|
Back in 1989 I had the same bike as you, a Rebel 250. St. Patrick's Day, I rode it to three different bars, at each one I swilled down pitchers of green beer. One of my memories of that evening is crawling around on my hands and knees in the parking lot trying to remember where I'd parked the bike. I actually managed to get home alive, then foolishly drove my truck back to get the helmet I'd left at the bar.
I believe God kept me alive when I used that bike as a barstool, although I'm not sure why other than he must've had a higher purpose for me. Later on that year I moved to Massachussetts and sold the bike, thankfully I had enough sense to know that I was going to kill myself if I kept drinking and riding.
Bought a new bike 2 years ago, one of my sobriety gifts to myself. I don't have to tell anyone here that there's nothing like riding clean and sober, it's a feeling that only we understand.
__________________ "Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty, and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming---*WOW-What a ride*!"
Last edited by Astro; 03-18-2009 at 05:38 PM.
|