My histortorical love of motorcycles

I love motorcycles. A writer once referred to them as steel stallions. I understand the metaphor as riders of the metal beast remind me of Cowboys or Viking warriors seeming lost in today’s world. Cyclist are lone riders with an independent spirit of exploration, not letting the normal of life as we know it stop their progress.

I’ve had my share of joy rides on motorcycles as well. Sometimes these riders were strangers to me, simply a friend of a friend who enjoyed sharing his love of riding.

Today I was taking my afternoon walk on my lunch hour. As I was walking I a motorcyclist parked his car near a curb I was approaching. An adorable young boy around eleven or twelve saw the man and the bike and asked his mom if he could ask the rider if he could sit on his bike. She agreed and having her camera in hand watched with me as her Mohawk wearing son walked up to the rider and softly asked. Once the rider was sure of what the young man wanted he lifted him on his bike and the boy’s mom got a picture.

It was a scene that made me smile and sent me reminiscing about my younger days and my love affair with the motorcycle and it’s really cool riders.


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