By popular vote, the limit of two bicycles was interpreted as "per person". I think we stacked about nine there.
Rich found a seatbelt for the bikes.
Safe and secure for the half-hour trip to Kirchseeon.
While the ladies admired the musical toilet we enjoyed the sunshine and tried to figure out how to get to the other side of the tracks - and to the first hill.
An ancient, decrepit farmhouse with barn in Buch.
With the barn and a sign.
Proclaiming this building the center for village renewal. You know where to start, guys ...
A blurry view of the Schützenheim Buch where we never expected what came next.
Waiting patiently for drinks; people out in the country have a different rhythm.
Most of the South American/Italian contingent.
As always, taking the camera to the ladies' room was a good idea.
One of the locals started handing out snuff.
Prost!
Smittyboy was next, skepticism plainly stamped on his noble features.
Which were rendered unrecognizable after a noseful of essential oils and tobacco.
Rainking underwent a sudden metamorphosis. I won't say he looked like all he needed was a German shepard dog but I also don't agree with smittyboy that he looked especially sexy.
Some of the dedication targets in the Schützenheim.
The Schnaps bottle and glass stand, protected design. I love it! Oh, and those Underberg were surely emptied by 12 noon.
Georg, the same procedure as every Sunday.
A chapel in the fields in Wolfersberg.
And closer up, I like the way it snuggles between the trees.
The Monarch of the Meadow
With a bit more focus. He's actually focusing on some treats a girl standing at the far end of the fence was handing out.
And the harem.
Tina (rear) and Angelina who had the time of her life handing out Bierdeckeln, watching dooblie build houses with them and then smashing the houses.
How will we get home without our Dautnless Leader?
We'll manage somehow.
