absolutely beautiful. We spent some time chatting bikes with Dan and his cousin, then pointed our bikes east and headed for home.
We had the strong wind at our backs now and the Ural flew along with barely a touch on the throttle. It was an enjoyable and uneventful trip home and I capped off a great day's ride by treating Angie to supper at the Bravo Restaurant in Gananoque. We finally parked the bikes in the garage just after 5pm, tired, windblown and a little chilled but very happy!

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