I have wrote some day stories about Vegas, I spent a month there..Lot's of miles and smiles..damn wish they had Blackberry's back then. Nothing really worked so let me tell you how the Vegas trip came to be and a little bit about the Rat..
My mother had passed away a year before the trip happened. She was my best friend, the bottom line. I still feel today in many ways she was the one person who understood how I could be in a crowd yet still alone. That at sixteen I preferred riding over hanging out with the crowd..She died from complications of a botched surgery Thanksgiving day 1981..at the age of forty..
The hospital admitted guilt and wrote a check, I put mine away and had not touched until I laid eyes on the FXST..It was the first thing I knew she would be happy about if I bought it..In doing so I knew it was past the time to move on..I had got laid off a few days before and I was worn down from the gloom of the fog..no sunshine in your life is hard to do with out..I needed a road trip and time to clear my head..I was drinking and drugging far to much and taking chances that I would normally avoid,,well sometimes..Even today I still wind it up a little tighter than I should..it's freedom..Hey I rode a wheelie about a half mile on a sporty today..why you ask..because I could..
That's how Vegas started, I rode everyday I was there. I rode to Flagstaff in the snow, I rode to Hoover Damn four or five times..it is still a site today that amazes me, I went to Pahrump..I rode 95 north..I put the past behind me in fourth gear with the wind in my face..I made choices and have spent many years trying to live by them..some I did and some were pipedreams. Some took time to understand while others were clear..It's life, I stopped trying to figure it out, you can't..When in doubt I ride..
So that's how Vegas came to be..I spent some time trying to be what I wasn't to make others happy..I learned from it and slowly got back to where I needed to be..Here..riding. ratting and living..Sharing with those who understand..It took some help and some time..Thanks Tat for your support and understanding..the little push to do what I enjoy..thanks to all who read and enjoy..
Rat
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7 comments:
we understand. and bikers or not, we all have a story. thank you rat. i think you're meant to tell your road stories to the world...i know i dig hearing them. its been a pleasure and a honor to watch this/you grow. ride and tell rat, ride and tell.
Damn I knew I was doing something wrong I was doing ride,write, ride, write..:)..Thank you..
I'm with mq01...Ride and Tell! You are the guys that I just love! I could sit and listen to you guys talk all day long about your adventures on 2 wheels! You are what I call with much affection...ODBs or Old Dirty Bikers....and trust me it's a great thing!!!! Thanks for sharing your story...very touching and honestly I do understand.
lol...im with iowa HG, it is a great thing. and thats funny, ive always said DOBs, dirty old bikers, hahaha...same thang... :)
There hasn't been many times over the years when a instant recognition of "brother" has occured.
Those who know me will tell you this is a word I use very seldom in context to another.
All that I have called 'brother or 'sis'....still remain so.
From this short piece of your history and the understanding it provided.
This is one of of those times.
Big D Caveman
B.A.C.A Member
Maricopa AZ
I'm very touched by your story. I'm very sorry your Mom died so young. No check could have been enough to erase their tragic mistake, but you did her memory proud by waiting, and doing with it what you know would have made her happy.
Word veri: "motoma" isn't that ironic?
Dirty Old Biker is a term of endearment here..wanna piss me off call me sir..Big Daddy..thank you my friend and I comend you for the fine work you BACA do..keep it up brother..LadyR..Thanks..
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