November 06, 2017

I can remember the first time I took my Harley out on the highway like it was yesterday.

The wind whipping by, as I cranked the throttle. The rumble of the engine, coupled with the throatiness of the pipes, vibrating through every cell of my body. The sturdiness of the mountains to my left, and fluidity of the ocean to my right, were the perfect image of what it as like to be in control of this beast.

My red leather boots dropped me into gear and I settled in, feeling powerful and nearly invincible. No longer was I a passenger, taking the rear seat. No, this time I was in charge. I was the leader, and how empowering that was is nearly indescribable.

I screamed.

I hollered.

I couldn't contain that excitement of achievement. To have wanted this for years. To have overcome any fears I might have had. To throw my leg over the leather seat, straddle the steel beast with confidence for the first time, I felt like a conqueror.

That first ride was proof to myself that I could do anything.


Crab Terror Island

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