Chico, Filthy Phil and I had just been sittin' round the bar suckin' down brewski's and discussin' the relative merits of the barmaids rather ample tits. Just another day like so many others.

My name is Gimpy and I really had been wonderin' where all this was gonna go. I had been puttin' since I was a teenager 'cept for my Nam time. I specialized in third world population control while there. Since then it was being a loner and never quite fittin' in anyplace for quite years. But this was gonna be a special night. I had been wearing the patch for exactly 15 years, something of a record actually, and my Brother's were putting up the grunts & grub for the club. Something was wrong though. I cannot explain precisely what it was, maybe the fact that I had survived while so many others had not, so I just kept it inside. But the nagging persistent feeling was like a headache without the pain.

I decided that there was a couple hours before everyone was supposed to show up and so maybe a short putt was in order. I wanted to be alone, an unusual circumstance to say the least.

After making my lame excuses I made it out to the curb where my trusty ol' Pan was sittin' and fired the mother up. The deep cough of the drag pipes was like a sedative as I sat and felt the power and the life ebb through my ass and legs. I guess I mentally laughed at myself for all the weirdness I was feelin' inside as I leaned her over and kicked her into gear. The pull on my arms was like a catalyst to my brain and I just allowed myself to be absorbed into the ride.

I headed out Hwy 14 & 61 south for a trip through the rolling coulee's of Western Wisconsin. It was late October and the air had a chill that was just sharp enough to make my leathers feel as warm and comfortable as an old lovers caress. Fragmented pieces of "Hiway 61" by Bob Dylan sifted through my memory, disjointed but somehow comforting. I had the gut feeling that my life and the world I lived in were intertwined like a string of DNA. Inseparable and right. Even though it was early evening the road was deserted and the feel of the wind in my face coupled with the feel of the bike beneath me and the orange moon in the sky produced a drug like high that I wanted to resist but could not. Up ahead about 1/2 mile or so I could detect a shimmering light which was faint yet bright at the time somehow. I started to gear down and found it impossible to take eyes away from the light. As I got nearer I realized what I was seeing and couldn't believe it was real.

I had heard stories over the years about this but always assumed they were the result of either to much acid or Tequila. Now in front of me was an apparition of such beauty that I was instantly turned on like I had never been in my life. It wasn't the shimmering clothing which somehow reminded me of a set of see-through leathers made out of light itself. Nor was it the woman's slight build or inviting smile and ass. No, it was something else altogether. I had to stop and ask if she needed a ride. Not a word was spoken. As she approached me I knew that I would no longer be alive after tonight and yet I was defenseless to stop. Her hair which drifted in a directionless manner away from her beautiful face hypnotized me beyond control. As she mounted the p-pad and slipped her arms around me a warmth enveloped me and I knew it was gonna be alright.

We putted through the night air and it was only as dawn was breaking in the Eastern sky that I realized that the bike, woman and I had become one and a new brother was puttin' us down the highway. Happy Halloween

Gimpy
'99 FXSTS "Midnight Rambler"