April 19th – 21st, 2012.

Over the past year and a half, 2 major trips of 1000miles+ each and a few 500 to 600-mile riding days have brought me immense wonderment and appreciation for the world and people around me, as my journey of discovery continues to unfold.

If you have read my journal titled “A Big Adventure”, you will know that this trip back to the far reaches of West Texas came about as a commitment we made to each other as a group of friends, to return to the Big Bend National Park. This was due to time constraints we faced during that prior visit.

So here we are!
I can see myself writing less prose and producing videos help tell a greater part of the story and possibly convey and share my experiences. As long as folks like you wish to and continue to read my logs, I shall endeavor to compose and make them available.

Day 1.
April 19th, 2012

My eldest daughter turns 28 today.
Thoughts of her dominated my mind. She was 12000 miles (19,200 km) away in Ghana. I wished her many happy and healthy returns of the day.
So yup, similar routine.
Meet at Rudy’s, kickstands up this time though was at 6:00 a.m..
Ride position and assignments, road signals, reminders and a prayer and we were off.
Off on another adventure of a lifetime.
We thought we knew what pleasure was in store for us based on our prior experience to this part of the country. Well, to a great extent we did but that paled in comparison to what we were about to experience in the coming days.
We were on familiar roads. I-37to Pleasanton, TX-16 on through Jourdanton, TX-173 to Hondo, aaaaah Hondo ……………….
We uncharacteristically broke formation coming into Honda.
Teri had had the scare of her life as she negotiated the left turn off TX-173 which brought us into Hondo.
Her front tire had gone flat and she almost “lost it”, taking the turn. Pulling up at the Valley Mart gas station on the corner of interstate 90 and highway 173 and upon closer inspection, we found out luckily, that it was a loose schroeder valve core in the stem that caused her to have lost air in that tire.
This was quickly remedied. We had a full compliment of roadside engineers on hand! Last year “it was Terry”. This year, so far, it is “Teri” (I’m referring to tire issues). Is this something to do with “T’s”?
Repair work accomplished, we all took the opportunity to take a rehydration, potty and fuel top up break and then pushed on for the next stage of the journey.
This was now all familiar territory so stopping to take in the sights was not a priority. The previous trip took care of that.
So we pushed on towards Alpine, TX. Our home-base to be for this trip.

The day was shaping up to be very nice - weather-wise.
The sun was now high in the clear Texan sky with temperatures climbing characteristically rapidly.
I had already shed one layer of clothing that I had donned to shield me from the cold and damp of the early country-side morning.
We motored on like true road warriors going about our business. The road was straight. It cut through the west Texas countryside with great efficiency.
By the time we arrived in Alpine, Texas – base camp – I had clocked 490 miles on the odometer. We had been on the road for 10.5 hours today counting our stops, which were mostly dictated by our thirst.
Riding through this Texan desert wilderness made for a relatively uneventful journey.
The day had been hot and dry. The lack of rain in Texas made for a parched, dry landscape. Crossing the Pecos River, we couldn’t help but notice that the water level was so low, exposing a sandbar at the mouth of the opening to the Rio Grande.
Talk about looking shallow!
Despite these minor not so pleasing conditions and sights, the journey for me, was still fraught with the anticipation of excitement.
Pulling into the parking lot of the Best Western Hotel in Alpine, it was to our dismay when William noticed an unusually soft rear tire on Terry “McGyver’s” bike.
Oh no!
We began to re-live his episode from last year’s ride.
This was his new Metzler ME 880 Marathon tire. What’s up?
Upon close inspection he found that he had “picked up” a nail. But, no fear!
Armed with repair kit on hand, he proceeded to carry out a successful repair job. Whew!
What is this? The two T’s? Teri, now Terry. Tire problems. Hmm! Smacks of some sort of a conspiracy huh?
All jokes aside, we were relieved. It could have been worse.

We met Ed Johnson right here in the parking lot. (He and Tony are workmates of the USPS.) Another gentleman in every essence of the word.
If you’ve ever met someone for the first time and felt like you had known him or her for a long time, Ed is one of those.
He had ridden four hours from Lubbock, Texas where he lived, to join us for this ride. He was such great company.
He blended in with our group seamlessly.
After unpacking, we strolled across the street to Pizza Hut for dinner and almost immediately, the jokes began.
It made for a very short evening.
We had to be up early. We were going into the Big Bend National Park. A distance of 116 miles to the Chisos Basin. So with phone calls to my wife and other kids made for the night, it was time to turn in for some “ZZZ’s”.
I prayed the lord my soul to take, were I to die before “I would wake”.

