Mike and Liz were some of the friendliest people I got to know thanks to HOG, and certainly some of the most interesting. Mike was a tall, lanky dude, with a head full of thick red hair that he kept tied in a massive pony tail, and his significant other, Liz, was an attractive blonde with an impressive, award winning tattoo that covered most of her back. They rented a townhouse in Bells Corners, and every Friday night they opened their home to their friends and anyone who wanted a place to ride to and hang out. Mike, a mechanic for the city ambulance service, frequently worked on Harleys in his spare time. We would usually gravitate to one of his projects in the garage, inspecting the bike and his work. Once in a while when the conditions were just too perfect to ignore, we would go out for a ride as a group. One hot summer night we visited a bar on Montreal Road. It had an outdoor patio and it was packed. Mike was obviously a regular as many of the patrons seemed to know who he was. After parking our bikes, we trooped in and found a table amongst the action. Loud music surrounded us and made conversation difficult. Pitchers of beer magically appeared in front of us. Cool place I had thought; must be a biker bar. A few girls squeezed in at our table and said hi to Mike and Liz. One of them seemed particularly interested in me, and kept engaging me in conversation. I finally let her know I was spoken for and I think there was a brief moment of disappointment in her eyes. Another friend of Mike's who had ridden in with us, and whose name I have long forgotten, perked up upon hearing my lack of interest and jumped in to take my place. Her smile quickly returned, and by the time we left that night, she was on the back of his bike. I never saw either of them again. All that summer, Friday nights at Mike and Liz's became a regular rendezvous. It gave me an opportunity to not only get out of the house and spend time with like minded people, but it gave me another reason to go out and ride. I was lucky that the route that took me to Bells Corners consisted of mostly country roads. The smells of the forest air and the lack of annoying motorists made the ride especially sweet. But at the same time, traveling through untamed back-roads did come with certain risk. There was always that possibility for a deer to leap across your path, or maybe a slow moving obstacle like a snapping turtle to ruin your day. One Friday night the odds finally caught up with me.
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