My first cross country ride was much like everything else: unplanned. This was simplicity: I got my leave notice, cashed my paycheck, packed my bag with essentials and wheeled onto the road. No fanfare, no parade, no teary eyed lover calling me back, just rubber, asphalt and wind. I aimed East. It would take riding to Montana to realize the need for electrical tape on my throttle. Cruise control was still a thing of the future or for Goldwings. I discovered I could tape open my throttle and if need be could easily break the tape bond to slow down, and then simply squish it back into position once I achieved my desire speed. Youth has a way of scaring the hell out of an old man as I soon discovered I could sit back against my backpack, put my feet up in the crux of the handlebars and cruise effortlessly at 80 mph. Envision that for a moment. Driving along on the highway and along comes this kid leaning back, feet up hands free cruising by. The only sight I ever saw that would marvel that (and by the way I saw many bikers in my day do the same thing) was one time I came along a two up Goldwing with a trailer, keep in mind this was the 1980s, the driver was leaning back arms across his chest, mounted in the fairing was a television set and his passenger was leaning forward to watch the screen. It was also in Montana that I had to pull off for some sleep and discovered other bikers huddled under their exhaust and engines. I sat in my customary position on top of the bike but my blanket was cool in effect and definitely not warm in practice. So I did the same, laid the blanket on the ground, snuggled under my exhaust end engine and found an incredible warmth from the residual heat of the engine. This is the Biker Life.
See you further on up the road...
