Back home in California my father's barn is full of motorcycles. He was a motorcyclist, and owed many different types of bikes. One of them and his favorite was a Harley.
When he turned 60 he wanted to buy a Harley. He toyed with the idea but in the end said that at his age it was a waste to put that much money into a bike.
That very afternoon I went to my bank, pulled out all my money and gave it to him. I said he was as young as ever, he was born to be wild... I continued, "I want you to have a Harley so I am giving you my money to go buy one."
My father believed in being prudent, to spend that kind of money on a toy, at sixty years of age... he thought it would be wiser to save his money for his children's inheritance. (My father gave me my money back, and bought a Harley that day.)
Our inheritance was his youthful spirit, his joy of life, what we gained from my father was his wealth in living the adventure.
Twenty years of memories were made on his Harley.
Yesterday French Husband recalled his memories regarding the time he rode across America with my dad on his Harley (French Husband rode my dad's other bike a BMW). As he talked he grew more animated, he loved that ride with my dad. I got caught up in his excitement and said..."We should be wild, and ride across the USA one summer on the Harley together, wouldn't that be fun! My short hair blowing in the wind, you know like EASY RIDER without the yucky stuff."
French Husband jumped on that idea, rolling out ideas of where we could go, and how we would have to plan it, and how he would have to attach a big belt around us so that when I fell asleep I wouldn't fall off the bike.
As he talked I imagined us riding along barren roads through Nevada, hot as hell in leather jackets. I could see us overlooking the Grand Canyon, eating chips and being bowed leg. I imagined what we would have to pack, and how I would blog... where we would sleep. French Husband was calculating cost, "...the Harley has a small gas tank and sucks up gas quickly..." you see we got crazy and started dreaming up when-where-how we would ride
ACROSS AMERICA on a HARLEY.
On and on we rode with the idea of riding across America. The more we talked the more the excitement grew. Get it on, shocking blue, go girl riding on the back of a Harley with French Husband. I raced over the country in my head... "We could visit Ellen, Kristi, Laura, Mary, Elaine... we could even go to Canada and visit Nancy!"
Then French Husband casually dropped one word that I hadn't thought of... rain.
You mean it could rain? Oh. Like in wet. Oh. That one word seem to punch hole in my Harley Davidson dreams. The other daunting factors did not seem that bad (i.e. sore butt, bowed leg, junk food, sleeping in a tent, no baths, using the outdoors for a toilet, hot weather, sunburned face, flat hair from the helmet...) French Husband wasn't fazed with my shock. He continued riding high .... Then I heard his say, "We could ride Alaska to Baja!"
Okay, when I grew up motorcycle riding was anytime,everyday,..On any Sunday.. but the foothills, the fields, the canals banks were as far as I ever went.
I have to get over the idea of rain before I can tag along with French Husband across America.... rain really dampens my spirit.
Let alone snow. Alaska is cold.
Would you be gamed to ride across America on a Harley?
Can I come and stay at your house?
I wish I could say Harley Davidson like Brigitte Bardot --