A TRIBUTE TO
GENE PHILLIPS (1931-2005)
Even though you may have talked with him "just on occassions" you felt a kinship
to Gene. You don't know why, you just did. As a rider, Gene's exploits
represented a part of your "Soul". A part of your "Soul" you can't put into
words.....A part of your Soul that you sense only when you start your Harley,
rev the engine.
As you go down the highway the wind in your face, the sound of your pipes.....a
vibration in the seat of your pants......a twist of the right grip and feel the
power....
It seems like all of the road rules are suspended......I'm doing what I want to
do. How I want to do it. When I want to do it.
Foot pegs are out. I'm in a relaxed position....laid back.
Time....just stops...the wild-man, the untamed in each of us comes to the
surface....and the untamed freedom of a rolling tumbleweed comes upon us.
I'm going.....don't know where, exactly.....don't really care.I just need this
shot of adrenaline....that clears my mind....it puts nervous in neutral....and
brings living to a high level of excitement.
All brought on by the cool morning air....that would in a few hours feel like a
heater blowing in your face.
Nowhere else can you experience what you are experiencing.....on your favorite
bike...tricked out....just like you like it.
Oh yes, and with friends....some you know better than others, but you all have
something in common....that something says.....If I have to explain it.....you
wouldn't understand.