The Amazing Race

(It’s summer and I’m a 60-plus-year-old woman with grey hair driving an older minivan with the windows down. I stop at the last stoplight in town before heading north on the highway. Pulling to a stop I see a biker on a Harley in the next lane. He has a vest on with the name of his club and is sporting a arm-full of tattoos. We look at each other and he smiles.)

Biker: “Wanna race?”