The long double line of bikes moved slowly along the narrow dirt road of the park.  Tourists stopped and watched the parade as if they expected it to become a Mardi Gras.  About half way through the procession, a pickup truck broke the pattern of motorcycle after motorcycle.

At the entrance to the park a police car sat with two officers inside.  They watched Viper, alongside Snow cross from the park and onto the paved road of the state highway.  They watched a few more sets of bikes then along came Pete.  One of the officers touched the siren and gave a short blast.  Pete threw up his hand in a farewell to his pals and gave the engine a burst of guttural exhaust sounds. 

Bikes of every description eased past them, ridden by riders of every size and type.  Like all the others who watched, the two policemen felt a twinge of envy.  Like most people, they too would like to wave farewell to responsibility, mortgages, PTA, routines, family, and all the other normal occupations and ride free and unencumbered along the highways that lead to new adventures every day.

When the last of the parade disappeared over the hill in front of the volunteer fire station, the two continued to sit for a moment, each lost in daydreams.  Without words, they knew the other was feeling the wind in his face and watching the road come to meet them and disappear under the front tire of the cycles they rode in their mind’s eye.  One of them silently reached forward and turned the key and the patrol car came to life and they eased onto the road. 

Dr. Wyatt guided the Jaguar along the dirt street of the park.  He slowed as he past the sites where he remembered several bikers had camped yesterday.  He wondered at first if they had simply moved to another camp site, but soon realized the bikers were all gone.

Terri noticed also that the group had pulled out.  She felt relieved when her emerald green bike came into view, still sitting where she had left it.

Wyatt turned off the path and made a “U” turn on the grass and stopped beside her bike.  She opened her door and started to swing her feet out.  Then she stopped and turned back to Wyatt.  She leaned toward him and they kissed.

She said, “The last 24 hours have been the most exciting of my life, James.”

“Mine too,” he said.  His eyes lingered on hers, drinking in the young girls sparkle.

“You sure you want to follow the gang?  We could stay here for a while and catch up with them later.” She knew the answer even as she spoke.

“We’ll catch up with them now.  You’ve started something in me that has to be satisfied,” he said.

“I know,” she sighed.  “I’ll follow you to your place.  You get some things together and we’ll haul ass.”

“Do you know which way they were going from here?” he asked.

“No, but I’ll ask the Park Ranger.  He’ll likely have heard something.”

Sudz and Jazz rode quietly along the Interstate highway with Nadu gliding alongside them.  He was lost in his own world, remembering the night he had just spent with his lover.  He wondered how he could have suddenly gone from having to rely on paid prostitutes to such a fantastic woman like Jazz.  He even wondered how long such luck would hold out.

Jazz held to Sudz from behind him and pressed her cheek against his back, looking across at the pretty Cherokee girl a few feet away.  She let her eyes examine the flawless olive skin and the jet black hair and the way the wind pressed her clothes tightly to her soft body, revealing the gentle curves of her.

She remembered the conversation last night and was still wondering what experiences Nadu had encountered in her life.  Sudz had awakened in her a passion she hadn’t felt in some time.  She wondered why she wasn’t satisfied by it but rather found herself wanting more experiences.  She remembered the smell of Merritt’s hair and the way Merritt used to snuggle with her during their travels together.  She made up her mind to get to know Nadu better, to perhaps find in her the closeness and openness she had felt with Merritt.

A hundred fifty miles behind Sudz, Jazz and Nadu, Viper steered his bike along the same Interstate.  The rumble of the dozens of bikes behind him was comforting to him.  He was relieved beyond his ability to understand to be away from the park.  He wasn’t sure if he believed anything Nadu had told him about a curse, but he knew he had never been so happy to be away from any place before. 

Fifty miles behind the parade of bikes, Dr. Wyatt leisurely packed his bags to make ready for the ride.  He was in no great hurry now.  Terri had told him the group was headed for Cherokee, North Carolina, so he knew he would easily catch up and find them.  He was wondering if he should go at all.  The 24 hours with Terri had been something he knew he wanted to repeat.  To do all those exotic things with a woman with Jazz’s endowments was a magnet he found hard to fight, yet the small girl he now had access to, without having to take a chance on running afoul of the law, was a sure thing he found irresistible.

He picked up a leather belt to roll it and pack it away.  He looked at the length of leather and wondered how well it would serve as an instrument with which to tie Terri to the bed.  She was waiting for him in the den, having herself a beer.  He was seized with a desire to go to her and take her thin little arm and drag her here into the bedroom.  He turned and took a step toward the den, then stopped.  He wondered how Terri would react if he took her forcefully and refused to pay her afterward.  “She a feisty little firecracker,” he thought.  Then, aloud, he said, “No.  I guess I won’t take the chance.”  He turned and pushed the belt into the leather bag.