Our Kawasaki bikes sat idle in Jim’s shop, collecting dust. We once rode together, making memories on the highways and byways of our nation during what was an unforgettable season of life that lasted most of fifteen years.

We rode the Parkway through the beautiful Blue Ridge Mountains – our first long ride together – and shared that experience with my uncles, Jack and David, and my aunt, Glenda. Later, Jim and I rode together through the Badlands and the Flint Hills; across NW Arkansas, SE Oklahoma, NE New Mexico, and to many other states. We took day trips across our own state of Kansas. The Rocky Mountains beckoned us with awesome vistas and horizons. We saw Devil’s Tower, Mt. Rushmore, and Crazy Horse from the back of our bikes. We experienced the beauty of backroads, often unseen by those who travel the Interstate. The smells of freshly-cut alfalfa, rushing rapids, prairie grasses, or pine trees blowing in the wind add a certain dimension to any ride; a reality motorcyclists enjoy that is unknown to those who don’t ride.

Thankfully, in all those miles of our motorcycle season, we were kept safe. There was only one incident – a near miss – that made our blood boil (drivers can be so careless). Sweltering triple-digit heat resulted in sunburns and caused us to question our sanity at times (there’s no escaping the heat on a bike). Months later, chilled air would seep into every gap in our leather chaps and jackets as we rode at 55 mph; we were frozen to the core a time or two.

We sought refuge from hail stones when threatening skies blew across our path. We learned to ride through pouring rain, wishing for wipers on our helmets. We avoided riding at dusk, but when we had to, we were super-vigilant for deer and other critters. An emergency once cut our trip short, demanding a long, hard (all-day) ride from Custer SD back to Kansas. I swore I’d never get on my trike again, but I did . . . a few weeks later.

Seasons come and seasons go. We usually have little control over these seasons – whether seasons of life or weather-related seasons. Some last forever; others are short-lived. We adjust and move on, without much control. Heat waves (like in Kansas right now) stifle our plans for outdoor events. Wind chills and snow will soon do the same. Again, we have little control.

Recently, I found a picture of Shotgun’s first ride on Jim’s bike. Can you find him? He’s just a young pup, peeking out of his comfy soft-sided kennel, securely strapped on the seat behind Jim. Shotgun (named because he always rode shotgun with Jim) was safely tethered with just enough slack to sit on his haunches and watch the world go by. At times, he would put his paws on Jim’s back, stretching to see over his shoulders. Other times, he sat calmly, taking in a side-view as they rode off into the sunset, together.

We weren’t young pups in that season of life! We were grandparents and empty-nesters when we added this adventure. We were in the second half of our lives. Who knew? Certainly not me!

But, our motorcycle season ended abruptly and without our permission just a few months after Jim’s picture with Shotgun was taken. An unexpected and unwelcome illness brought breathing issues and compromised health to Jim. Covid hit with such brutality that he was hospitalized for most of a month. He never regained enough strength to safely and confidently maneuver his bike. Because of lost muscle tone and stamina, his beloved bike sat idle, as did my trike.

Shotgun remained ready to go whether we were just taking limbs to the landfill or going on a vacation. He was a great traveler . . . until he, too, developed health issues. We spent thousands of dollars during this season of heartbreak, yet no medication, supplement, pro-biotic, or special diet brought relief. He was happy, well-loved, and relatively young when we had to say goodbye to our traveling companion. That was an excruciatingly difficult season.

Similarly, we said goodbye to our bikes. Jim took one last ride on his, then another on mine. He rode to the dealership where we bought our bikes and put them on consignment, hoping someone younger would enjoy them. Adventures now await two younger couples. Ride safely, y’all. Enjoy this season of life!

We wouldn’t trade our adventures for anything. We’re thankful for the memories that replay in our minds many years after that season of life has forever passed.