There were those who might have bet against me lasting this long and I would be one of them. As a friend told me once, long ago, after we stopped for a break during a brisk ride through canyon roads north of Los Angeles "I thought you were dead at least three times back here." What I often lacked in caution I made up for with luck or a fleet of guardian angels.
Now, consider for a moment this lovely 1951 Harley Hydra-Glide:
"SLEEK, smooth and beautiful. And what a performer. Takes off like a scared rabbit. Snuggles to the road like a clinging vine. Breezes over hills like a bird. Whisks you over rough spots with cloud-like ease … brings you thrill after thrill as you take in exciting race meets, hillclimbs, gypsy tours, sightseeing runs and other exclusive motorcycling fun events. You’ve never really been places and seen things until you’ve ridden this dazzler! Every moment in the saddle is fascinating. Every trip brings new adventures and new companionships."
And if it was true about the old '51 Harley, it was and remains just as true about me. Trust me.
Anyway, I have to go. I'll be up early to ride down to the coffee shop to get the senior citizen special for breakfast and tonight it's home to watch either "Wheel of Fortune" or the Isle of Man TT races. You guess.