Yeah. I know. Jones asking for ice water? What are the chances of that??

So when I left you hanging last week, I was telling you the saga of one more major issue with my beloved Shovelead, the bike I’ve had since 1988, that inspired this whole mess of a comic strip, that I wrecked no fewer than three times over the years, and built and rebuilt and painted and loved and rode.

Anyway. Turns out the problem was a crack in the frame right behind the back end of the primary case. I about striped my shorts when I saw it. Obviously this was something with lethal potential, but at the moment it was discovered I was worried more about what it did to the *gulp* resale value of the machine. Or the potential that the guy who found it might not buy it after all.

You see, I fell in love with another bike. Bad. Same thing happened two years ago when I was trying to get my local Victory dealer to buy ad space on the Hollister Rally map. That time it was the Vision, of all things, that grabbed my attention.

Never, I said, never, ride another bike. Especially when you’ve been riding, wrenching, and wrecking the same thing for decades. I love to wrench, but I just don’t have the time anymore, and I want to ride. And ride far. When I can.

This time it was the Victory Cross Country. So I decided to sell the shov and get the new machine.