Day 2.
April 20th, 2012

I awoke to another pleasant Alpine morning.
I sauntered outdoors to check and prepare for the days’ ride ahead of me
The air was fresh, cool and crisp. The warm rays of the sun began to filter through with the promise of a bright and hot day ahead. It was comfortable.
The possible promise of a day and conditions like this, are the stuff of a motorcyclists dream.
The backdrop of the mountains in the not so far distance complimented the lovely view I was taking in that pleased my senses to a great extent. Great enough to make my heart and soul smile with energy - and it showed..
Most of my group of friends, actually, all but me, were already in the breakfast area of the hotel, getting their morning “caffeine fix” of multiple cups of coffee.
All being well with the bike, I spent a couple of minutes to clean all the “bug-splatter” from my windshield and went back indoors for a quick breakfast.
Not being a big coffee drinker, 1 cup is all I had.
1 cup is all I needed.
I used it to chase down the continental breakfast, which was in itself, very nice.
So with all checks and preparations made for the days’ trip, we gathered around our bikes, bowed our heads in prayer and set off for The Big Bend National Park.
We headed downtown to a Valero corner store which Tony had picked out prior to our departure for us all to fuel up our iron horses. It gave us the chance to see a little bit more of the town of Alpine.
Pretty much like a lot of other cities it consisted of a main street, the main drag way, with businesses and residences flowing outwards from it with the usual gamut of convenience stores, public library, churches, eateries, fire department beer gardens, saloons and the like.

We then set off into the already heating up West Texas morning.
A few side streets we traversed brought us to the intersection of TX118 which then pointed us due south directly towards the entrance of the Big Bend National Park.
the road quality was exceptional.
As we did last year, we stopped again at the Cow Head Ranch to visit with the proprietors, who incidentally, remembered us fondly.
Well I was not too surprised about that.
Living out here in the middle of nowhere, there’s a very good chance that you’d remember the few people (relatively speaking) passing through. How many visitors would one really get?
I’d have no difficulty remembering people like us who come through.
They had made quite a few additions to the property, giving it an additional touch and taste of a true western desert ranch/corral.
an “out-house, a saloon with some posters depicting life of the days back then, some wanted posters of bad boys of the times, a wagon full of hay being drawn by a farmhand and without failing to mention, a big mound of dirt atop which sat an effigy of a cowboy on a chair with an arrow sticking out of him.
We took a walk around and reminisced with them, petted all the farm animals again, made a contribution to assist their efforts and continued our journey southwards.
The landscape along the way was still a worldly mix of Mountain ranges and desert land, interspersed with cacti and desert flora stretching all the way to the Rio Grande River that forms the boundary between us and Mexico.

Arriving at the junction of highway 170 and highway 118, we pulled into a Fina gas station for a rehydration break and fuel top up.
We met a young kid, who was simply captivated and mesmerized by our bikes - Doug’s in particular.
He only spoke french, so being the french-speaking individual in our group, I engaged him in conversation.
His dad is a brain/head injury surgeon who was here in the National Park administration, from the east coast, conducting a workshop for all the EMS first response service providers on how to “handle/respond” to brain and head injuries in the field.
I want to believe that this was in great part due to the fact that too many motorcyclists out here and one on the roads just refuse to wear helmets as a first line of personal defense in motorcycle crashes and injuries.
I introduced myself and the others to the gentleman he was with, who happened to be the Director of the Big Bend National park Service. he was occupying the young man whilst his dad was conducting the workshop/seminar.
What nicer way than to get a very personalized tour of part of the Big Bend area!
So Doug obliged him by letting him wear his safety helmet, picked him up and sat him on his bike.
I stood by, witnessed and immortalized the young man’s reaction. His eyes wide open with fascination. I could just imagine what was going on in his mind at that instant. I could see him already feeling that he was traveling at warp speed.
He then transcended to a higher cloud level when Doug “fired up” the bike engine and allowed him to gently rev up the engine. The kiddo was now in the biking zone!
His eyes gave it all away!
All too soon, the Director and us parted ways. Their time was limited. We were on holiday.
Taking advantage of our fuel and hydration stop, I gathered the group for a photo op.
And so after gathering for another prayer, we continued our journey along highway 118, due south again, towards Big Bend.
Arriving at the entrance to the …………………….. well, let me let this photo tell this part of the story.

