Alert readers Les Svenson and Patrick Leyshock win today's prize for pointing out that the Indian (see below) is, in fact, not a Euro motorcycle. I'm sure the rest of you were all just being polite.
In other bike news, I successfully completed my second-ever 160 race awhile back (sorry for lack of updates - blame the bosses), and even better, I did not come in last. I did get lapped, but not until the end (of course, I can't count, so when they went by me I cursed and mentally kicked myself because I thought it was only lap 3 or so). I felt sure I was about a hundred miles behind everyone, but when we got back to the pits it turned out that there was one guy behind me! He must've been having bike trouble. Still awesome, though.
Just got home late last night from a visit to Denver to check out my little brother's offspring (see below again). Early photos led me to nickname her The Burrito, but now she's grown into more of a wiggly pink drool machine. Cute, but dangerous. (My favorite combo.) At 5 months old, she's already pulling hair, spitting in faces, delivering knuckle sandwiches and trying to gnaw people's arms off - imagine what she'll be like at 15. What a scrapper! She's huge, too - weighs more than I did at a year old. (What doesn't, though.) Seriously, she's very adorable, charming and well-behaved - or maybe I'm just a sucker for a pretty smile. Less motivated than ever to dabble in that whole enterprise myself, though, especially because I'd hate to break my perfect record of never having changed a single diaper. Her uncle Mark hasn't either, and I'm not doing it until he does.
Anyway. I departed babyland for mapland, and had better finish getting my bearings. Mapland can be a treacherous realm for the incautious. Wish me luck; if I can pull this off, I'll post some highlights and warnings from Seattle guidebook research in a few days.
(Becky)
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