I was just a kid when I was sitting on the back of a bike and holding on for dear life. My arms around these two wide shoulders holding on with a vice like grip. I trusted my father and I knew he would never put me in danger. I remember the sound of the engine and the wind as we broke through some kind of a sound barrier or something. The sharp turns that we didn't slow down for and for sure I was going to fall off.The sounds and the screaming of the wind were a memory I grew up with.I didn't realize it then but it was the most exhilarating memory of my life.
It all came back as I breezed through my new copy of The Biker Code. Was it the fear of getting on the bike or was it just something that I just never got around to doing?
Every page brought me closer to that memory so very long ago. Did I just see my old man on one of the bikes or was I just looking for him? Why did I run away from it? Is it not to late? My God, how I just love all of those free spirited souls on every page. Is it not too late to go back to those memories?
A great book. An emotional journey. Maybe a dream that can be lived again.