My friend Chessie has a great post on train clubs, trains and motorcycles; it reminds me of how much I love trains (and of course motorcycles) as well.
How many of you remember hearing the train whistle when the train came through town? We always wanted to be in a spot to see it when it came by. It was even better when it crossed the street to the school- you had an automatic excuse for being late!
My dad and brothers had a train set when we were young; as much as I enjoyed watching them play with it, I never got to run it as much as I’d like-after all, I was a girl!
One of my favorite places to visit is Chattanooga – besides Rock City and Ruby Falls, they’ve got a great train museum downtown, complete with a miniature version of Chattanooga and the trains that run through her. You can also have lunch in a train car, or buy gifts in the gift shop.
And that brings me back around to motorcycles- as much as I loved trains as a girl, I loved motorcycles more. My older cousins always had bikes, and if I begged my mom enough, I could ride behind them.
I love to see kids’ faces when I’m riding my bike. They almost always want to wave and smile (unless they’re afraid of the noise) and of course, I wave back. The parents aren’t always so friendly, but the kids are! One little boy in a Wal-Mart parking lot just kept yelling “hey motorcycle!” as I rode past.
Last year, when several of us were on a ride together, we stopped at a small gas station for a break before heading home. There were about ten of us, all in one corner, standing by our bikes, drinking water. A very small boy, about 3 or so, and his Nana, came out of the store, and started walking across the parking lot towards their van. All the way across, he kept yelling “Wild Hogs, Nana, Wild Hogs!” I walked over to them and asked if he’d like to come see our bikes a little closer, and he did. He wouldn’t get too close (guess there were too many of us) but he did seem to enjoy looking at them.
I wonder what it is about our chemical makeup that makes us so drawn to bikes and trains? Do you think that maybe, even at that young age, we recognize that those things are outside “normal” for most folks? Or is it the sense of wonder and adventure we all have as children – when we see things that are different, we’re drawn to it.
As we become teenagers and adults, most of us fight to fit in- we want to be just like everyone else, so folks don’t think we’re weird.
But for those few of us who want to be different… ah, the freedom to be who we want to be, no matter what anyone else thinks. Ride on!

Someone twittered a request for memories of our moms; here are some of mine.
* When my youngest brother was about five, he did something to get in trouble, and Mama was going to spank him. He decided he could outrun her, so he started down the hall and into his room, which had slick wooden floors. He hit the floor and slid under his bed to get away – when he turned around, Mama was right there behind him. His eyes were big as saucers!
*The first time I was pregnant (1978), my mom found out before me- I had to go out of town for the day, so I took my little specimen cup to the doctor’s office. I asked my mom to call for me to find out the results. Since she had to leave before I got home, and she wanted me to be the first to know, she cut a picture of a baby out of a magazine and put it in an envelope and left it for me.
*The day she held her first grandchild for the first time- my daughter Mary Beth – May 21, 1979. In September 2007, she held her first great-grandchild – Mary Beth’s son Reid. My baby’s baby…
*When I was pregnant with my youngest daughter, my husband and I didn’t want to know whether she was a girl or boy but Mama did, so when we had the ultrasound done, the tech printed a picture and wrote “it’s a girl!”, sealed it in an envelope and we gave it to her. During all those months, she never let it slip to us what we were having. I know it had to be hard for her, but she did it!
I have a great Mom- she’s made a lot of sacrifices for me and my brothers, and I think she and Daddy did a great job raising us – they taught us how to be honorable people. If we’ve failed in doing that it’s through no fault of theirs.

I got up with some riding buddies of mine and we headed out over to the Pioneer Museum in Troy, Alabama. They were having their second annual “Butter Churnin, Syrup Soppin’ Saturday” today and I knew we’d have fun.
They were finishing up the butter churning when we got there so we sat and listened to some old-fashioned music and checked out the displays in the main building. We saw some awesome quilts including one which was older than the US- it’s been certified to have been quilted the country was formed. The pattern is a “Princess Feather” if I understood the lady at the museum.
We finally made it back down to the cabins where the food was being served- delicious homemade biscuits (by ladies in bonnets and aprons!), hand-churned butter, Carson Anne syrup, and smoked sausage – mmm, delicious!
Afterwards, we visited the other cabins and stores, including a military memorabilia place.
When we finally got ready to come home, it was a beautiful ride- enough wind to stay cool and sun and clouds made a beautiful picture to watch coming home.
And then…when I got home, the excitement really started. You see, I’d forgotten to take my house keys with me.
I tried the back storm door- it was hooked. I knew the front door was locked, but I knew if I could get on my backporch I had a way in the house (secret key and all that). But I couldn’t get the door open. I decided to try to yank the door open using a large pair of pliers; I got very enthusiastic about it, but never got the back door opened.
Of course, Cookie’s in the house barking- he heard the bike drive up and couldn’t figure out why I didn’t come on in.
I finally pried the screen off a window and climbed in using a ladder – Cookie barking all the time. Of course he never did anything brave like run up and lick me in the face, but he did bark from under the table.
I finally got in, and laid on the sofa to cool off a bit; then I went back out to put the screen back on and get the rest of my gear inside.
Nice to know my house is fairly secure and that my dog will at least bark when someone tries to get in.
I’m headed out in a bit to get another key made.

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