This is a tale of the "The Three Amigos", of which I am one. Gene, John and I have been buds for many years. Our kids were grown and we had the time, lots of time, to embrace our midlife full of energy and the spirit of exploration. Gene had a newly purchased Kawasaki touring bike. John had been in an accident as a teenager that left him physically unable to ride a motorcycle but certainly capable of joining in on the fun. I had owned several motorcycles over the years but had just purchased a brand new Honda Gold Wing touring motorcycle. It was big, black, lots of chrome, stereo system with ten disk CD changer, CB radio, and lots more. We were ready to see America, but we weren't going alone. A trip like this needed girls. Brave beautiful women that could straddle those iron horses and hang on. And I knew three women that were up to the challenge.
We met at the house to plan out this trip. We were going North, up to the state of Maine for lobster, then over to Nova Scotia for whale watching in a Zodiac boat and then back to St. Marys. The three girls were India, Karen, and Jo Beth and they were no strangers to our exploits. John and Karen would drive their car. Gene and I would pack our own gear on our bikes and we were all equipped with CB radios so we could talk with each other while on the road. After all the planning was done, the big day came. We mounted those stallions, spurred them with fuel, then headed toward heaven.
Jo Beth had climbed on that thousand pound bike and settled into her seat which had a full backrest, armrest with drink holder, and full floor boards for her feet. Some would say she had the best seat on the bike. As for me, I saw this blond hair, green eyed bombshell in shorts and a halter top and I would be sitting between those long bare legs. I knew who had the best seat!
We headed up and out of Georgia. Mine and Jo's helmets were fitted with speakers inside and microphones so that we could listen to tunes, talk with each other, and talk with our buds. When we hit the big cities and heavy traffic, Gene and I would race those ponies through town with John in the rocking chair. We got really good at helping each other in traffic. The beauty of riding motorcycles is everything is up close and personal. Not only can you really see the flowers along the way but you can smell them too. Of course that dead skunk we passed in the road smelled like we had hit him ourselves. Whew we, yuk! We rode through those winding mountain roads and along stretches of seashore. It was all beautiful.
As we were going through upstate New York on those winding mountain roads, I encountered an unexpected hitch hiker. We were heading north he was heading west. Somehow he missed my windshield but caught me on the side of my head just in front of my helmet. I reached in my helmet to remove the intruder but not before that bumble bee showed his displeasure at my interfering with his flight home. I pulled the reigns on those 100 horses, snatched off my helmet to see that rascal drop to the road and he would never sting another soul. The rest of the trip would be great. The lobster was excellent, the whales were exciting to see from a rubber boat that was smaller than them, and we all came back friends and would ride again. Adios Amigos!
We met at the house to plan out this trip. We were going North, up to the state of Maine for lobster, then over to Nova Scotia for whale watching in a Zodiac boat and then back to St. Marys. The three girls were India, Karen, and Jo Beth and they were no strangers to our exploits. John and Karen would drive their car. Gene and I would pack our own gear on our bikes and we were all equipped with CB radios so we could talk with each other while on the road. After all the planning was done, the big day came. We mounted those stallions, spurred them with fuel, then headed toward heaven.
Jo Beth had climbed on that thousand pound bike and settled into her seat which had a full backrest, armrest with drink holder, and full floor boards for her feet. Some would say she had the best seat on the bike. As for me, I saw this blond hair, green eyed bombshell in shorts and a halter top and I would be sitting between those long bare legs. I knew who had the best seat!
We headed up and out of Georgia. Mine and Jo's helmets were fitted with speakers inside and microphones so that we could listen to tunes, talk with each other, and talk with our buds. When we hit the big cities and heavy traffic, Gene and I would race those ponies through town with John in the rocking chair. We got really good at helping each other in traffic. The beauty of riding motorcycles is everything is up close and personal. Not only can you really see the flowers along the way but you can smell them too. Of course that dead skunk we passed in the road smelled like we had hit him ourselves. Whew we, yuk! We rode through those winding mountain roads and along stretches of seashore. It was all beautiful.
As we were going through upstate New York on those winding mountain roads, I encountered an unexpected hitch hiker. We were heading north he was heading west. Somehow he missed my windshield but caught me on the side of my head just in front of my helmet. I reached in my helmet to remove the intruder but not before that bumble bee showed his displeasure at my interfering with his flight home. I pulled the reigns on those 100 horses, snatched off my helmet to see that rascal drop to the road and he would never sting another soul. The rest of the trip would be great. The lobster was excellent, the whales were exciting to see from a rubber boat that was smaller than them, and we all came back friends and would ride again. Adios Amigos!
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