For 15 years I have enjoyed the peace and freedom this powerful vehicle has provided me. Only those who have stretched one of her kind out across the landscape of our endless Interstate system, would one possibly understand the exhilaration you feel while sitting astride such a fine tuned machine wearing boots, leather, gloves and helmet as the world passes by at 75+ mph. And haven’t each of us, who has ever participated in such cross country sorties, tingled with excitement as we experienced the intense summer storms laced with lightning and unrelenting rain? We would just push through the heat cell that captured us with an increased adrenaline rush, knowing a scant few minutes/miles down the road we would exit from the intense soaking encounter unscathed. It was times like these, as we watched the storm cell that we just exited disappear in our rearview mirrors and start to focus on the next one approaching. Imagine how something like this stimulated our desire to never get off of these fine machines. Oh yes as we called it, "the slicing of the storm!" And who amongst us reading this would not deny the urge to just “twist” the throttle on those occasions we might find ourselves on a solo cross country? If I live to be 125 years of age, I will never forget this temptation urging the mind to JUST DO IT! Gazing as far as I could see across the vast landscape of openness for anything remotely resembling a police car, this foolish recklessness trips in my mind all too often and the thrill is on! How can I describe this feeling of unrestrained torque as I accelerate from a cruising speed of 75 mph up through 100 to the max speed of the 124 mph limits of a fully dressed Honda Goldwing! All the time being pushed back into the seat still desiring more speed! No, a flat tire, passing raccoon, skunk or armadillo never crossed my mind, but the idea I was properly dressed did insure the possibility of an open casket funeral, even at that speed. However… Let it be known, the need for speed still exists in the depths of my aging soul as some unknown caged demon is still begging to be set free once again, somewhere, on or in something!