Meandering Moments by Elsi

I am not fond of being categorized or pigeonholed. I choose my friends for common interests and/or needs. I refuse to attend a class segregated by age, or participate in any group where some peripheral commonality is considered sufficient excuse: RV rallies, for example, where the people gather together for no reason other than they’re all in RVs. So the rationale behind the Sturgis Motorcycle Rally escapes me.

Nonetheless, it’s mighty popular! This is the 68^th year, and I have been surrounded by bikers in campgrounds, gas stations, rest areas, restaurants, and—most noticeably—along the highway. Single bikers … couples on a bike … bikers in flocks and packs … bikers in protective jackets and helmets … bikers in T-shirts and doo-rags … young, old, male, female, clean-cut, heavily tattooed …

Thinking of the classes and discussions I revel in at writing conferences, I asked a biker dude at a highway rest area what they do at the rally. He looked at me oddly and explained, “Well, they’ve got bands every night. And we can go visit places like Mount Rushmore.” Oh. Of course.

Although, since they’re mostly guys, I suppose they might well be perfectly happy standing around each other’s bikes, going, “Wow!” and “Ooooh!”  I recall a tour bus driver who told me he could gather a crowd in the parking lot simply by raising the hood of his vintage bus. I feel that way about puppies …

I’m so glad the Lord looks straight at me, not seeing me as elderly, or author, or stubborn, or traveler. He just sees me as me, and loves me as I am!