Today wasn't a day for a lot of miles, but it did seem to be about milestones. We were more comfortable on the motorcycles, more comfortable on the highway, and more comfortable with each other.

Riding behind Terry, riding along side of him, I was struck by how natural it all seemed. His movements all made sense. His choices seemed to match my instincts. And then it hit me. We've been riding together for 20 years. You read that right. 20 years.

He got his first minibike when he was seven. Since that day we've covered thousands of miles on dirt trails, through creek beds, and back roads and interstates. It's no wonder that it feels so right. There's a special bond that riders get. In a very real sense your destinies are tied to each other.

You rely on the other rider to warn you of danger, to be an extra set of eyes and ears. And, most importantly, you rely on the other rider to never, NEVER do anything that might hurt you. That bond can become nearly metaphysical when it's father and son.

Riding along we talk to each other in a sign language only we understand. I can tell from the slightest movement of his helmet when he's going to change lanes. Or when he's going to accelerate by the twitch in his right hand.

Tomorrow we head west, to Columbus, Ohio. It's a 400 mile ride. Not long by auto standards, but an all-day ride for us.

Stay tuned.... John