Traveling America By Motorcycle

America is easy to cross, with its vast system of highways. Motorcycles are fun vehicles, and seeing some of the countries on one is truly an experience to remember. You can even camp along the way, stopping at places like Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon. Some of the best scenery in the US can be accessed on motorways. There are some excellent locations right in your backyard. Brian coach museum in Blue Ridge, Georgia is a nice place to visit, as is the documentaries on television about the battle of WWII. There are places where you can see some of the oldest buildings and the most historic grounds in the country.

Although motorcycle riding is grown up and expensive, there are still many riders who started out with a motorbike as a young child. They are some of the few who can still proudly call themselves the heritage of America. These started as a way to soothe passions and spend time with friends out in the garage. As a young boy, my father, a mechanic, liked to fix up old motorcycles to sell. I, however, was not aware of this fact until I was about to turn 12 and my uncle bought a motorcycle of my size.

I loved riding that motorcycle as much as I loved my uncle’s old motorcycle. In fact, it was the perfect on and off road vehicle. It could take me anywhere, with the weight and speed necessary to get to where I wanted to go. I would ride it daily and uncles all thought I would ride like a little horse.

It was not until after high school that I discovered penmanship and wrote this poem about the sensual feel of riding a motorcycle:


Aspen trees lined meadows

And ever since then I ride

With E much gusto.

My heart is full of song

And I know I’ll stay a while

On my hired PAL since you

Made it possible.

While you ride slow and boring

Through the meadows I roam

I’ll try to sing you to sleep.


So did you ever ride a bike

While you were a kid?

When you were about ten?

Well, I guess you know, I was

A smart cookie, I took after my uncles quite a bit.

While they were busy makin’

A fortune they never said a word to me.

I would ride and ride until

The soreness would start.

They would say, “Hush up boy.

Stop whining and get on to it.”

I tried. but they were yellin’

To shut me up and I just could not get

The mouth of that old motorcycle shop owner.

The wool over my head and apron in hand

And I finally made a bid.

I lost. But, I won’t forget the

Tooth to tickle, the feel of your breath on my cheek

As I kissed you goodnight.

That’s what I call waking up with the sun

Is the morning kite.

And the smile that adorned his face as he gave me a

Whale of a name.

I say, “What is love without a melody?”

And, I know now, I won’t get no.

I’ll be drinking more water than the time we met

By the time I roll out of the motorhome

I want to climb fast enough to get out of the

Pentagon and catch a shower.

I roll out of the motorhome with

The rest of the Navajo gear.

I wear the same black Ninja

Appearing in the same Records of Stress

That couple bought for couples

Love and happiness are just part

Of nature and life.

And, I know now, that even without you

The canoe will still be even more rough then

And roll in the river faster then

Even if I miss the boat so much.

So do what you will, you’ll always live that way

In either a boat or a canoe.

I don’t know which is better,

And if you will answer this question,

I’ll go backpacking.