leeanders
Member
In January, with a third shoulder surgery pending, followed by a 76th birthday, I decided it was time to sell the Fatboy. It was a difficult decision to make, in that I had planned to ride him until I was 80. My last ride was on January 18th. As usual, in this part of the country, it was a pretty day for a bike ride. I decided to make it a ride to Patagonia, one of my favorite 100 mile round trips. The bike ran exceedingly well that day, almost like it knew something was up. After a cup of coffee in Patagonia, I began the return trip through Sonoita, to Sierra Vista, where I fell in behind a couple of Harley riders, wearing vests flying their colors, both with exaggerated ape hanger bars, and what sounded like gutted mufflers. I figured, from the sounds they made accelerating out of town, that I may as well lay back and let them get on up the road. I was wrong, as much to my surprise, they soon settled down to the posted speed limit, and I found myself gaining on them. After a while, I decided to go ahead and pass. Found a straight section of highway, dropped a gear, and twisted the throttle. At that moment, I remembered what it is to ride a bike, the pure exhilaration, the freedom of the road, and when I passed them by, they both waived as if they too understood. For all of us who ride, or used to ride a bike, it’s an unforgettable experience. My Fatboy is now in its new home in the northern part of Montana with its 50 year old successful gentleman owner, who told me this was to be his first Harley Davidson and that he could hardly wait for it to arrive.
The parting with this bike completed a 52 year history of motorcycle riding for me, while owning 15 different bikes. In all that time, I was down only once, that was because of a tubed tire that picked up a rusty nail on a backroad in Oregon’s Willamette Valley, back in the 1970s. For those of you still riding, remember age can, and will, catch up with you one day so enjoy it while you can, and sometime, on a real good day, give a thought to those of us who used to wave at you as we passed by.
The parting with this bike completed a 52 year history of motorcycle riding for me, while owning 15 different bikes. In all that time, I was down only once, that was because of a tubed tire that picked up a rusty nail on a backroad in Oregon’s Willamette Valley, back in the 1970s. For those of you still riding, remember age can, and will, catch up with you one day so enjoy it while you can, and sometime, on a real good day, give a thought to those of us who used to wave at you as we passed by.
