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Page 5 of 20 Even in the summer, the temperature drops overnight in the Texas Panhandle. Harleys are known to be "cold natured" - it takes them a long time to warm up (kind of like me at 6:00 a.m.). The early morning ritual was to start all thirteen motorcycles (except for the one BMW) with full choke, and leave them running for more than five minutes. I am certain there were many people in that hotel who awakened earlier than expected that morning! Once the engines reached a steady "Potato, Potato" rumble, the chokes were pushed in and we were off! Fort Collins, Colorado was our destination, only 480 miles and five gas stops away. Our reward for getting up so early soon became apparent After about thirty minutes of riding in total darkness, glowing colors slowly appeared to our right. Just as our headlights pierced the black curtain of darkness, the first rays of the sun pierced the horizon. Streaks of color were painted across that vast stretch of canvas sky, with breathtaking effect. The sunrise touched all of us; it pierced our slumbering souls and united us in a bond of glorious color. We stopped to take pictures, but man's camera lens does not even come close to recreating that majesty. Every one spoke in hushed tones, sharing the moment. And then we rode on into the unexpected. The sunrise had lulled us into a trance - we forgot that the darkness hid some extremely bland and brown terrain. It was as if God was trying to make up for the nondescript landscape by giving us a spectacular light show. Soon the sun became harsh and our skin began to burn, just as the landscape around us blistered in the heat. We passed miles and miles of open land - vast stretches that dulled our senses with endless monotony.
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