Rolling with the Homies
I work with awesome people.
Dilon, Alan, and Geoff are also motorcycle enthusiasts, all-around good dudes, and tolerant of....me. We make a pretty good gang.
Last week, the four of us saddled up between morning and evening band rehearsals to blast around OKC on our motorcycles. We met up at 7-Eleven to fuel up before heading north to Pops, out on Historic Route 66.
Geoff was sitting on his bike....so I took a couple of shots. (And when did my eyes turn that color??)
Taking group selfies....with a helmet on....when it's sunny....is tricker than I thought.
The funny thing about Pops is that it is technically just a gas station...and cafe. What makes Pops so cool and unique...is everything else! They boast over 700 varieties of sodas from all over the world. I didn't stand and count, but I believe it. The restaurant is supposed to be scrumptious, though I've not eaten there myself. On any given weekend, the ample-sized parking lot is filled with classic cars, motorcycles of all variety, and good folks milling about...taking in the sights and checking out the rides. We happened to be there mid-day, and mid-week, on a hot day....so it was starkly quiet. Not a problem though. We all made our soda selections and sat outside to have some serious philosophical conversations about life.
No...actually we just sat and made fun of each other. That's all we ever do. Ever. Someone probably told a fart joke too. They did....I remember it specifically. This is our world.
Dilon and I analyzed the drink cooler....for a while.
Pops also has some cool architecture....
....and a sweet bottle.
Typically I grab a peach Nehi when I'm at Pops. My dad used to buy them for me when I was really little. We'd bounce around the oil field in his tank truck, him shifting through gears, and me holding tightly to my drink...trying to stay put in the passenger seat. Sometimes nostalgia...is a good thing.
On this particular day, I was dragging a bit, so I opted for a bit of caffeine. Nothing crazy....just a little bump.
Left to right (above):
BMW R1150R Rockster - Byron
Harley Davidson 1200 Sportster - Geoff
Yamaha V-Star 1300 - Dilon
Harley Davidson 883 Sportster - Alan
And a sweet booty shot below...
The crew. Me, Geoff, Alan, Dilon.
Geoff is the KING of Harley Davidson shirts. I will hear no opposing arguments. Thank you.
One of the greatest things about riding a motorcycle...is the motorcycle wave. It seems mundane. As motorcyclists pass one another, you'll notice a hang of the left hand, typically down low, as the machines zip in opposite directions.
It's universal. Cruisers wave to sport bikes, who wave to euros, who wave to choppers, who wave to tourers, who wave to classics, who wave to scooters, who wave to trikes.....and the list reciprocates.
We wave because there is an understanding of what life on two wheels entails: freedom, danger, heat, cold, rain, shine, fun, and most importantly....mutual respect. I've dropped the hand....clad in full touring gear....to a shirtless sport-bike rider more than once....and received the same in return. It's just about, "Hey...you're riding, I'm riding...we're both here....it's all good."
How cool would it be if we could give the motorcycle wave to all we encounter? Race, religion, gender, poverty, orientation, disability, opportunity?
Isn't life about freedom, danger, heat, cold, rain, shine, fun....and mutual respect?
Maybe we can all drop the left hand a little more often....
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