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| The first thing I realized was that my goal of talking to bikers along the way was going to be very difficult to attain. The time of year that I was traveling, and the days of the week I was traveling made it very hard to run into the type of candidates that I wanted to talk to. | |
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Regardless of that point, the solitude, the beauty and the emotions soon took control of me and my little trip. All of a sudden, I was no longer in control of where & how my trip was going to go. I surrendered to the whim of the moment. I drank in scenic marvels. I was immersed in a symphony of striking colors and smells and feelings. |
| Every turn, every stretch of road, every peek at the ocean brought on multiple cerebral orgasms. I did not tire from one tick of the odometer. My eyes were open to their fullest and they were gulping beauty at an alarming rate. My heart was a balloon, ever expanding but never close to bursting. I wondered more than once how much more my mind could possibly take. I had never before been exposed to this much beauty, for such a sustained period of time. | ![]() |
| I have been on great roads before, roads where I thought, "Man, I wish that road had lasted longer," but never like this- mile after mile. I laughed to myself as rain drops pelted my face, how worried I was about rain the week before my trip began. I studied the weather reports and wrung my hands, regretting the time of year I had chosen. And now, while nice & dry inside my rain suit, each drop of rain fell on a smile. I was blessed with only 2-3 hours of rain in the afternoon for the first 3 days; after that it was sunshine all the way. Never once was it an inconvenience. Maybe it would have been more of one if I had some jerk crowding my rear view mirror, but because of the time of year I chose to go, I mostly had the road to myself. | |
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There were times that I imagined myself being seen from the space shuttle as being the only person traveling on the entire west coast! This of course helped set the mood of the trip. The solitude, the rain, the beauty: they all combined to create an atmosphere of reflection . . . so I reflected. |
| I'm sorry to report to you that I failed in my original mission of trying to tell you about other bikers. I wanted to let you know more about how others around the country felt about their/our lifestyle. Instead, I learned only more about myself, and what riding a motorcycle (a Harley in particular) does to me. Now, I hate to sound like a commercial here, but there is something different about riding a Harley. Yes, I could have experienced most of the same emotions on other bikes, but there is something to be said for confidence. Several times, I thought about how comfortable I was in knowing that the Road King I was on was the best machine in the world for this trip. I didn't have to worry about breaking down, or not having enough power, or getting a sore ass from riding a rattle-trap. | ![]() |
| I was on a Harley crossing the Golden Gate Bridge. I was on a Harley while marveling at the giants in the Redwood Forest. | |
| I was on a Harley riding through Oregon, where it was so green, I had to check my skin color from time to time to see if there wasn't green dye mixed into the rain! I was on a Harley while crossing over the mighty Columbia River on the Astoria Bridge and into Washington.... | ![]() |
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