Wa-hoo! A New Motorcycle!

(the one on the left is the 1994, the one on the right is the 2008)

Yesterday Joe and I owned a 1994 red Gold Wing with matching trailer. And today we own a 1994 red Gold Wing with matching trailer and a 2008 red Gold Wing (no matching trailer, yet!).  Since the 1994 motorcycle is really decked out, we just couldn’t quite part with it yet.  I hope in the Spring we will be less sentimental. 

We also have a red truck, a red car and a red convertible. Are you sensing a pattern here? RED is apparently the color we like in our transportation vehicles. The RV must feel as if it is adopted because it is white. Can you believe two people can have so many vehicles?? Joe and I figure we are helping the U. S. Economy out when we make purchases (not to mention our insurance man). The RV is our only “gas guzzler” but I figure what the RV uses in gas, we are saving the world in use of electric and water from washing towels and sheets at a hotel!

There is quite a bit of teasing between Harley Davidson and Gold Wing owners but I really think deep down we all feel it doesn’t matter what bike you ride, as long as you love riding.  I am a co-rider and enjoy that too much to operate my own bike.  Those of you who own motorcycles know the joy of riding and how alive your senses feel, especially sight and smell. 

Below is a poem I "wrote" in my mind one day while riding with Joe.

IOWA FALL—–AHHHH!

Up and over the rise,

Your eyes skip across the patchwork fields below.

Maize fields run into russet fields run into the green of the farm yard

Where nestled in its windbreak of yellows, reds and oranges, a farm house sits

Looking as if it has survived the onslaught of many winters.

Down and around a hidden curve,

Suddenly out pops the colors of a picture perfect farm.

Red barn, white house and orange pumpkins light up the scenery.

Dust follows in the tracks of the crop eating farm machine

Down the stubbled hill spill black dots; cows content with their grazing.

In and out of the dip,

Two pheasants fly leap frog on the corn’s edge.

Whiffs of hogs, sounds of rushing wind, warmth of the sun

All assail and delight your senses.

Sight, sound, smell, touch are exhilarated.

Speed zone, slow down,

An idle, peaceful small-town Iowa Saturday.

Smiling voices direct you to the best scenic route

Friendly faces nod you out of town

The aroma of burning leaves fills your nostrils.

Ah Fall–God’s gift

Ah Fall–to restore the mind

Ah Fall–to replenish the soul

Iowa Fall–AHHHHHHH!