I got back home about three in the afternoon with the completed motor assembly in hand. Eddie welded a piece of angle over the cut end of the frame. He did grind the ends down evenly before he made the weld. He also suggested, since there was likely to be a lot of vibration, that I drill the corners and install a bolt in addition to the weld.

Installing the motor was simple, once I read the very detailed directions from the master bike builder on one of the motorized bicycle forums. Since I had managed to keep all the components wired together during their removal, again thanks to Internet instructions, I didn't have a problem installing all the electrical components.

The prediction was that the batteries would not hold a change and that also proved to be true. I got them to hold up long enough to test ride the bike about half a mile. I found that even at 24v it was great fun to ride the light vehicle at even 12 miles an hour. Down hill the bike did considerably more but on a level roadway, it was about 10 to 15 mph. Going up hill the speed fell off significantly.

With the batteries dead and the light failing, I called it a night. I was very pleased with myself when I went to bed that night. I felt that I had accomplished something. I didn't often have that feeling, so I tried to enjoy it while I could.

I walked the next morning even though I wanted to work on the bike more than I wanted to walk. On the trail my mind was always clear. Probably because I walked first thing in the morning. I made a huge effort to be sure everything was taken care of before the end of day. I usually had nothing hanging over me, so I was clear headed during my walk. That morning I had the bike thing rolling around in my mind. Not only was I thinking about how to get a battery, I was also thinking about how I could best use the bike in either my business or as another hobby. I didn't kid myself, once all this 'putting things together' phase ended, I would be bored to tears. That most likely would come sooner than later.

After the walk I started checking out batteries and how to handle them. I really couldn't get a handle on it, so I decided not to decide. I changed gears again, I spent the remainder of the morning reading about a reenactment in Virginia. I had in mind that I might want to just take off and go to it. I didn't have any plans for the weekend, and after all it was Friday. The reenactment was a good 200 miles away. It was way too far for me to drive up and back in the same day. Well, it was if I wanted to see any of the events. There would be lectures and battle reenactments during the day. Campfires at night with singing and a telling of the oral history. Most of the events seemed to be kind of interesting, so I wanted to be there for it all.

Since the encampment was two days, I needed to find a motel in the area. The closest one appeared to be thirty miles away. I expected to be able to just drive up and find a room. If not at that motel, then maybe somewhere else in the area.

When I arrived at the bivouac area the next morning, I opened the big camera and just walked around looking. I didn't actually make a picture. As I expected I was able to strike up a conversation with the re enactors. Most of the men hanging around the tents were staying in the bivouac over night. A few had brought their wives, some of whom were staying at a motel nearby. One or two had trailers in a campground not too far away. Most of the campers at the campground belonged to the sutlers. The sutlers were men who sold authentic and reproduction items to the re enactors.

There were a few vendors who sold items to the visitors, but not many. The ones who did were selling in a kind of craft fair atmosphere well outside the bivouac area. Some of the vendors had a kind of pseudo historic element in their merchandise, but most just sold junk souvenirs.

I left around noon to find a sandwich and a motel room. The motel was full and to my surprise there was nothing close. It looked like an hour's drive to a motel. That realization did nothing to help my mood.

When I returned to the bivouac area I set up the camera and black bag. I shot one image of the area from a spot that gave me kind of an overall view. I hoped it would look like a period photograph when I finished with it.

After I emptied the camera I walked around inside the small tent city. I spoke to several people hoping someone knew where I could find something closer than the motel fifty miles away. I tried speaking to a circle of women who were doing needlepoint. Needlepoint was a big hit with southern ladies around the time of the civil war.

"Did you try the ranger station?" a chubby little lady asked.

"No, do they have information about motels there?"

"Probably, but I was thinking more of the cabins. They might be able to hook you up with something."

So I went to the rangers station before the I went to dinner. I didn't mind missing the dinner at the bivouac. I might have been able to scrounge a bowl of beans, since I was becoming a fixture already. I didn't really care for beans cooked over an open fire. I had never had them, but for some reason a bowl of beans with a hunk of fat meat just didn't appeal to me like a steak and salad.

"Sorry Mr Abba, but all the cabins are full. Lot's of people just sleep under the shelter this time of year. We don't really allow it, but we look the other way for the reenactment weekend. Most of the re enactors stay in the bivouac, Some of them don't have period camping gear, so they just throw a blanket down where ever they can. We guide them to the shelters to keep them dry and safe. I'm sure they wouldn't mind sharing a spot with you."

And that's how I ended up sleeping on a blanket borrowed from the Virginia Emergency Management office. Hey being an old time cop, I knew where to find stuff. I didn't feel too bad, since it wasn't much of a blanket. Sleeping on the concrete floor taught me one thing at least. I sure as hell didn't want to do it again.