Saturday, August 15, 2009

Venti Soy Latte Non-Fat with room please....

Do you ever wonder why every old frame that you find is cracked? Back before men fired up thier Harleys, and rode 3/4 of a mile to the local coffee house, to spend half the day looking at each others new store bought foot pegs, there were real bikers. Men who rode hard and daily, rain or shine, country road or cow trail. Have you ever tried to explain to a kid what a real biker is? it's like trying to explain acid rock, or an 8-track player. By the way, Martin Lawrence in Wild Hawgs is not what I'm talking about. Every so often, you can still see a true biker, but it is rare. Now I'm not talking about outlaws, I'm talking about the guy you rides for the love of it, because it's in his soul. I just met this last week, a man in his 70's who just got off of a 7,000 mile trip around the U.S and Canada on a Suzuki 400 enduro, fitted with a solo saddle and artillery boxes. Is this guy a real biker? My vote is yes.

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