Saturday I was in the garage cleaning up after some yard work and getting ready to lead a ride for the Harley Owners Group that afternoon, and I started experiencing a flood of emotions when I looked at the big wall map in the garage. After the Corner To Corner trip I bought a huge 4x6 foot map of the USA and mounted and framed it for the garage near the motorcycles so I could highlight all the big trips on it and stand back and just look at it and remember. It's big enough to see the entire USA at once, and one can feel almost like God looking down from heaven at His creation as I look at it and contemplate where I've been -- but more importantly, where I might yet go.
So as I sat on my Black Dyna, the bike I rode on all those trips and contemplating the big map, I glanced down at Key West. I marveled that a month ago, this bike and I were sitting at the furthest southeast point in the US. That I and THIS VERY BIKE that I was sitting on in the garage in Seattle at that precise moment in time, were but a month and two days before sitting on that tiny little speck of an island way out in the Gulf of Mexico. I got a bit misty eyed as I realized that she and I had ridden that big long squiggly pink line that I'd traced on the map all the way up through Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, North Carolina, Kentucky, Virginia, Tennessee, West Virginia, Ohio, Indiana, Michigan, over the Mackinaw Strait, Wisconsin, Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Idaho and Washington. I realized what exactly what it is we'd accomplished, the old girl and I. And she was still just as ready to hit the road again as I was. All I had to do was throw a leg over her seat and hit the starter button and she'd roar to life and down the road we'd go.