Yesterday was a stunningly beautiful autumn day. Fortunately, my partner was stable so I knew that I could leave him for a while and go for a ride on my Harley.
I saw a ride listed on my club’s ride calendar, but unfortunately, the ride was being led by someone who rides too fast for me, and I have always felt uncomfortable on his rides. I decided not to go on his ride. I don’t like feeling pressure of trying to keep up when all I want to do is sit back and have a relaxing ride.
I sent emails to some biker buddies to ask if they wanted to go for a ride with me, but all replied saying they couldn’t make it, “perhaps another time.” I understand. I’m often in the same position.
But this is weird… usually I am the one whose calendar is so chock-full, he can’t ride. This time, I have time and interest, but no others to ride with. That’s okay, I leathered up…
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You know, it’s funny how I found this location. I have a visitor who reads this blog regularly who comes from a town near this place. I looked up where that was, then found this restaurant, and decided to ride down there and see it for myself. Very nice! (Too bad I don’t know who this blog visitor is, but you live in a pretty area of our state!)


Yesterday I rode my Harley “down” to my brother’s home between the South River and the West River near Annapolis, Maryland, our home state. Great ride with bright sunshine and little traffic. I kicked the Harley up to sixth gear, engaged the cruise control, put my Chippewa Firefighter boots up on the highway pegs, sat back comfortably against my backrest, and cruised for an hour. Soon enough, I had arrived.

Readers and friends are aware that I enjoy watching skilled motorcycle riders — motorcops — compete in what is commonly called a “police rodeo.” I have had the pleasure of