Dear Harley,

It started as a summer romance. Remember that? One hundred dollars for a vintage blue bicycle with slightly sticky gears and a seat that was-at first-too high for me.

It was love. We went everywhere together. To the Oval. To the Matthews House to see my boys.  To see the kiddos I nannied. I laughed as you pulled my three year old around the cul-de-sac in a trailer. That was Anderson’s favorite.

We did have that one spill… the one where I took the train tracks at just the wrong angle and you freaked out, spilled me head-over-sandals onto the pavement. I think I must have just told you that I would be going away for a while, leaving you with Chichi. You didn’t like that very much. Either way I ended up in the street, shaky and bleeding, and wandered into MUGs for a bandaid and a hug from my favorite barista.

You’ll be happy to know he still tells the story to everyone who knows me. “I’m the guy who saved Heather from her bike accident.” Betcha didn’t see that one coming. (I didn’t.)

I didn’t like leaving you behind. Trust me, the number of times I wished you were around on the Race are too many to count. You’ve given me such freedom, Harley. You know that, right?

Anyway, I’m going away again. Trust me, the last thing I want to do is to leave you behind, but planes only allow so much baggage and this time… Oh this time, Harley, I’m going after my Kingdom dreams, the ones I told you and God about that  summer. I wish you were coming with me.

Right now, I think the best thing is for Danae to take you.  You’ll like her. She’s so much fun. She’ll keep your gears oiled and your tires full. I promise to tell her that you like to ride the Poudre River Trail more than anything, and to lock you up through your frame, and not just the tires. She’s going to take such good care of you. I promise.

So, I’ll see you when I see you, ok?

It’s been a good ride.

With Love,



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