We ate a late supper at Bubba’s before riding down to the Monument.Since the bikes had ‘permanent’ headlights, as much as we wanted to turn them...off, we had to have them on for our ride to the top. I was very glad that the Hondas had the quietest exhaust systems of all the bikes we had checked out.In the tranquility of the night, it STILL felt like everyone in the world could see and hear us! I was never so glad when we shut down the bikes, finally killing the headlights.Not wanting to take any. Once we had settled in at Londinium and I was under slightly less restrictive supervision, I replaced my tears with curses. I had squandered my inheritance, just as the prodigal son in the parable. It was only when I began to read the gospels I had managed to smuggle in my clothes that my mood began to brighten. For had not the prodigal son been welcomed with open arms by his father when he repented? And had not Peter betrayed Christ three times before dying a glorious witness to his grace?. More

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