Recently we visited the Rocky Mountain Motorcycle Museum in Colorado Springs, Colorado. What an eclectic collection of old motorcycles we found. Many of them were old Harley’s. There were old photographs and articles of motorcycle events.

I don’t have many positive memories of my father, so I was surprised at all the memories of him, this place evoked within me. I had the last ride on his Harley before he sold it when I was 3 or 4. I had forgotten about all the motorcycle hill climb events he took me to as a child. I seem to recall those events were either early in the spring or late in the fall. I remember being chilled at most of these events, and wondering why anyone would want to ride in such mud. I was a girl after all. But I also remember how excited my dad was at these events. When I think about that now, I realize he was sharing one of his passions with me. It was nice to have a memory about him, which invoked smiles and happy emotions.