I was driving with my family, my wife, my son, his wife, and my two grand children, in rural Pennsylvania. We had rented a big van to all drive together and it was my turn to drive.
Up ahead I saw two women in leather jackets on motorcycles. I assumed they were in their late twenties early thirties. So young! To be driving alone! And on motorcycles! I hoped to god that their parents knew what they were doing. I would be worried sick if my daughter and her friends went out on a trip like that. It's just not safe for women alone, and all that is between them and the road are those poofy leather jackets.
As we got closer I noticed that one of their leather jackets said "FLAM" on the back in all caps. I was very confused. Perhaps this was a boy-band the two girls were into. I turned around to ask my granddaughter about the band, but she was sleeping.
As I turned back I noticed something fall off the back of one of the girls bikes. I pulled up closer to let her know. I had to do well over 40 mph.
"You dropped something off a few miles back!"
"What?" She couldn't hear my I guess. The engines were probably so loud. I hoped her hearing would be okay. She really should have ear plugs.
"You dropped something from your bike back there!"
I saw the same "FLAM" jacket on a biker on an open highway, but there was only one biker when I saw her, not two. I, too, felt scared for her and her parents, knowing that I would never have the ability to leave everything behind and hit the road by myself. Especially not on a motorcycle. I watched her from my car window and heard a faint song coming from her lips that I couldn't quite make out. She had a carefree attitude that I wished I could somehow have. I spent the remainder of the car ride watching her, practicing my best biker girl look.
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