Bob rode into town here in southern Maine about five years ago on his 3 wheel Harley.
His appearance is a mixture of Serious Biker and Vietnam Vet, a bit rugged and unkempt But pure teddy bear on the inside that starts to show through pretty quick.
After the service life was real tough for him, PTSD, substance abuse, prison, biker gangs, etc.
At some point he was able to get his life together and further on moved up to Maine where his daughter and grandchildren live.
In this little culture of ours we don't go by last names usually people have nicknames, furthermore not many questions are asked if a person chooses to talk we listen.
A couple of summers ago I had a cute house rented on the shore above Bar Harbor, I mean I could throw a rock from the deck to the water and no their houses in sight. Just me and my golden, Capella.
Bob had constantly been saying how wonderful Maine is but this was based on southern Maine which many of us start to think of as northern Massachusetts.
I was up at this cottage where I really value my solitude but got to thinking I would enjoy the hell out of exposing Bob to the coast up here. I knew Capella would enjoy his companionship.
I called him on the phone, told him to get his butt in his car, gave him the address and told him to come on up for a couple days. I told him to bring a sleeping bag, shaving kit and toothbrush.
I told him we would take a few short rides during the day, grill up some nice big steaks and baked potatoes and just hang out.
The first morning I got up Bob was probably up for a couple hours watching the lobster boats a couple hundred yards off the deck. He was like a little kid, he could see the lobster man throwing over the shorts measuring the lobster sorting the keepers etc. his life was good, mine was better.
I spoke with Bob yesterday, I'll finish the story with what he told me.
Bob and a couple of biker friends went on long leaf peeking trip over in the white mountains of New Hampshire. Conditions were perfect. They stopped for lunch and when it came time to settle up the waitress had two checks for the two but Bob's was taken care of.
The waitress said he was all taken care of.
Bob asked me if I could believe that happened, my response was yes you deserve it.
One last item, naturally Barb's bike has aftermarket pipes and is a bit loud. I've asked him when he goes by the house to rub the engine to say hi. Florida Motorcycle Bob
Bob rode into town here in southern Maine about five years ago on his 3 wheel Harley.
His appearance is a mixture of Serious Biker and Vietnam Vet, a bit rugged and unkempt But pure teddy bear on the inside that starts to show through pretty quick.
After the service life was real tough for him, PTSD, substance abuse, prison, biker gangs, etc.
At some point he was able to get his life together and further on moved up to Maine where his daughter and grandchildren live.
In this little culture of ours we don't go by last names usually people have nicknames, furthermore not many questions are asked if a person chooses to talk we listen.
A couple of summers ago I had a cute house rented on the shore above Bar Harbor, I mean I could throw a rock from the deck to the water and no their houses in sight. Just me and my golden, Capella.
Bob had constantly been saying how wonderful Maine is but this was based on southern Maine which many of us start to think of as northern Massachusetts.
I was up at this cottage where I really value my solitude but got to thinking I would enjoy the hell out of exposing Bob to the coast up here. I knew Capella would enjoy his companionship.
I called him on the phone, told him to get his butt in his car, gave him the address and told him to come on up for a couple days. I told him to bring a sleeping bag, shaving kit and toothbrush.
I told him we would take a few short rides during the day, grill up some nice big steaks and baked potatoes and just hang out.
The first morning I got up Bob was probably up for a couple hours watching the lobster boats a couple hundred yards off the deck. He was like a little kid, he could see the lobster man throwing over the shorts measuring the lobster sorting the keepers etc. his life was good, mine was better.
I spoke with Bob yesterday, I'll finish the story with what he told me.
Bob and a couple of biker friends went on long leaf peeking trip over in the white mountains of New Hampshire. Conditions were perfect. They stopped for lunch and when it came time to settle up the waitress had two checks for the two but Bob's was taken care of.
The waitress said he was all taken care of.
Bob asked me if I could believe that happened, my response was yes you deserve it.
Bob's bike has loud aftermarket pipes, I have asked him when he goes by my house to say hello by revving the engine. He gives a signature double tap on the throttle which always stops me and makes me smile.
