Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Motorcycles are Fun


To many folks, motorcycles are a frightening and perilous means of transportation. My grandfather took me for my first motorcycle ride when I was very young, and I've been fearless ever since. I sat on the gas tank and we rode to the park. I was immediately addicted!
That was the beginning of many fun and memorable travel adventures for my grandpa and me. We strapped sleeping bags and our tent to the sides of the bike and off we went. We always wore our helmets and Grandpa never drove too fast. Our adventures took us to state parks, camp grounds, and nature centers. We got where we going in one piece.
Grandpa's motorcycle wasn't fancy. It didn't have a side car or fancy add-ons. It's only luxury feature was a back rest, but it was a smooth ride with a great view. I've seen rainbows, hawks, buffalo, and roadside decorations all because there were no doors to block the scenery.
Everything seems more exciting on a motorcycle. Once, while driving west on I-80, heavy storm clouds appeared on the horizon. We donned our rain gear at the next rest stop, but the downpour was more than our raincoats could cope with. The flapping noise we heard was our pant legs slapping wetly at our legs! We waited out the rest of the storm under the shelter of an overpass - and decided to buy new rain gear before our next trip.
Some trips were short - making a foray across town to see fireworks on the Fourth of July, or to spend time at the hometown festival. Other times the destination was the ballpark in the city, which was great. I found using a motorcycle was the best way to move in and out of traffic and get home fast - even if the driving wasn't always totally legal.
Riding a motorcycle is very exciting, and having a Grandfather who had one was thrilling. We took many unforgettable trips on it. Rising bright and early on a summer morning to ride was the best. We wouldn't even set out with a destination in mind, which made it even better. Fairs, museums, we went everywhere.
Many people think a motorcycle [http://www.keyleather.com/] is a scary and dangerous machine. I have no fear of them since my grandfather gave me my first ride when I was five years old. He put me right on the gas tank and drove down the street to the park. That was the beginning of many memorable travel [http://www.keyleather.com/] adventures. We strapped sleeping bags and our tent to the sides of the bike and off we went. We always wore our helmets and Grandpa never drove too fast. Our adventures took us to state parks, camp grounds, and nature centers. We got where we going in one piece.


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