Thick as Thieves
I was asked by a friend to make a post on our group's facebook page: Motorcycle Tourer's Forum- I figured that I should probably put it here too. Luckily he has not read my sappy posting. My grandfather made a monster. Like Frankenstein but it was out of a well ridden motorcycle, passion, and the curves of the lower Appalachian mountains. My first ride was on the back of his bike in the long and winding gravel driveway. He told me that it would be bumpy, like a dragon’s back. I was scared but after more than 200 yards and stopping at the mailbox, all I wanted was to fly down the mountain. I was still too young to camp or go on longer drives. So my regular rides started with me riding to his friend’s motorcycle shop and the ever constant Dairy Queen. Before long I was able to leave school during recess to go ride and camp. I did not ride much as a teen. However, the desire never faded. I had gone to rallies and seen that he had hundreds, thousands, tons of friends. He knew e...



















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