Once the snow receded, I rolled the bike out of the shed and went through the routine of getting it ready for the season. As I worked at it Phil told me of his youth spent grass track racing and commuting on various bikes including a side car rig that carried his entire family for several years (three kids in the side car Mom and Dad on the bike).
Anyway, once it was ready to go I asked him if he would like to take it for a run. He declined saying he was too shakey now for motorcycles (he's 73 but very fit) I offered to take him for a ride and he said he'd love to, so off we went.
We idled around town a bit then headed out on the highway for a short run to some twisties nearby. I've had lots of passengers over the years but none as fantastic as Phil. I could hardly tell he was back there! Not one single move out of sync with the bike. I guess you would have to be there to understand, but it was really quite remarkable.
Upon returning home and popping the helmets off he couldn't stop grinning. Or talking. "Blood 'ell! Doesn't that go a bit quick 'eh?" And lots more like that. And around and around the bike he went looking at it and telling more stories. I look forward to taking him further this summer, maybe a short day trip to Grande Cache or up to Peace River.
Dan.
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