Merry Christmas

I can't lie to you, from the standpoint of a motorcyclist, this has been one of the better Decembers.  I actually got the chance to get out and ride a hundred miles or so this past Monday.  Between the typical December weather and other obligations both in and out of the store, that's nearly unheard of for me.  50 degrees and broken overcast skies presented perfect weather for the big red Road Glide, a heated jacket liner, and a sweatshirt.  I took a ride up to one of my favorite places, Hampton's Store at Skullbone, TN.  I didn't have much time to spend there this trip, but whenever you get the chance, stop in and say Hi to Mr Landon and let him fix you the best rag bologna and salad dressing sandwich on the planet, white bread, of course.  While there, I thought about my good friend and fellow Harley dealer Scott Maddux.  Scott loves Skullbone and I thought back on the great ride he and I and several others made up there this summer, his first actual visit to the place.  Thanks to picture texting, I was able to send Scott a picture of where I was, hoping to include him in the fun.  I snapped the pic and took a look at it.  In that pic, I found another old friend, Click Baldwin. 

Click was another fellow dealer that we lost too early.  More than that, he was my friend.  I soon hopped back on the road, this time, with Click in my head.  It occurs to me, more every time I get out on the bike, that every ride is entwined with the others.  What started out as just a quick spin around a couple of adjacent counties turned into a ride with probably a dozen or so of my best friends, and they weren't even there.  On the surface, it might seem that it started around noon on that cool Monday early this week, but the more I thought and rode, it actually started back in the summer of '08, the trip we lost our dear Click.

I had nearly forgotten that entire trip.  It was the last trip I took out west.  It was only supposed to be a couple days of riding, after our summer dealer show.  A quick flight from Las Vegas up to Salt Lake City to pick up our bikes from my great friend Joe Timmons at HD of Salt Lake (go see Joe whenever you're out that way) and then a ride up through the Tetons in Idaho, into West Yellowstone and finally ending in Billings Montana.  This trip was going to be special because not only was I doing the trip with my wife and two of my brothers, but my Dad was going to be joining us.  The plan was to arrive in Billings, drop the bikes off at Beartooth HD, and fly home the next day.  I sat at the dinner table that night and listened to my Dad talk about his route home that he intended to take.  He was riding back and not flying.  It started to gnaw at me that there was an opportunity before me that I might never get back, another chance to ride with my pop.  I made the decision then and there to call the airline, cancel my flight, get my bike out of the dealership and finish that ride. 

My brothers made the same decision.  And what a ride it was.  Back across the northern plains, through Sturgis, the Badlands, and a stop at my Dad's old abandoned Air Force base.

And remember the things that made our life worth living.

Yeah, that was a great ride.  And it all came back to me because I decided to get out and ride Monday. 

Every ride counts. 

Since it's Christmas, I guess the only thing I can ask of Santa Claus is the opportunity to collect more of those same experiences in the coming year.  To not take for granted a single second that we have on this earth.  My wish for all of you as that you too have the opportunities to take pictures like these..

...The people you love, while doing what you love to do.

Merry Christmas to all of you and thanks for reading.

Scott Michael Bumpus

"For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the LORD" (Luke 2:11).