Rock-tober 02, 2018

Years ago while living in Mobile, Alabama, a guy rolled up on me as I was getting out of the 'Stang. "Duuude, that's one sweet ride! Hey, would you be willing to swap it for a Harley?" I looked him up and down to see if he was joking. Apparently, he was not. I politely declined the offer. When I told Dad about it a while later he smiled and agreed it would not have been a fair trade. Dad then disclosed to me that at his last duty station in Belle Chasse, Louisiana, he was a whisker away from buying an old bike from a coworker and bringing it home to restore. The revelation floored me. I knew Dad to be a pretty straight-laced car guy who also loved fishing and puttering around in his garden. I now had mental images of him wrenching on an old Harley, strapping on gypsy leathers, putting Mom on the Queen seat, and cruising the open road.

I get it. On a bike, nothing separates you from the sun, sky, and wide open vistas. An endless ribbon of asphalt rushes towards you and gradually recedes into the memory of the miles you've covered. The wind whips past your body, and the steady rumble of American horsepower reverberates into your very soul. Cruising on a bike definitely has an allure. I know bikers who head out on three or four-hour rides, hang at the destination for a bite and a beer, and nonchalantly saddle up and head back home. It's not always about reaching a destination, sometimes it's the journey.

Back in 2008, the country was in turmoil financially as Wall Street bankers did a bang up job of decimating the dreams and portfolios of millions of Americans. Unemployment, foreclosures, and bankruptcies were spiking, and fear of the future permeated a lot of Americans to their core. In the midst of it, Harley Davidson launched an ad campaign.

A full-page ad in USA Today read:

We don't do fear. Over the last 105 years in the saddle, we've seen wars, conflicts, depression, recession, resistance, and revolutions. We've watched a thousand hand-wringing pundits disappear in our rearview mirror. But every time, this country has  come out stronger than before. Because chrome and asphalt put distance between you and whatever the world can throw at you. Freedom and wind outlast hard times, and the rumble of an engine drowns out all the spin on the evening news. If 105 years have proved one thing, it's that fear sucks and it doesn't last long. So screw it, let's ride.

 Awesome.

Poison, my favorite 80's hairband, mirrored a lot of these sentiments in their 1991 single, "Ride the Wind". It may have only peaked at #38 on the Billboard Hot 100, but its lyrics accurately capture my perception of the biker lifestyle - "Ride the wind, never coming back until I touch the midnight sun." If Dad had brought that old bike home, who knows what different roads I would have traveled.