There's nothing like the wind whipping at your clothes, and a soft whooshing against your helmet.  Flying down the highway, banking deep on every corner, the soft roar of the bike.  It's a feeling of freedom, being out at night.  All alone on the road, just you and your motorcycle.  That's what I miss most about that Island.  Just me, my thoughts, and the bike.  Nothing is as amazing.  I remember how I used to climb the mountain by my house on my dirt bike, emerging on a clear hill with a perfect view of the little, unique town.  Not a single person up there.  Surrounded on three sides by gorgeous, lush forest.  The view was so beautiful, the town nestled in the curve of the inlet, the land surrounding a body of water that holds a smallish island.  And on a clear day, the Cascade Mountains completed the picture as a perfect, magnificent background.  Sometimes I'd take my bike to my friend's, and go off dirt jumps the height of a small building, racing him down gravel driveways.  You can't really do all that up here... So yeah, I'm gonna miss that place.

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