Take care, Kevin
His appearance is a mixture of Serious Biker and Vietnam Vet, a bit rugged and unkempt But pure teddy bear on the inside that starts to show through pretty quick.
After the service life was real tough for him, PTSD, substance abuse, prison, biker gangs, etc.
At some point he was able to get his life together and further on moved up to Maine where his daughter and grandchildren live.
In this little culture of ours we don't go by last names usually people have nicknames, furthermore not many questions are asked if a person chooses to talk we listen.
A couple of summers ago I had a cute house rented on the shore above Bar Harbor, I mean I could throw a rock from the deck to the water and no their houses in sight. Just me and my golden, Capella.
Bob had constantly been saying how wonderful Maine is but this was based on southern Maine which many of us start to think of as northern Massachusetts.
I was up at this cottage where I really value my solitude but got to thinking I would enjoy the hell out of exposing Bob to the coast up here. I knew Capella would enjoy his companionship.
I called him on the phone, told him to get his butt in his car, gave him the address and told him to come on up for a couple days. I told him to bring a sleeping bag, shaving kit and toothbrush.
I told him we would take a few short rides during the day, grill up some nice big steaks and baked potatoes and just hang out.
The first morning I got up Bob was probably up for a couple hours watching the lobster boats a couple hundred yards off the deck. He was like a little kid, he could see the lobster man throwing over the shorts measuring the lobster sorting the keepers etc. his life was good, mine was better.
I spoke with Bob yesterday, I'll finish the story with what he told me.
Bob and a couple of biker friends went on long leaf peeking trip over in the white mountains of New Hampshire. Conditions were perfect. They stopped for lunch and when it came time to settle up the waitress had two checks for the two but Bob's was taken care of.
The waitress said he was all taken care of.
Bob asked me if I could believe that happened, my response was yes you deserve it.
One last item, naturally Barb's bike has aftermarket pipes and is a bit loud. I've asked him when he goes by the house to rub the engine to say hi. Florida Motorcycle Bob
Bob rode into town here in southern Maine about five years ago on his 3 wheel Harley.
His appearance is a mixture of Serious Biker and Vietnam Vet, a bit rugged and unkempt But pure teddy bear on the inside that starts to show through pretty quick.
After the service life was real tough for him, PTSD, substance abuse, prison, biker gangs, etc.
At some point he was able to get his life together and further on moved up to Maine where his daughter and grandchildren live.
In this little culture of ours we don't go by last names usually people have nicknames, furthermore not many questions are asked if a person chooses to talk we listen.
A couple of summers ago I had a cute house rented on the shore above Bar Harbor, I mean I could throw a rock from the deck to the water and no their houses in sight. Just me and my golden, Capella.
Bob had constantly been saying how wonderful Maine is but this was based on southern Maine which many of us start to think of as northern Massachusetts.
I was up at this cottage where I really value my solitude but got to thinking I would enjoy the hell out of exposing Bob to the coast up here. I knew Capella would enjoy his companionship.
I called him on the phone, told him to get his butt in his car, gave him the address and told him to come on up for a couple days. I told him to bring a sleeping bag, shaving kit and toothbrush.
I told him we would take a few short rides during the day, grill up some nice big steaks and baked potatoes and just hang out.
The first morning I got up Bob was probably up for a couple hours watching the lobster boats a couple hundred yards off the deck. He was like a little kid, he could see the lobster man throwing over the shorts measuring the lobster sorting the keepers etc. his life was good, mine was better.
I spoke with Bob yesterday, I'll finish the story with what he told me.
Bob and a couple of biker friends went on long leaf peeking trip over in the white mountains of New Hampshire. Conditions were perfect. They stopped for lunch and when it came time to settle up the waitress had two checks for the two but Bob's was taken care of.
The waitress said he was all taken care of.
Bob asked me if I could believe that happened, my response was yes you deserve it.
Bob's bike has loud aftermarket pipes, I have asked him when he goes by my house to say hello by revving the engine. He gives a signature double tap on the throttle which always stops me and makes me smile.
Take care, Kevin
Last edited by a moderator:
