Mumbling something about slipping on the ice, I mounted the big cruiser. The clerk glanced down at the pavement and my eyes followed. It was clean and dry. Crud. It was time for some rest. I rounded on the clerk. "Breakfast! Where's breakfast " That was about as articulate as I could get at the moment. He got my meaning. "Two blocks down. A diner. Best place around. You can't miss it." Shaking with fatigue and bone weary, I had a rather annoying vision of me crashing my Valkyrie right through the front door of the place. Can't miss it I shuddered. "Yah, I'm more than a little worried about that." From a summer run across the almost mythical Route 66, to tragedy and trials in the cold, forbidding winter mountains of the west, to high-speed jaunts though the storm-swept canyons of a city commute, ride with the author as he narrates a series of fantastic adventures with passion and humor. Find out why, It's About the Ride. Life is a road. Live. Ride. See. Fly. Are you ready