It was a feeling of joyous accomplishment to have made it so far, knowing that I had only just touched the tip of the iceberg of what was to me, an unprecedented trip.
I truly felt that I was in the middle of nowhere!
The landscape around here is so different. To a great extent it can be described as surreal. The views are like nowhere else that I have ever seen or experienced.
The Chisos mountain range combines with the Chihuahuan Desert and the only things in sight are the mountain peaks for as far as your eyes can see, desert flora and somewhere in between, the Rio Grande.
I can easily and comfortably describe this place as “The Middle Of Nowhere”.
A long time ago, this part of the land was occupied by the Chisos Indian Tribe. The mountain ranges and the surrounding desert, take their names from them.
My throat was dry.
Humidity was low.
The sun was out hanging high in the clear sky.
I was thirsty.
I’ve always had a phobia when watching movies set in desert landscapes.
My throat and mouth get very dry, making me feel like they will lock up.
I get very thirsty and must have a bottle of water to drink within reach for the duration.
As a consequence I have tended to shy away from watching movies set in deserts.
So with photo taking formalities dispensed with I reached into my right saddlebag of the bike for a bottle of water.
But this time was different. I was enjoying being out here. The weather was pretty comfortable.
Being in the company of others as well seemed to make a difference.
It took my mind of the dry desert conditions.
I began to embrace the environment and take in the ambience.
2 mouthfuls of water. I did not require any more.
The rest of the water in the bottle went right back into the saddlebag.
We fell back into formation and headed into the park.
After all having taken care of requirements to visit the park, the Park Ranger in the entrance/welcome booth, wished us a pleasant visit. We took the opportunity to pull out into the first overlook just beyond the entrance where we gasped for several minutes with ooh’s and aah’s at the view we were presented with.
We then wound our way past the entrance gate.
Gathering at a lookout point, William briefed us on the park road trip we were about to embark on.
It was at this point in time we got to know how knowledgeable William was about the Big Bend Park/area.

For over 20 yrs. he, as a scout master, had brought the boys’ groups here every summer. He was well versed in the history and natural science of the area. So as he began to tell us about the flora and fauna, the mountain ranges and management of the park, I had every confidence and joy that we had a private “Ranger/Guide” all to ourselves for the whole day!
What a treat!
The stretch of The Rio Grande through the park, runs for about 244 miles of its 1255 mile international boundary with Mexico.
I was looking forward to the chance of seeing and experiencing it for myself from this area.
So with William leading the way, we followed on immaculately maintained roads at a legal speed limit of 45m.p.h.
He led us around to see some of the iconic spots/views of the park like “The Mule’s Ears”. This is a formation of 2 mountains which when viewed from the strategically constructed pull-out/look-out/observation area, shows a profile of : yes you guessed it, a mule’s ears!
At one vista, The Topol Vista, we stopped for a protracted break. From this vantage point one could see far out into the distance, looking across into part of the Mexican wilderness.

Soon, we left the vista.
The riding was very enjoyable.
The silence of the park was deafening!
I swear, in the absence of the sound of our bikes, you would hear a pin drop.
It was so serene.
Up and up we went. The ascent on the road was almost not noticeable. We were above 4000 ft. (2500 m) by now.
What gave it away to me was the pressure change I began to feel in my sensitive ears.
As we wound our way around the mountain bases, the views were stunning.
In some places, still being dwarfed by the immensity of the mountainous terrain around me, I had a feeling that if I so desired, I could just reach out my hand from the perch of my motorcycle and touch the canyon walls as I rode by.
Oh, boy. What a thrill!
A while later, we broke through the mountains felt like we had been “spilled” into a basin.
Quite literally, we had.
We had now entered the Chisos Basin.
The Chisos Basin is completely surrounded by a circle of mountains, having a single opening. This solitary opening was carved/gouged through the mountains when this basin was at one time in the past, full of water.
As the ground was uplifted by natural forces deep underground, the water began to find its way out, carving this natural path of flow for itself.
This opening is now known and referred to as “The Window”.
From within the basin, it affords the only views to the outside of the basin.
I was now truly surrounded by mountains.
Casa Grande (literally - “Big House” in Spanish), the name given to the biggest mountain in this ring formation creating the Chisos Basin, hovered over us.
Actually I think a better expression would be: It loomed over us with its immensity!
………… and true to American form, development has given presence to a visitor/tourist area/shop, attached to a restaurant, and lodging facilities to boot. Facilities which are booked years in advance.
It is truly a unique place. It is beautifully serene and the view through “The Window” is stunning!
I strolled up as close as I dared to “The Window”.
The view was jaw-droppingly amazing! As with the pictures from my camera, the views are indelibly etched into my memory.

