Motorcycles

It's December...and it's cold...so I don't understand why anyone would drive a motorcycle in this weather.

Mike drove one whenever the mood struck him, but usually not in the cold. He said he didn't ride enough and that "next summer" he would ride more. sigh. Anyways, I was pumping gas yesterday and the guy at the next pump was filling the tank of his bike. I mentioned that it must be a pretty cold ride and he said "yeah, but I love it." Then he got on, started up, and drove off. And I cried. Oh the sound.

I remember when Mike bought his bike. It was a brand new Honda 1300, low-ride, with nice quiet pipes. Looked like a Harley...but sounded like a Honda. The first thing he did was buy new pipes...no baffles. $1000 for noise. I hated those things.

One nice summer day, I was riding behind a couple of Harley's. I really liked the way they sounded, so I called Mike and when he answered, I stuck my phone out the window. I told him..."now that's what a REAL bike sounds like." By the following week, the pipes with no baffles were replaced...and now the bike sounded just like the Harley's that were in front of me that day.

Like everything else, he was so proud of his bike. He had the tank custom painted by a friend. It looked pretty good, but I tended to be indifferent. It's a bike after all.

So, why do I find myself crying at a gas station?