From The Mind of Hello My Happy

It seems the club has had its fill with sportsters and baggers. American made and even some metrics, we have just about seen them all. My dream bike has always been a Sucker Punch Sally but me dropping that kind of paper on a two wheels...that’s not going to happen no time soon. I’m also not the guy I was when that bike seemed to be the top of the food chain in my book. I’m 46 years old and years of walking on concrete for well over 25 plus years have finally worn down some bones. I’m not saying I’m dead or an old goat, but riding comfortable has made me mighty spoiled on that Electra Glide. Sure, if I hit the lottery and had money to burn I would absolutely go and buy me a Sucker punch! There’s just something to love about a bare bone motorcycle. Big motor, slim frame and stretched out front end. Yes sir! That’s just sexy to me! Hell, I can see it all in my head now.

Big Ed aka 2Timer

I was at work the other day and a buddy of mine wanted to see some pictures of the motorcycles that some of my brothers ride in the club. I don’t keep too much on my phone but I decided to go into my Google account and search in the files of pictures I’ve taken over the years. As I was scrolling through the countless amount of pictures. I couldn’t help but let my mind fall back in time. It’s been over 10 years since I joined the club and even though I am not a big fan of Google I can honestly say, it’s nice to be able to look back at my long history with the club....the rides we’ve been on and the parties that we have attended. Oh trust me, it’s not stopped yet! This club is still a baby in years when you compare it to clubs that started after WW2 and stuff, but still, ten years is still quite a bit of time.

A little leather bed roll on the front handlebars filled with everything to explore your mind and tap into the spirit world. A pocket full of cash and tank full of gas. Reach my finger to the tips in a pair of old worn leather gloves and adjust my shades to the rays of the morning sun. Twist that throttle a few times and kick start that bare bone sled ‘til she rumbles. Reach my arms to the sky as I grip those apes and twist that throttle back ‘til all that’s behind me is my past. No care for cautions or speed limits signs. Just ride from NC until I see the painted desert of Arizona. Yelp that’s where I want to go. It’s always been a dream of mine to ride that desert and burn some fuel on those hot two lane roads. Yea, that was a dream of mine, but lets face it. Dreams are just that, dreams. I say that because I live in a real world. The real world is not some fairy tale. The real world comes with lack of funds, lack of time, and others roads open up and you take detours. Its just life. You find a woman and you fall in love and your biker dreams end up finding themselves on the back burner. That’s reality. That barebone two wheel death machine just transformed into a mini van and 50+ hrs a week at a job. I’m not saying that like a buzz kill. There’s nothing wrong with being young, wild and picturing yourself doing young and wild shit! Nothing wrong with it! I’m just saying, its like that phrase I hear all the time. It goes something like this...“If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans for the future.” ...seriously.

I don’t have that same dream anymore. I look at real world shit now. I see a long trip like that of going from here to AZ. Like screw that! I want to hang out with my wife and kids. Hey! I’m a Daddy and that’s where my dreams are now. I want to build a life so my kids have great memories of their Daddy being the best Daddy they could ever have. I want my wife to look back and not regret giving this old asshole the best years of her life. This is my dream now, but I am still a biker. I still love what I love. I love to ride. I love my club. I still love making rides with my club.