Today, my Harley-Davidson was parked outside Longleaf. Her name is Liberty, which is either a beautiful statement about freedom or the most elaborate transportation joke God has ever played on me.
I no longer have a car. I have a Harley. That’s it. Some people downsize to a smaller sedan. I downsized to two wheels, saddlebags, and a weather forecast that now has veto power over my entire schedule.
Liberty is a 2010 Heritage Softail, and I love her. I paid $8,888.88 for her and left an $88.88 tip. Apparently I was trying to make a point to the universe. The universe, as usual, declined to comment.
Riding a Harley as your only vehicle changes your perspective. You don’t ask, “Is there traffic?” You ask, “Is there rain?” You don’t wonder whether there’s parking. You wonder whether your stomach muscles will forgive you for getting off the motorcycle after hernia surgery.
And when someone asks what you’re driving these days, you get to say, “Liberty.” It sounds majestic until you explain that you also need a backup plan for groceries and thunderstorms.
But here’s the funny part: after everything that’s happened, having less has made one thing very clear. Freedom isn’t the same as convenience. Sometimes freedom is loud, a little uncomfortable, and parked outside Longleaf while you work on putting your life back together.
I don’t know what vehicle I’ll own next. Today I know what I have. Two wheels, an engine, a name that means something to me, and another chance to keep moving.
My transportation plan may be ridiculous. But at least it has excellent exhaust notes.
“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free.” — Galatians 5:1 (KJV)
Enjoyed this story? Subscribe to WeRockTV for more Good News, Good Music, and Good Works.
