Don't say its over............

Maybe it was because the feelings were still tender and fresh.

It could've been all the other exciting stuff I had to write about while my girlfriend was waiting patiently for me to help her cook dinner.

Or perhaps I was trying to push it to the back of my mind.

Regardless, I missed something out of my blog entry about washing my bike and cleaning the spokes (and there is no double meaning to that last sentence, as bad as it may sound).

After I cleaned the bike my buddy and his girlfriend came into the garage to check out my hard work and just shoot the breeze. It was during this casual conversation that she surprised me with the fact that he had never taken her on his bike.

My Deuce is still as it was when I bought it. Admittedly it came 90% chromed, fuel injection and with an anti-theft system. But none of that biker-candy does any good to anyone who's ridden on the back of my bike with its very rider unfriendly seat and pipes that go either side of the back peg. No sissy bar, nothing. To ride on the back of my bike is to love riding or love me, which of course depends on the person.

My buddy on the other hand has a Heritage with an added traveling seat, sissy bar, upgraded pipes (louder and away from the passengers feet, for the most part), I mean he has everything to make it a touring bike for two comfortable people. But he'd never taken her out.

My Deuce (left) Buddy's Heritage (right)

My Deuce (left) Buddys Heritage (right) in key West

That sentence had no sooner left her lips and I was in my mildly surprised stage when she floored with the next utterance.

"I told him before he sells it he has to give me a ride!" Sell it?

I coughed out the question. "He wants to sell it?"

"Since he bought the boat he thinks he has too many toys and was talking about selling the bike." she answered oblivious to the faux pas bouncing around the garage.

I won't bore you with the rest of the idle chit-chat that had me politely inquisitive and my buddy slightly if not rightly, embarrassed.

You see, as I mentioned in one of my first posts, the original reason I even took the motorcycle safety course was to stop my buddy whining that riding was the only male-bonding past-time we couldn't do together. Of course I wanted to buy a bike as soon as the riding bug bit me, but it was him that made the very strong arguements for a Harley and he even directed me to my Deuce (which I will always thank him for BTW).

And now he wants to sell his bike? Don't I have to get a bunch of Harley riders and beat him up or something? Do we rip his Harley Chapter patch off the bach of his leather vest?

Should I demand back the Van Nuys Harley t-shirt I brought back from my trip to California?

What exactly do you do when you lose your biking buddy?

Happier times........