HOG Heaven

For several weeks now, I've been suffering from PMS--Parked Motorcycle Syndrome. The Harley is calling from the garage, but it's still too cold and muddy here to take it for a spin. Sometimes I can't believe I now love riding the machine that terrified me when Fred bought it in 1994. My first ride was less than 15 miles, and I was almost in a panic. I clutched Fred, watching the pavement fly by Right There Next to Me! All I could picture in my mind was Erica and Katie becoming orphans and living on gruel due to their parents' foolishness. That was the temporary end of my reluctant role as a Harley Mama.
Fast forward 10 years. Fred made plans for us to join two other couples for the Circle Tour around Lake Superior. I was going from a 15-mile rider to a 1400 miler in one 4-day weekend. Maybe it was because the girls were older now and less dependent--but I suddenly loved the feeling of being on that bike! The wind in my face, the smells of late summer so fragrant and immediate--I relaxed so much that I actually dozed off!
Of course, the trip wasn't a total picnic. After the first day, I was walking like John Wayne and was so sunburned that my lips swelled up. We rode across the 5-mile long Mackinac Bridge between upper and lower Michigan--a suspension structure that sways in the wind. I was leaning at such an angle away from the railing that Fred had to yell at me to straighten up. We got behind schedule when one bike broke down, so to make up for lost time we rode long after dark through moose country. Eyes big as saucers, I searched the darkness and waited to slam at any moment into Bullwinkle.
But we made it home, and I was hooked. I've ridden in shorts and in a snowmobile suit, in rain gear and in buttless chaps. (just kidding) Down the Mississippi, up the North Shore of Lake Superior, around Door County, the Copper Country of the U.P., over the Mindoro Cut, in downtown Milwaukee for the Harley 105th anniversary last summer. We want to take some longer trips now and see more of the U.S. from the vantage point of a bike. On my wish list are North Carolina, Maine, and the Pacific Coast Highway.
But until it warms up, I'll have to keep waiting--and looking for a deal on buttless chaps.

**I'm trying to fix the big picture at the top!