From the Diary of the Red Hog
By: Chris W.
6-10-2004
It was the third weekend of November of 2002. The Red Hog was running hard, meeting every challenge, hugging the curves and eating asphalt. The day had been sunny and warm and I decided to extend my ride and found myself in Missouri as the 4:00 pm hour loomed. I was filling with gas when I took my first notice of the rapidly approaching storm clouds on the Iowa border horizon. “This can’t be good” I said to myself as I topped off my tanks with some high quality premium.
I stayed fairly dry…until Mt. Pleasant and that is when the proverbial poop hit the prop. The temperature dove from mid-sixties balminess to a sub-fifties-wind-gusting-rain-driving-brain-numbing-nightmare. To make matters worse the only dry part on me, my leopard print Speedo’s, were creeping up on me causing a misery only an overweight middle-aged male can appreciate.
I had plenty of time for my mind to wander over the next 90 minutes as I tried to keep my mind off of my growing list of physical discomforts. In my cold, tired and agitated state I started thinking of my kids, and the fact that they were all home warm and cozy with full bellies from their mothers fine cooking. I started to think that I didn’t spend enough time with them and that it was selfish of me to spend the whole day without them out on the Red Hog.
That is when it happened. An even darker and more sinister cloud formed above my head (deep symbolism here) and it occurred to me that, maybe even especially that in weather like this that Suzuki Quads would be great fun. And for the value of the Red Hog I could get at least two and maybe three four-wheelers. They would be good in mud which was by now plenty abundant everywhere but on the road I clung to. They would be good in snow, which would no doubt soon be plenty abundant everywhere including the road I now clung to. And I could spend time with my kids! And it would be a family thing! We would have fun and bond like never before. And everyone would love me for being such a great father and devoted husband.
So I did it. I traded the Red Hog for three excellent shiny brand new Suzuki Quad runners. That worked out really well for me, until the first warm spring day when I heard a Harley rumbling through the valley of the river road near my home. I started to notice that quads could get stuck in the mud, it was cold in the snow and I wasn’t spending nearly as much time with my kids on the quads as I had envisioned. We weren’t riding as a family I was starting to resent them all because of my sacrifice of the Red Hog. I began to have guilty feelings about the evil thoughts that ran through my head every time I heard a Harley go by and I thought about how this ill conceived plan had not worked out like I had hoped. Even the devoted husband idea was not panning out. I was thinking it was my wife’s fault for not telling me I was insane for wanting to give up the Harley that was such a big part of my life.
There was only one thing to do. I ran back down to Metro and worked out a deal with Rick and Jarod to trade the quads back in on a brand new Road King Custom! From there I went to the local big and tall store and stocked up on a new collection of leopard print speedo’s, unstained and without failed elastic.
Please if I am dreaming, don’t wake me up!
