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By Angie Cooper • GWRRA #300375 • Scranton, South CarolinaWhen receiving a gift, there isnothing quite like the feelingof suspense and excitementone has when handed a brightly wrappedpackage. But my dad's was different.I live on the family farm and acrossthe road from my dad, George Sansbury.One evening, I was visited by my dadand—unbeknownst even to him—hepresented me with one of the greatestgifts I would ever receive.Being 69 years old at the time of hisvisit, he was becoming aware of just howmuch of a workaholic he had been all ofhis life and how he wanted a closer bondwith his family.With this in mind, he asked mefor a favor. I still don’t know what he thoughtmy response would be but, being a daring man,he asked anyway.He asked if I would learn to ride amotorcycle so that we could do more thingstogether.Boy, was I floored! I began laughing, as I amnot one to do anything remotely athletic orphysically challenging in any way. Nor do Ifaintly resemble a “biker chick”.But when I saw the hopefulness of myacceptance in his eyes, I couldn’t tell my dad“No”. After all, loving fathers give so much totheir children—how great it felt to be able togive something back to him. (Secretly, though,I hoped that once he actually saw me on a bikeMy dad (left) and me on one of our rides together.he would realize that these two things—a bikeand me—did not go together!)And what about that gift that my dad gaveto me?Well, it has now been seven years since mydad taught me how to ride a motorcycle, andriding has certainly changed my life. To beginwith, I found a best friend in my dad.We wouldride together to different coffee houses in thearea, where we would meet new people andhe would critique my riding with the purposeof making me a better rider.My father was a Member of GWRRA, so Ibecame one, too.And then there was the joy of knowingthat, whenever we rode, he was always ridingright behind me. It was just like when I was alittle girl learning to ride a bicycle forthe first time.On October 20 of 2007, my dad suffereda massive stroke. He passed awayon November 16 that same year, at theage of 76. However, when he had hisstroke, he had it while fulfilling hisdream: We were riding bikes togetherin the mountains.Nothing will ever replace the memoriesof the wonderful times that he andI shared during those seven marvelousyears of riding together.Nor could anything ever do for mewhat riding has done. Riding has presentedme the privilege of understanding whoI am as a person. I have found an adventurousside of me that I never knew existed. I havefound the courage to be more outgoing andeven a daredevil at times. Imagine that!February 2009 61