Published on June 15, 2016
under Blog
My Father’s Son Motorcycles are in my blood, in my DNA. I’ve seen them under a microscope, floating in my blood stream, riding the highways and byways of my veins and arteries. Microscopic sport bikes, cruisers, old classics, inherited from my father, racing through my circulatory system, dodging in and out of the red cell traffic, avoiding the white cell cops. I was “born to ride.” Okay, so “in my blood” may be a bit of a stretch, but I came from a motorcycle riding family, and riding is one of my great passions, my favorite pastime. My father was…
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