So we made our way up to the totally glass-walled/lined restaurant and shared the pleasantries of lunch.
My time spent at the table was very little.
Camera in hand, I was strolling the patio (verandah - for those of us who speak real english) taking photos in an attempt to immortalize my experience in this beautiful location.
A post-lunch jaunt in the souvenir shop gave me the opportunity to pick up some gifts for my wife and kids as well as a couple of stickers indicating a visit to the big bend area which I proudly badged onto my bike’s windshield - a badge of honor, for having made it out to this naturally wonderful place on the face of this earth.
I was mesmerized! how could I ever forget this?
So all too soon, we began to load up and head out of the basin. William, with the rest of us in tow, pointed us due southwards in the direction of the bend of the river.
It was mountain range after mountain range after mountain range. It seemed like they were never ending. The views of the different rock formations were endless. Like us human beings, no two were identical.
The sky was clear blue. Not a cloud in sight. 3rd week of April produced temperatures in the low 70’s.
We could not have asked for better riding/outdoor conditions.
We rode at a pace that allowed me to really get to look at my surroundings. I tried to take it all in.
In a way, I wished this feeling would never end.
I had a perpetual smile on my face and in my being. Was this heaven?
We kept going and towards mid-afternoon we arrived at the southern terminus of the road where we found a visitor center and the usual gamut of a souvenir shop, an eatery, a campground and riverside park, parking lot and a gas station with 2 pumps.

All this beautifully set in the foothills of The Chihuahua Mountain Range and by the banks of the Rio Grande running by barely a couple of hundred yards away, with Mexico just across on the other bank of the river.
We all lined up to take on fuel. It had been a long trip to get here and with all the other bikes desperately in need of fuel, my ST had barely touched the half-tank mark. Even so I topped up as well, taking on just shy of 3 gallons at 7 bucks a gallon!
We did not balk at paying that price because in the whole of the Big Bend National Park area, this was 1 of only 2 gas stations available. All gas and supplies have to be trucked into this park, mandating the “high” cost of purchase/service ………………………. consider the alternative.
Without pre-preparation, that would definitely be the classic definition of stranded!
So with about 3 gallons of fuel, a small bottle of Pepsi and 25 bucks later, Ed, Teri and I were the brave ones to stroll down to the banks of the Rio Grande. I could not come this far and not explore the river bank.

So after exploring and experiencing area, and with the afternoon advancing, we prepared to make our way out of the park. We had over a hundred miles to go and did not want to be in the park after dark for safety reasons.
As we headed away the changing sunlight, as it was being filtered by the changing angle of the sun, made for some very vivid colors of the otherwise bland colors of the desert landscape.
We passed through a tunnel, bored through a mountain, which made for a thrilling couple of seconds.
Riding in formation behind Ed Johnson on his Harley, I knew for sure that he would - and he did - “rap” his throttle, with clutch engaged, amplifying and announcing the roaring sound of his engine as we passed through the tunnel together.
This was in such contrast to my super-quiet V4 ST1100 engine. I was in harmony with the serenity of the park.
With my video camera running, I made away with some more lovely footage of this section of the ride/trip, especially as we emerged from the low light condition of the tunnel into the now setting sun in the sky ahead of us.
Not too long afterwards, as the sun began to cast its long shadows, Ed, Teri and I pulled up to experience sundown in the park. With the accompanying plummeting temperatures of the desert landscape, we took the opportunity as well to don our warm weather protective garments and balaclavas and continue the early evening ride/journey towards Marathon, TX where we’d stop for dinner along the way back to Alpine,TX.
We texans are not used to these cold temperatures!

