The two motorcycles turned down the street heading to the first house that the riders ever owned.
That is the thing about motorcycles. They go up and down streets and back and forward through time.
We stopped in front of the house.
It has been over 30 years.
The house looked its age.
But to us it was a place of beginnings.
Babies.
Painting the rooms.
Teaching the kids how to swim.
Sitting around the small kitchen table talking about the potential of tomorrow.
We got off the bikes and stood there strangers to such familiar territory.
After a few moments, we saddled back up and heading back to today.
Time.
Dreams.
Hopes.
Plans.
We stopped to get coffee.
Laughed about the journey.
Headed home.
Love motorcycles.
The ageless experiment.
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