I must admit I am addicted to riding. I get on the back of my Harley and I soar down the road and I forget about life. Not living, but the burden of life. You know what I mean. The mundane things that make us crazy. Bills, politics, jobs, schedules, maintenance that needs to be performed on the house, car, garage, and even the bike you are straddling.
Yes, I am a biker addict. So what! Better then being committed to the druggie life style or being an alcoholic! Well, in my mind anyway. I love the wind in my face, the rumble under my ass. I even love the feeling the wind whisk my hair back in a bundle as I ride. I gotta get a haircut though I can hardly run my comb threw my wavy thick hair and remove the tangles that the ride makes.
So, what's the point? You, who know me, know I worked for years, traveling the world, working endless hours and days and weeks, protecting the ones who run our country and secure our freedom. For 25 years my goal was to contribute to the freedoms my forefathers gave their lives to secure. I believe I did my part, not without struggles, not without a price and not truly free. Freedom is not free! It comes with sacrifice. You know what I'm talking about.
But on my Dyna, I'm close. I get to feel like I'm part of a lifestyle that secrets a piece of that freedom that people talk about. I roll down the road and I am there, the place I like most, secure in my freedom. If you don't understand, then, well, you have not yet experienced it.
My first time I felt this I was 9 years old. I was on a mini-bike. Remember? A Briggs and Stratton 3.0 Horse Power HOG! Running through the fields, doing a whopping 15 miles an hour, feeling like James Dean himself, tearing up the cotton fields and enjoying FREEDOM!
Then it came in the form of a Honda 50 HP! Oh yeah! Power! Jumping, rolling, running and just having FUN! Then the Honda 90! The kind that had the switch that changed from low to high! You know, a "jeep" on two wheels! I could climb mountains with that one! What a ride!
Yamaha's, Honda's, then Harley's! Oh yes, Harley's! The mother of all bikes! I finally got my first "Sportster" and boy was I bad. Loved that bike. My son was instrumental in me getting that one, and I felt even more special because he was a Harley man.
I don't know what it is, I cannot even began to describe it, but I am a Harley man. Love the feel of it, the sound of it, the freedom it brings. No offense to the "metric" riders, they are great rides. But me, I am a Harley man. And it is NOT the technology. It's the heart. It's the way I feel when I press start. The rumble, the vibration, the wind and road. My wife knows I want to be a rider for life. If I meet my demise on this vehicle, rejoice. My peace comes from behind those handle bars.
Thank you Paradise HOG for letting little ole me be a part of your great organization!
My day was great, started with the HOG Chapter meeting and ending with good friends at the Outrigger on the beach! Enjoy and God Bless!
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