When I was young and knew more than I do today, I rode a motorcycle full-time. Then I got lazy and bought a car. It has all been downhill since then. But in a remarkable Christmas miracle I had the opportunity to take an 850 cc bike for a ride on a 70 degree, sunny, warm morning. Yes, while the rest of the country were in church worshipping their redeemer's birth, I got the motor running, head out on the highway, looking for adventure, in whatever comes my way...oops, slipped into an old Steppenwolf song there, excuse me. I found no adventure outside myself. Instead I summoned up sweet memories of 2 wheel freedom. Feeling that wind pushing at me, noting the changing road surfaces, leaning into the turns. Being part of the life around me instead of shut inside a conveyance. I did wear a helmet. Not that it would save much if my noggin hit pavement. And due to my recent inexperience I kept the speed below 75 MPH. Oops, was I supposed to drive this borrowed bike slower? Well, it was all in fun for the holidays. Apparently I have lived to tell about it.