Yesterday, after work, the kids and I went back to the Harley dealership to pick up the Sportster. Dave, who was in my motorcycle class, just happened to be the person who got the bike ready for pick up. He made it shine. I apologize for the photos. I have no picture taking talent.
After supper, while the kids were getting ready for bed, I took her out for a quick spin through my neighbourhood. She is so much more responsive in the lower gears and much, much lighter than big boy. Two hundred pounds makes all of the difference. I am so much more confident riding this bike. Little girl has come home!
And now, I've officially become one of THOSE people who talk about their motorized vehicles like they live and breathe. But they do, don't they? I haven't named her... yet (does "Little Girl" count?), so I suppose my metamorphosis into a total motorhead is not fully realized.
The kids are with their dad this weekend. Guess what I'm going to be doing?
Live to ride, baby.
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