Goddamn it was hot….Seventy on the interstate, clad in t-shirt, jeans and boots; the old man was still sweating his ass off. Only the hot wind blasting over the handlebars kept evaporating the sweat. The Sporty sounded good, the loud throaty growl of the straight pipes were music to a motorheads ears….The old man rode too many years on the bike with no mufflers, no windshield in all kinds of weather….Some preferred style to comfort. Besides, riding a Harley with mufflers was like fuckin’ with a rubber: it’s all good, just ain’t the same feeling….
Pulling off the highway to a stop light….Damn near sitting on the back cylinder head; no fuel tank to act as a shield against the engines heat as on the dressers….The late July heat and humidity only adding to the discomfort….Stopped for gas, really sweating now, shoulda had some water….
He arrived at the big old home, now a religious commune. What the hell am I doing here he thought….Started out as a friendly conversation with a stranger a couple weeks ago….Two wheels got the old man into the damnedest adventures. An attractive young lady met him, or was waiting? She lead him inside. Soaked in sweat from crotch to the top of his head, he must have been quite a sight, and smelled like a goat….The house was hot, but the shade was a welcome relief from the brutal sun. He couldn’t drink the offered water fast enough.
The dinner was excellent….Vegetarian but excellent….The ice water with lime was hitting the spot, slowly re hydrating….He had met the rest of the people living there, toured the place, had heard what they were about. Friendly and hard working, give up all material goods for one common goal….Except for the young lady accompanying him, this wasn’t the old mans gig….Maybe that was the psychology of it all. Thanks all around, and a very pretty smile, it was time to leave….the open road, and heat, beckoned….An invitation to think it over and come back in a couple weeks; another pretty smile….But that’s a whole ‘nother adventure….