LOOKIN’ BACK AT ROADS TRAVELED
With the coming of May we’re coming into Love Bug season my BTR friends. A time when bugs between the teeth can only mean you’re smiling way too much when on two wheels. Except in my case, they just leave juice behind as they disintegrate bouncing off my aerodynamic beak!
Mike belches out, “Yeah little buddy, over the past few years there hasn’t been enough bugs between my teeth, until recently. Now I can’t seem to get my fair share of ‘em and you definitely don’t see enough bugs bouncing off your beak either. Lately I’ve found you sitting for hours on end in the garage perched on the backrest of the Fat Bird 3 just staring out into the street, waiting for me to flip up the kickstand, turn the key and twist the throttle.”
I cackle, “Yeah dude, that’s my new riding position. It’s got great grip, cushioned leather for comfort, and gives me a bird’s-eye view of the world flying by. Plus, when riding back there instead of on your shoulder, you block all airborne insects!”
Mike says, “Yes, I’m your bug blocker now but that didn’t just happen. Many years ago, I bought a motorcycle because of a personal life choice. Way before you were even a gleam in my eye. Then, due to another personal life choice, you became my riding partner. Over the years we have met millions of people on the road and swapped many stories with them. That taught us things, made me think, and gave us our spirit. Now we meet people who get inspiration, advice, wisdom, and spirit from us.”
Mike goes on, “We’ve ridden hot, wet, cold, lost, and been afraid of what’s ahead. We have fallen off and gotten right back up, I even hurt myself and you lost a few feathers over the 180,000+ miles we’ve been rolling down the road together. There have been many times I laughed out loud at the wind and you just give me that funny one-eyed look. I’ve spoken a thousand sentences to you and still do. I would sing and shout with joy like a Rockstar, and yes… sometimes I cried. Each and every time you’ve been there riding with me, listening and giving me that unique stare like only a great riding partner would do.”
“We have experienced wonderful places together because of motorcycles and the people we’ve rode with,” Mike grins. “And oh, the hidden gems of hole in the wall eateries, dive bars and gentlemen’s clubs we’ve stumbled upon along the way are the basis of many great stories! I have made curves that even my dad would be proud of. Other times, I made curves full of terror hoping your talons would keep you on the scoot. Those times assured me that you totally believe flying is for the birds and crashing sucks! I have stopped many times to snap that Kodak moment of you and the awesome landscape that surrounded us. I spoke with perfect strangers and plopped your feathered ass on their shoulders for that once in a lifetime experience.”
Mike gets a faraway look in his eyes, “Sometimes I go riding with frustrations boiling inside and return home with a feeling of absolute peace in my mind. I always think how dangerous riding is for both of us, knowing that the meaning of courage is to move forward even in the face of fear. Every time I walk up to Fat Bird 3 with you perched on it waiting for me, I think about how wonderful our lives are. I’ve learned through gestures to communicate with other riders, and I’ve taught you through gestures how to ride with them.”
“Many times, I’ve spent money that I do not have, given up various personal things, and made you do cool bird tricks for anyone who cared to watch. Every grin we’ve gotten in return has been worth it. The Fat Bird 3 is not just a means of transportation but an iron v-twin with two solid wheels, chromed talons and other avian doo-dads that I’ve acquired over the years. It’s the biggest part of our lives. But not as big as the smiles we put on the faces of the people we come across or ride with.”
I take one wing and wipe a small tear from my eye squabbling, “Dude! That sounds more like a eulogy than a tribute. I think you’ve had too much bug juice between your teeth!”
Mike belches out, “Au contraire, Spyke. It’s just the opposite. See, many people have asked me a million questions so, I put it all in answer form right here, kind of like a eulogy except leaving out the death part. Therefore, there’s no such thing as bug juice abuse. I found a Finz Finds scenic motorcycle ride route on the Born To Ride website that I’ve been wanting to do for years. It’s time to get your talons touching the backrest, my smile in the wind, and the wheels of the Fat Bird 3 rolling down the bug-laden scenic roads of Florida.”
–SPYKE