THE MOTORCYCLIST by Martin Eden It is the province of knowledge to speak, and it is the privilege of wisdom to listen. --Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr. I HAD JUST ORDERED A CUP of steaming coffee at the counter inside the old roadhouse, a relic from the stagecoach days, and had sauntered up to pair of riders conversing near two machines parked not far from my own. The two bikes couldn't have been more different. One was a brand new sports-bike, gleaming lazily in the pale early morning sun. The machine was fairly dazzling, its sleek, rakish lines and arresting colors clearly betraying its purpose. The other was patently nondescript. It may have been black I can't clearly recall now. It was certainly European: BMW and Moto Guzzi come to mind. It might have been an early Harley-Davidson or Indian, though, now that I think back; or perhaps an Excelsior, or Brough-Superior. The actual brand was of no consequence regardless of the marque, it exuded the classic and unmistakable aura of t
Wherever You Are, You're In BFE