I know this isn't one of those "serious" topics, and I apologize if this sounds silly, but the subject line of this thread brought back some bittersweet memories for me. Back in 2009, I'd ridden down to my hometown to visit my folks over Labor Day weekend. It's about a five hour ride or drive, so I didn't get down there as often as I would have liked. Dad was a Harley rider from way back, and I've got some nice photos of him riding his old Hydraglide.
So that Labor Day morning, we were all in the back and Dad was giving my bike a good looking over. I asked him if he wanted sit in the saddle for old time's sake (I wanted a photo of him on my bike). He said he didn't think he could manage it now, but ten years ago he would have. So I settled for a shot of him leaning into the saddle... it was a beautiful sunny morning and he had the biggest smile on his face. But four months later, he was gone - his prostate cancer had returned and gotten into his bones (like it often does), and he passed away in early January. So the last really good memory I have of him is him half-sitting on my old bike, smiling in the September sun.
I'm content with that memory of him, but I think unfortunately sometimes it *is* too late for a ride...