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COPYRIGHT 2002 Ehlert Publishing Group
We were packing up the bike after a campout the other day, and Genie was having trouble finding room for the football. "Do you have to carry this thing everywhere you ride?" she said. "It's a guy thing," I replied, strapping it to my waist. "Well, if it's so indispensible, why don't you write about it?" OK, good point. See, the "football" is not the traditional pigskin variety, me not having voluntarily participated in any stick-and/or-ball team sports since I was...well, never. Rather, the football is the motorcycling equivalent of my security blanket, only it smells better and isn't as scratchy.
Motorcycles may be as reliable as refrigerators today, but when I started riding we had the kind of relationship with our bikes I imagine one has with a Doberman or a waterbed--lots of love,...
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