" Hey, Mister....where'd ya get them shorts"

You may feel like you belong, but sometimes you stand out like a sore thumb and all it takes is a back hills little boy to tell you so.

We used to ride 20 - 50 miles a day on our bikes, racing bikes , not motorcycles as we do today. A typical evening after work we would hop on our bicycles and after a few minutes settle into a cadence. Wind in our faces, pedaling away, with each passing mile troubles and tensions melt away. The scents in the air melding one into the other from fresh cut grass, to wild garlic, then finally an evening BBQ. We enjoy the same pleasures today on our motorcycles but with each hobby comes it's own set of accessories. Today, a leather jacket and a bandanna -bicycle attire is as simple with a tank top, latex shorts and toe clips. Now, I wouldn't go to a formal dinner in either outfit but sometimes you just don't fit in where you end up. On one particular day we ended up on some back road taking a break on an old trestle bridge overlooking a small river where a little boy was fishing. Dripping with sweat we disengage our toe clips, come to a stop and climb off stretch a bit take a long drink of water. We say hello, he looks like he stepped out of the book Huckleberry Fin - summer ready, pants rolled, bare feet and a smudge of dirt on his face for effect. After we exchange a couple pleasantries, there was a short pause in the conversation- whereupon he broke the silence asking, " Hey, mister, where'd ya get them shorts?"

Do we ever truely fit in?