Cross-Country Ramble 14: Harleys

Sent: 96-04-30 17:53:00 EDT

We must be cycling through Harley country. Last weekend, on our way to Phoenix, it looked as if every Harley Davidson in Arizona was going through Wickenburg. We learned later there was a rally in Laughlin, NV, that weekend. This weekend we continued to see Harley riders, couples as well as single male or female riders. They wave to Ken and me in friendly camaraderie as they pass by. I am amused. The common elements between a Harley Davidson and recumbents are very thin. Nonetheless, I like being included in their group if only momentarily. It brings back memories of my Dad.

I remember racing to the corner of our street when I though I heard a motorcycle coming. I would arrive breathless, in the hope my Dad would whisk me up on the seat and give me a ride the last 100 feet home. It was so exciting.

Our family was full of Harley lore. My dad and mother went from Detroit to Springfield, Illinois on a Harley with my older brother and sister in a sidecar. How I wished I had been part of that adventure. One time my mother towed my father home in his newly painted Harley and didn't slow down when she pulled into the driveway, sending my father and the cycle into the ditch.

Ever since my dad died in 1985, I have imagined a group of Harley riders coming down from Harley Heaven to lead the way for my Dad.

When the Harley riders wave, I always wave back. I'm glad I'm still a member of the group.

Carol