The changing colors of light as the sun’s rays got filtered through the clear and crisp feeling of the atmosphere, were testament to a photographers emphatic belief that this was truly one of the golden hours of the day.
So right at dark, we passed through the Customs and Border Patrol check point, where again, needless to mention, I was singled out and checked thoroughly. I seem to be a constant candidate for further investigation/checks overtime I pass through these CBP checkpoints.
After being cleared by CBP it was nice to see that Doug, Teri and Ed had pulled over to the side of the road and had waited very patiently for me as I spent time with the officers on duty, who by this time, had become very interested in my background and passion for traveling on a motorcycle.
After all, it’s not often they get to meet someone originating from the part of the world that I do, engaging in and having developed such a passion for this particular kind of activity/sport. This sport we call Sport Touring.
The rest of the group had gone ahead in order to find and reserve a place for dinner to accommodate us all.
Dinnertime did not pass quietly.
The enthusiasm and excitement with which our conversations and discussions of our riding day spilled over to the surrounding tables was contagious and before long we had fellow patrons of the restaurant sharing their experiences with us as well.
Some of whom were locals even offered suggestions of other nearby places for us to try to visit and experience for ourselves.
It all made for a really fun and excitement-packed day. We each had stories to tell. We each had different things to describe from all our different perspectives of what we had seen/been witness to throughout the day ……………. and speaking for myself, I was full of nothing but gratitude. Gratitude for the countless blessings of the experience of the day, gratitude for the friendship and camaraderie and most of all grateful for the life I was privileged to be living through my passion for motorcycling.
This had been a really full day of riding.





