The scene: after 10:30 p.m., Bangor Backyard. We're standing outside while Eddy did his evening business and looking around at the garden (having spent a couple evenings weeding the garden and lawn).
All of a sudden, blasting across the night air, we hear the rev of a motorcycle, see its lights just beyond the neighbor's garage, and hear, "Well I'm HOT BLOODED, check it and see...".
Yes, Foreigner. Blasted from distorted motorcycle speakers. Late on a Tuesday. It was fabulous. The bikes were stopped just long enough to get through the whole chorus, probably agree on directions where they were headed next, then they roared off, the Doppler effect taking the song with it as they crossed the interstate.
"Got a fever of 103..." (now you can have it stuck in your head all day too).
We just had friends on a bike trip stay at the ol' Bangor Bungalow. What a great summer vacation thing to do - head off with just the necessities and a vehicle that gets 50+ mpg. Plus everyone that does it ends up with a glowing sunburn and a perma-grin. And great hair.
Happy trails, Easy Riders.