Today I remembered my friend Trish. Years ago we met at a motorcycle school. She was a teacher there when I was a student. Although her boss taught me how to ride we all became friends and would go on group rides. She also had more wilder friends and I became a member of their click in a town called port chester. It was some of the greatest days of my life. Trish and I road from New York to Florida in the dead of February, it was freezing and we were dressed all wrong. By the time we made it over the George Washington Bridge we were crying Mercy. We were using the hand dryers in restrooms to warm up. Later years we geared up more appropriately and had the time of our lives. We would stop in Daytona for bike week then cruise on down to Key West for spring break. Parked the bikes rent some scooters and hit the bars for some wild college wet t-shirt fun. We'd uhaul the bikes home to save time.  Trish before she passed left me her motorcycle which journeyed with us on three of those trips. For all the years I knew her we were never intimate she was one of the best friends I've ever had. To you Trish.