There was a man who had a bike and what a beautiful bike it was. The man had a car that would go real fast, but he rode his bike just because. He rod his bike all over town, for miles and miles and miles. He would greet everyone with a nod and a wave and he always wore a smile. He loved to feel the breeze thru his hair, and the freedom he felt as he rode from here to there. He seemed so much happer than those who drove cars, and he knew that bike could take him near and far. It gave him a chance to stop and smell the roses, he lived near the coast so he rode to the ocean. He sat and listened to the waves crash the beach, there simply was nothing in life that was out of reach. I knew a man who had a bike, and what a beautiful bike it was. He rode the bike everywhere because it was what he loved.

His name was Harley, and his mysterious girlfriend's initials were BMW. They had met in a chapel where they both worshiped Motto Guzzi, the two-wheeled god of wayward bikers........

cool