Thunder Roads Magazine MO/So. IL 2017-September - Page 30

Time. We think it only moves forward.  This is true. For those who own not a bike. Jumping on the motorcycle I take off once again for another venture guided only by my imagination and thoughts. I travel down a definite road but with no specific destination in mind.  That is half the fun of the ride.  The other half is the joy of riding again in the open air on my Iron Horse. I am amazed anew how it travels faster than any Steed on which the Ancient Indians raced across this virgin land.  It moves just as smooth as those barebacked horses.   Time. I travel great distances on the bike.  Not measured in terms of miles but memories. As the wind clears my thoughts of the worries and cares of the day I venture back in time to places and peoples that delighted my heart. My bike instinctively follows the cues of my mind.  Turning and twisting in the direction of my thoughts.  To revisit times and places long past and deeply loved.  To remember the people and incidents that left a mark on my mind.  An impression upon my heart.  A sentimental feeling within my soul.   Time. I travel back in time to my childhood home to v 6Bf'7Bg&VG2B6V6B&VG2ऒG&fV&6FRFFRv66w&VG2V&VBWBw&WrWऒG&fV&6FRFFR6VvRw&GVFVBg&6W&6rFR7GVFW26VVBऒG&fV&6FRFFR6Rbגf'7BFFRf'7B72f'7BfRऒG&fV&6FRFFRvVFFrF6VBvFFR7B&VWFgV'&FRV'FऒG&fV&6FRFFR&V6W2R'VBF7F'Bf֖ǒB&6Rג6G&VऒG&fV&6FRFFRv&6W26W'fVBF&VvFRV'2&VV&W&rFRvBv&( fRFR6W'bЦrFW'2ऒG&fV&6FRFFRW2BVG2bג&W7B'VG2גWF&VƗ6rFR2vR6&VB@&G2vRFRऒG&fV&6FRFFR'W&6Rbג&VG2&VfV7FrFBגFv6RFFVऒG&fVf'v&BFRFFR&VƗFFBFRfW2Gvv2&Ff'v&G2B&6v&G2*vR6B7FFRfrbFRगB6'&W2W2WFW&ǒW&Wb67FB6vRBWrWW&V6W2'vr&6FRגFR6R&RFVFW'7FB&R6V&ǒB&V6FR&WGFW"F6RWЧW&V6W2FW27BFB7&VFVBגƖfR&W6VBFR6vG2vVBBWƖgFVBfVBg&FR&VV'&6W2bF6RV'2FB6WfW"&R&VƗfVB'&rVƖrBVFW'7FFrFBVF6R6WfW"ff&B*FB6V6VƖr6WfW"7W&R*FB&V 6WfW"&W7F&RF22ǒ76&RגF&76R*FR6RFBvfW2RFR&ƗGFG&fVFRFFRFW7FЧF2ג֖BFBFRF2ƖfRv'FƗfrFVFW"&G2vR#