Ah, feel weird again.
Good story for you. I am in the DC area and ride a motorcycle. When I rode in Rolling Thunder the year before last, I got off of the track at the end and ended up on surface streets, feeling my way back toward the Thunder Alley area. At one point I had to park, cool off and water down. I bumped into some Aussies (God bless ‘em) who were here on their first visit to the US. The husband was very frank. “I never wanted to come to the US. I got talked into it. But I have to admit, I wish that Oz held their veterans in the same regard that Americans do”.
I was moved by that.
When I ride Rolling Thunder, I’m on the road early-early. Even when it’s chilly and barely light, riding I-395 up towards the Pentagon, there’ll be civilians on the overpasses, up out of their warm beds, with American flags, out there with their whole families, waving to me.
My goggles have some kind of issue, they get blurry. I remember thinking, these are my people. This is my tribe.
I couldn’t be more proud of them.
Honor, Duty, Country.
I would add Family.
These are concepts that are being undermined by the left.
They attack our military and gun owners as if those are the people that bring death.
They don’t understand.
They embrace the death cult of abortion and communism as if their version of killing is more honorable than the altruism of those that fight and die for Liberty.
Honor.
They don’t understand this concept.
That is a great story. If there was ever a reason I would ride a motorcycle, it would be with Rolling Thunder.