I'll continue the rest of my story on my journey to the Garden State a little later.
One year ago today I was waking up in a hotel room in Danbury, CT. It was day three of my ride to Joisey. The previous day was gorgeous, sunny, warm, and I had just rode from Augusta, Maine through the White Mountains to get here. It was a beautiful scenic trip on some great roads, and I had thoroughly enjoyed my day on what was really my first touring trip on the Guzzi.
It was a helluva way to spend my birthday. Only thing better would be to share my evening supper with my friends and family.
I had just toasted my 47th year of life with a couple of Sam Adams and retired to my room, the fatigue of being on the bike all day was setting in.
I did my usual brief surf around the inter web, double checked tomorrows weather, and the usual Facepage check in. That's when the euphoria of the day came to a crashing halt. Another rider friend of mine informed me of Rob Harris accident and passing.
For the past year I have struggled with motorcycle ownership. A couple of times I have put the bike up for sale, only to take the ad down a few weeks later. I even had people wanting to buy my bike, but when push came to shove I couldn't.
Rob was the first person I knew, since I was a teenager, to lose his life in a motorcycle accident. Like myself he was married with two daughters and for a long time I had issues with my own mortality and the thought of leaving my wife and girls without a husband and father.
In fact it wasn't until my first ride on the bike this spring that my love for motorcycles returned. The desire to go on road trips, and find adventure was once again filling my brain.
That first ride in April was when I got off the bike and decided that I would be riding to Jersey for sim training instead of taking a airline seat.
Rob loved life, loved all things two wheeled and there is no way of knowing when your time is up. So may as well enjoy the things that make you happy.