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Looking Back MAG
I was15 years old, finally! Not sure what the day would bring, I rolled outof bed with more enthusiasm than usual to prepare for school - and mybirthday party. I floated through my classes and let my mind ponder thepossibilities of birthday surprises. When I got home, I was greeted by anew red motorcycle.
My dad and I have been riding dirt bikes andmotorcycles together for as long as I can remember, but I had never beenable to ride beside my father as an equal. Getting my own bike was thatturning point. It was a coming of age gift, and my father'sacknowledgment that I was growing up.
The weekend after mybirthday my dad and I took our bikes to a place where we could ride.That day I did a lot of falling, riding, learning and some breaking ofmotorcycle parts. I can still remember the look on my dad's face thefirst time I started up my bike. Since then we have shared something notmany fathers and daughters are lucky enough to have. I will be forevergrateful for the bond between my dad and me, and it is no surprise hefeels the same way.
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