Before this epic begins, I must warn you that this is a long bit – if you actually intend to pay attention, perhaps a cup of coffee is in order, or a sandwich…a big one.

“C’mon,” she said, “go with me.  I’m gonna look at their new colt.  Let’s take your bike.”

She was [...]]]>

Before this epic begins, I must warn you that this is a long bit – if you actually intend to pay attention, perhaps a cup of coffee is in order, or a sandwich…a big one.

“C’mon,” she said, “go with me.  I’m gonna look at their new colt.  Let’s take your bike.”

She was Jane Lehr, a veterinarian friend who lived on the outskirts of Barrington Hills, Illinois.  Laura and I were visiting for a few days.  My wife was napping, so Janie and I loaded up on my motorcycle and rode the 10 miles to the Sanford residence so she could check on Sanford’s latest acquisition, a yearling saddlebred.  As we turned off the road onto the gravel lane that wound its way 200 yards to the 7,000 square foot house, Jane asked me to stop.