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One of my oldest daughter's friends, when she was still young enough to be at home, told me "I wish I had a Dad like you."

This statement was made by a sixteen year old girl who was raised by a single mom. It was made without sarcasm, just a simple wistful statement of what she wished could be.

What could I say? I just hugged her and said "I wish you did, too. But if you need to borrow me, I'll be here."

Ten years later she still calls me Dad.

I have added Kim du Toit to my links just because of this essay.

I have further decided that he is among the luckiest men alive just because of his wife's attitude towards his essay. I am likewise blessed.

Thanks to Emperor Misha I for bringing this post to my attention.

Rebirth

Richard Bach wrote about the light in the toolbox in his book "One" that I read way back in high school.

He spoke of how machines have a soul, how they have a life and personality all their own. Not life as defined by scientists, but any mechanic will tell you that each machine has it's own quirks.

Richard Bach is a pilot and writer; his passion is flying. I do my flying a little closer to the ground. My passion is motorcycles.

We departed on a Sunday, the sun felt good after days of badly needed rain. The road hummed beneath her tires as she took her bearings from the rising sun and headed north.

My son and I have been riding her now for a couple of weeks, letting her stretch her legs and letting her and I get used to each other. Now it's time for us to go see the Man.

US1 north from Franklinton is a four lane highway, but where it joins with Interstate 85 in Henderson it turns back into a two-lane road that winds through the small towns. We are not in a big hurry so we take the back roads, ignoring the ease of the interstate in favor of the more challenging twists and turns of the two-lane.

Halfway between South Hill and Kenbridge VA we turn off onto Bacon Fork Road. Our journey is almost through.

We roll into the yard, the sun sparkling off her fresh coat of blue paint. He looks out the window. She shows off her new gold pinstriping for him.

"Damn", he says. "She looks great!"

She hears him.

We spend the day there, he takes his powered wheelchair for a lap around her to see her up close. We talk of days past, of rides taken and sights seen. We enjoy the day, my friend and I.

All too soon the sun starts to sink in the western sky. I turn the key and push the starter button.

We once again take the back roads home. It's a day for riding, and remembrance, something that is difficult to do on the mindless expanse of asphalt that is the interstate highway system.

The sky is purple as we arrive back at the Refuge. I leave her in her shed, along with the Harley that eyes me balefully. Lucille is jealous, but like most redheads making up with her will be the most fun.

This ride is done, but there are many more ahead.

For both of us.

Note from the Scoundrel: "This post was originally written as the third part of a triligy. Parts one and two are here. This part has been a long time coming. I thank you for your patience."

Lest We Forget

My sister has moved to Roanoke VA and will be visiting this weekend. Her daughter has the misfortune of sharing a birthday with a terrible event.

On her birthday she experienced the horror of watching, along with the rest of America, the twin towers fall in New York City. Tearfully she turned to her mom and asked "How could they do this? And on my BIRTHDAY!!!!!"

She will never forget.

And neither will I.

Photo from http://www.janknepper.com

So whaddaya want fer nothin?

Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been over two months since my last post.
No, nothing wrong, I just haven't taken the time to write.
I have been busy, what with the new job and all, but not so busy I couldn't sit down and jot a line or two. I just haven't found anything that captures my interest enough to write about it.
I also have not been reading my normal selection of blogs, nor have I been paying much attention to the news. This probably explains why I haven't found anything worth writing about.
I wish I could tell my loyal readership (there are still one or two of you that check in regularly, I offer my baffled thanks) that I have been working on a project of stupendous achievement that will be well worth the long wait.
Sorry, not the case. So sue me, it's not like you are paying me to do this.
But as long as you are here, I hope you enjoyed the links.
Photo courtesy of Blues Brothers Central.