When Cliff's youngest sister and her husband lived only a few miles away, we went on lots of motorcycle rides together. Then they moved to St. Louis, and left us with no riding buddies. Our mailman, Floyd, has a Gold Wing, and he's always saying he and his wife will come by some weekend and we'll ride together. But so far, that hasn't happened. So it's just me and Cliff on "White Lightnin'" when we ride.
Once last fall we took our motorcycle to St. Louis on a trailer and rode with Charlene and Pat. It was great fun, and we decided to go again this year, on Labor Day weekend. Only this time, we'd ride the bike all the way.
We avoid freeways when riding the motorcycle. The winds buffet us around, and the traffic moves so fast that when we're going seventy-five miles an hour, people pass us as though we're sitting still. That's OK when you're in a car with seat belts and air bags around, but on a motorcycle, it makes you feel like an organ donor on your way to save someone's life.
So we take back roads where it's possible. By necessity, though, we're forced to get on freeways at times. We grit our teeth, pray hard, and tough it out.
We met up with Charlene and Pat in Columbia, which is midway between Kansas City and St. Louis, and our weekend of enjoyment was under way!