Big Dummy on the Roof of a Hatchback

One way to carry the big dummy when it must be carried on a small car.
Big dummy on the roof of the Golf
Going criss cross over multilple roof racks was much more sturdy than I originally thought.
Big dummy on the roof of the Golf
I was almost able to lay it straight with the tire on the roof of the car and strap the chainstays to the rack, but it did not seem to be that sturdy.
Big dummy on the roof of the Golf
This way let me drive from my house to the ski area parking lot, 7 miles and 2000 vertical each way. This was to haul a bunch of camping supplies, water and tools up into the Santa Fe National Forest for a trail maintenance party a few years back. I was just discussing how to haul the big dummy on a car with a pal, and thought I should share...
From the comments, check out Big Dummy Daddy's solution More permanent like...


Yeah ya moms

Happy Mothers Day Flowerwagon Not shown, sack of breakfast burritos on the backside.


Cat in Bag

Bag cat

Wink 256 does his part to keep Moscaline on mission.



Weirdlinger Burrito Run

I was shuffling about last Friday slowly getting myself in gear to hook the trailer to the reborn Black Sheep Weirdlinger and take the infink downtown to secure some breakfast burritos. As I sort of halfheartedly organized the biking apparatus and waited for the big girl infink, opinionated and sure, to grace myself with her presence, I noted that it was 10:50. Alas, 10 minutes to get the 2.1 miles from the house to chiliworks and get the burritos before breakfast would be unserved. I resigned myself to no burritos, but a minute or two later, there had been no movement on the daughter front, I decided for an all out last minute solo dash to get the burritos. I hopped on the Weirdlinger and noted 10:53 on the cell and tore off in pursuit of the green chili goal.
Black Sheep Weirdlinger, she rolls IMG_7613
I sprinted hard around the neighborhood, through the school, across the big street, got caught at the light, hammered up past the theater, over past the pond, caught at the other big street for a bit, waiting to cross saw the 10:59 on the clock. Sprinted the final block, cornered hard into the parking lot right at 11:00.0000. Half skidded, half laid it down, half cyclocrossed off the bike to the tune of my pedals scraping across the sidewalk and right through the door of the burrito place. All the workers there look up as I burst through the open door and casually say, still serving breakfast?
Guy behind the counter says, sure, you are usually good until 11:30 buddy, 11:15 at worst. So I sheepishly get my burritos, pack em in the saddlebag, meander home and eat some green smeary goodness.