Thanks to Facebook, when I logged in a couple days ago, the screen appeared with “memories.” It was photos of Anny and I in Daytona Bike Week a few years ago. I started looking at the photos and my mind flooded with memories of our trips on the motorcycle.
It’s safe to say that we all have memories and that memories sometimes are positive, sometimes negative. But when I focus on all the positive memories in my life, I can’t find any better than riding my motorcycle for thousands of miles with Anny.
My mind wandered to trips to Daytona, St. Augustine, spur of the moment overnight stays, a trip to Savannah that the last leg of the trip we had to wait out the storm in a house under construction. By the way, we got tired of waiting since the storm never left and had no choice but to spend the last thirty odd miles riding in a torrential downpour. We can’t forget stopping at a dilapidated motel somewhere on a back road in Jessup, Georgia and a late model Chevy Impala with a garbage bag as the rear window pulled up to us while a lady with a screaming baby in the backseat was telling someone else we were there. The stormy weather made it impossible to ride, so I went in my saddlebag and removed my 9 millimeter and placed it in my waist band just in case. The whole thing was surreal. She was telling whomever what we were riding, wearing, and doing. Beyond weird and to this day, we still mention it every so often. When the rain somewhat stopped, we left. I didn’t need an unnecessary confrontation that could lead to whom knows what as I am a hundreds of miles from home.
I also can’t help but to think what failures motorcycle riders are when it comes to geometry. I would venture to say that no one that rides a motorcycle understands the simple geometrical concept that the fastest way from A to B is in a straight line, but then again, straight is boring. Besides, without a motorcycle, where else would I come across a motorcycle riding nun that shoots me the bird?
Enjoy my friends.