Thanks to all of you. Losing a friend makes you wonder how you affected their life. Dick was a great guy, but I know now that I could have made more of a spiritual impact on his life. Many times, we'd stop for a beer and I'd leave after one. Don't know how many he'd have after I'd take off.
Just knowing that he died at 59 years old, made me realize that 1) he was too young, and 2)none of us are promised anything past our next breath.
Leonard,
The hundred times I must have passed the "Tehachapi" sign on I-5, I never got off. I wish I'd have experienced that area, but it was always after a recent gas stop. I rode with a couple wild outlaw groups in California, but the lifestyle would have killed me if I'd stayed with it. I promised myself back then to never fly colors. Even though I am slightly active in the CMA, I still don't wear their colors - but for a different reason. If I smoke a cigarette, exceed the speed limit, or drink a beer, I will be judged by unbelievers and become a stumblong block to them. I am a lone wolf rider, but love company. I don't have stickers on my helmet or patches on my leather - stickers cost gas money and the stitches make leather leak water.
I usually ride alone (most times with my bride) but I always welcome another rider, no matter what they ride. Scooters welcome. Dick Hyde (peterskin, to us pipefitters) was the same way. He loved his shovelhead, but secretly wanted my old Bonneville for his own. He just couldn't admit it.
