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Page 3 of 20 The entire group started to become one unit - when we passed our first slow-moving vehicle, we did it in one fluid motion. (Of course, no one on the trip will remember that the truck we passed was owned and operated by Hostess Cupcakes. Not a very macho image for "road warriors".) As we made our way across Texas into the Panhandle, I sensed a transformation in my husband and myself. We began to swagger a bit at every gas stop; we adopted an attitude of being "cool". The clothes helped - all black, with wrap sunglasses and bandannas tied on our heads and around our necks. The best part was when fourteen big V-Twin engines started at once, and made that distinctive "Harley" sound as we pulled out of gas stations. People always looked and smiled - what a sight! Another thing I noticed was the reaction we received from other motorists on the highway. Adults would glance over and then not look at us directly again, but you could tell they were watching us from the corner of their eyes. Whether it was an attitude of disapproval or non-interest, I could never tell. But the kids were a different story - they unabashedly admired us, the motorcycles and the entire spectacle. We received many enthusiastic waves and bright smiles, while our tires ate up the miles. Our world shrank to a narrow, long, vibrating machine, but our souls opened like a budding flower turned toward the sun. We were constantly chasing the next horizon, waiting with anticipation for the wonders that appeared in front of us, above us - even right next to us. One of the games we played on the Harley took me straight back to family vacations in the yellow Vista Cruiser (if you fail to recognize this particular General Motors product, then you definitely did not grow up in the late 1960s).
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