Freedom Rider

When I was a little girl my mom called my dad and asked him if she could take me camping. They were obviously divorced. He had me in his care, and she saw me when they could work it out. My dad reluctantly said yes. His approval came with rules, but that was to be expected when someone is taking your 5-year old daughter to her first biker festival to camp and hang out all weekend, and daddy was not going to be there.

The main rule was obviously, “NO RIDING ON THE BACK ON THE MOTORCYCLES!” – Did we listen? haha – to be continued.

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