Day 3.
April 21st, 2012

With the need to cut my vacation short, I had to make my way back home this morning.
This meant that I would be making the long journey back all by myself.
I must admit that I was quite apprehensive. The thought of a really long ride of this distance by myself gave me pause.
To date, in all my riding miles, never had I made a journey of this distance by myself.
Now I was to test my riding mettle.
So immediately after breakfast and bidding my friends farewell, I re-checked the security of my luggage on the bike and headed out into the bright, early light of a typical West-Texas morning.
Cool, crisp air, clear skies, sun just beginning to rise over the horizon, no breeze and temperatures in the low 40’s ‘F (single digits, ‘C).
Pulled into the Valero gas station next door at the intersection of E. Holland Ave. and Church Rd. and took on a full tank of gas for first leg of the long lonesome journey back home to Corpus Christi.
I suited up with what warm garments I brought along, making sure to dress in layers. I learned this from experiences of the previous trip/visit/tour.
As the day would heat up, it would be far more convenient to strip layers of clothing at a time in order to accommodate the slowly changing conditions, versus having to change ones’ full riding attire each time the need would arise.
My plan was to keep it simple.
These were my pre-GPS days and so without wanting to add to my distraction by constantly reading a map for guidance, interstate 90 all the way to San Antonio was my choice of route.
It was a long and not so exciting journey, but it gave me a first hand taste of what it was really like to be a “Long Rider”. I created several opportunities for photography. The highway was a “straight shot”. The weather on this day was relatively warm - typical of Texas at this time of year - cool mornings, hot days.
I rode for miles. I kept stopping for photos. I kept checking my ride statistics, time versus distance to destination, fuel consumption, luggage security and most of all was constantly assessing my physical condition/well being.
All good, except that I was not making “good time”.
By the time I began to realize this, fatigue started setting in.
The highway ride was becoming very monotonous.
Texas, because of it’s size, presents extremely long distances of nothing but straight highways. Highways that run straight to the vanishing point of view.
Very challenging and gives the impression that you are getting nowhere!
By 2 p.m. it was necessary for me to get some rest/sleep. I could almost not keep my eyes open.
The fatigue from a full day of riding in the Big Bend National Park yesterday, was beginning to tell on me. I had to find a place to pull up and stretch my feet. I had been on the bike now for a little over 6 hours.
In my estimation, I was about 5 to 6 hours from home - as the crow flies!
Not good enough. By all this time on the road I felt I should have been so much closer to home with respect to time.
So as I began to ponder this situation, I found a pull over spot with a little park and few amenities and decided to use it to stop and rest.
As I downed a Pepsi and nutri-bar, I began to realize that I was gauging my ride by time and this altered my mindset, making my mind tell me that I was not being “efficient” on my journey.
I wanted to make good time and get to my destination much quicker than my actual progress. this was not as fun as I had imagined.
As I mulled these thoughts and tried to rationalize and put the trip into perspective, I must have fallen asleep.
It was not a deep sleep either, nor was it a long one, ’cos I remember very clearly, constantly being aware of myself being so exposed and vulnerable to whatever surprises might have presented themselves to me out in the open.
It was a horrible sleep/rest period, although physically much needed.
So awake now and with new resolve, I figured that if I was to make it home in good time, I would have to not “dilly-dally” along the way.
I attacked the next stage of the journey with great determination to make changes to my thought and decision making process.
I became more focussed.
I had more purpose and determination.
This point in my riding career/life was to be a defining point in how I would approach and alter the whole process towards preparing for, planning and executing my approach toward future trips.
This trip in particular, showed me that it required both a different mental and physical approach and readiness for a trip, in order to stave off a lot of negative apprehension and disappointment which only leads to discouragement on and for a trip.
In other words, not making you want to turn round and go back home halfway through a trip when things are not going exactly as you want or expect them to when one is 1000 miles (1600 km) from home with still 1000 miles (1600 km) to go to your destination.
I was physically exhausted when I arrived in San Antonio, TX. but had to muster my senses and stay sharp.
Navigating a big city such as San Antonio demands full attention.
Attention to not only what is around you, but also behind you!
Having lived and worked in San Antonio during the mid 90’s I pretty well knew my way round the city highway system.
This fact and experience helped a lot.
I made it through the city safely and was soon at the southern edge of the city after cutting right through the city center - shortest way, of course!
Driving past the Alamo Dome always brings me good memories.
(My time as a computer service representative for a company in the building management, HVAC, lighting, fire protection and energy control systems, found me working on a team that prepared and commissioned the dome.)
The road from there to Corpus Christi, TX. is pretty much a straight shot and now I could feel home within “striking distance”.
Having plied this route so many times in the past, I knew that all things being equal I could be home in a n hour and three quarters.
60 miles from Corpus Christi, in Beeville, TX. one more hour to go ……………….. I pulled into the Shell gas station right alongside the highway for a potty break and re-hydration for both me and the bike. I had Pepsi, the bike had premium unleaded even though it did not require it since my last fill up. There was more than enough to get me home.
I pulled up in the driveway at home just before 6 in the evening.
This had been a 1286 mi (2058 km) round trip for me.
I garnered some very valuable lessons along the way.
I came away with a lot of information that added to a presently scant but steadily increasing trove of experiences.
I began assessing what and how I would do things differently in my approach to my next trip’s preparation.
Needless to mention, although tired from the trip, I was excited and ready to plan and embark on my next journey utilizing the experiences I gained from this one.
I realized that I enjoyed “my own company”.
I realized how much I had cherished being on my own with respect to making decisions on when to stop, how long to stop for and more importantly, the need to make more frequent but regimented stops for breaks to allow me to fight off fatigue from monotony.
Besides this though, enjoying the sights and views of a seemingly empty surrounding, I could find a lot to look at and see if I took the time to.
Even solitude has a lot to offer.
It offered my mind and soul a certain kind of peace and quiet that I cannot remember ever experiencing anywhere.
A lot of “quiet time”. Quiet time to think and find enjoyment in “the now”. Time to find solutions or wrap one’s mind around issues that one doesn’t make the time to as often as could be the case.
I learned a lot.
I learned that I had a lot to learn and gain whilst indulging in and enjoying something I have been so passionate about in all my years.
It was good “me time”. I wanted to share this feeling with everyone I knew. To encourage them to experience the joy and freedom of spirit that I did. It almost felt surreal. I could literally feel myself trembling with excitement and anticipation.
Through all the fatigue of the day though, I know that I finally went to bed and fell asleep with a big smile on my face and in my heart that night, because when I awoke the next morning and sauntered into the bathroom, I looked in the mirror as I usually do each day and that smile was unmistakably present!
So a few days later, back home with this journey ended in my life’s story book, I sent a copy of the photo of our “young french friend” to him, ℅ the Big Bend National Park Director and included a letter of thanks to the director for the visiting tips and little history of the Big Bend National Park, that he shared with us.
As time has gone by, I often think of the young kid, my thoughts are greeted with a big smile in my heart and my memory races back to that day in August 1964 when my dad first put me to stand on that bike for my first ever ride.