In our nearly 12 years of marriage, we have owned 4 Harley Davidson motorcycles; a red, a black, a chopper, and a blue. One was a Heritage Springer Softtail, one a Crossbones, the third; a custom, and the fourth... not sure, possibly a Fat Boy. You see, I'm not the Harley expert. This man is:
 | |||||
| Proudly stands beside the rat bike - Number 3! |
The bike we rode while dating was, truly, his dream bike; a Springer Softtail. He has kicked himself for years for getting rid of it.
I can tell you exactly where we were when I knew I had fallen in love with this man. We were on this bike coming back from The Buckhorn Opera House. We stopped at the Flame to shoot some pool with my brother, Todd. I fell in love on the back of my husbands beautiful red and black Springer Softtail. Trading this bike off broke my heart for both financial and sentimental reasons.
I wanted so badly to ride that I attempted it for awhile. My sweetheart rode a Greyhound bus all the way to Tennessee to get me a bike. She was a BEAUTY! A black sportster, all decked out with fringe and silver conchos. I loved her.
This was when my honey was riding the Harley Crossbones. The Crossbones was, indeed, a super gorgeous bike and together we made a pretty SEXY couple, if I do say so myself. What an adventure!
During a time of personal famine... Heavenly Father blessed us with the ability to sell my bike for the exact amount needed to purchase a car when I desperately needed one. I know that this was one of God's tender mercies, even though it stung at the time.
We also no longer had the Crossbones so sometime later, we traveled to Tucson and purchased the custom chopper. Our son, Nelson, went along and the two of them rode back like Los Pirados with the wind in their hair and leather on their back!
Soon after, enter rad blue Fat Boy (?). Found Blue at a pawn shop for a smoking price. Hubs paid cash and rode it home. It was seriously reliaqble and more than worth the $$$. Kinda, wait! No, terribly sad to see it go, however, it provided the down payment on our place. Once again, Heavenly Father blessed us through a Harley!
Every time my husband sells a bike, for whatever the reason... need cash, not happy with it, car needs work, or washing machine dies... he makes a sound position that he will never want for a bike again; that he could easily die a happy man without a Harley. Nevertheless, I married a die-hard, true-through-and-through biker. Not the kind that comes with a beer gut and multiple tattoos, or that needs a near naked, foul-mouthed chick hanging off the back. He is not the biker that rides 10 miles and downs a six-pack before returning to the saddle. He does not need to impress or pretend to be anything he is not. He is merely a man who loves the ride... not the stop. He is a God fearing family man. He wants to feel the wind, hear the roar, and be one with the road. This man was born to ride. It is his saving grace and his birthright.
For this reason his emphatic and prophetic proclamation only bears well for a few months. But then the search begins! Hours on Craigslist, Facebook, and Cycle Trader. Hours and hours and hours...
Our desktop wallpaper changes virtually daily with, yet another, favorite motorcycle from one of these advertising sell sites. A virtual wish list, if you will. It's possible his very sanity rests on knowing that he will ride again.
The search has been more difficult this time. As we have carefully budgeted in an effort to eliminate our debts by retirement, our market is limited. There are some crazy, sexy, beautiful bikes out there. The right one will come along. Meanwhile, we wish. It pains me to see him want so badly but I also believe that the perfect motorcycle will come along at the perfect time. My handsome biker and I will throw on some leather and you will hear the roar of our Harley as he takes me down the road for a Dr. Pepper. We WILL cruise life at it's pinnacle without a care in the world...
 |
| Missing Bike 4 - Blue |
