An American Ride



A short time back just me and a pard

Set out to take a ride the decision weren’t hard

The bikes were all tuned which of course was the norm

The moon was shining bright and the evening was warm


With rain gear in the bags in case it got wet

Our leathers for the chill and we were all set

I blasted down the drive and he did the same

We each could hear the blacktop calling our name


Without a destination our machines split the night

Knowing we’d return by the break of daylight

We cruised past dawn the pipes singing our tune

Decided stead of turning we’d ride until noon


Noon came and went as westward we sped

And suddenly the Tennessee line was ahead

Flying like banshees goin' our own way

We could make Memphis by the end of the day


Memphis was fine but the road was the best

So our rubber-shod horses kept taking us west

A jog to the north and we poured on the coal

St. Louie by lunch was our new goal


Right by The Arch west again was our way

Kan-City by supper was the plan for the day

We planned to turn back at the Kansas state line

But we got there early both still feeling fine


The day was still light so we were northward led

Neither us nor our cycles were ready for bed

St. Jo city limits came and went from our sight

We were well into Iowa when we stopped for the night


In our bedrolls by the river as we lay there we knew

There’d be no turning back on this ride for us two

Rolling on ever northward we were feeling our best

And once we made South Dakota we’d be headin on west


A left at South Dakota with the prairie out front

Figuring where we were headed is no big stunt

Rolling back on our throttles hair flying like manes

We’re face in the wind two wildmen untamed


We crossed the Missouri our goal almost won

And put the Badlands behind us still chasing the sun

As if pushed by demons we rode into the dusk

The black Hill at sunset gave us both a big rush


Thirty miles farther hearts are happy and light

Twenty five more minutes riding into the night

It was like coming home for two prodigal sons

We’re on Main Street in Sturgis and the party’s begun


The bikes are kept ready saddle bags always packed

Spirits all primed for a wander attack

When next the road calls we’ll be riding again

Laughing at the Devil our hearts in the wind