Saying goodbye to an old friend is tough. When it's an inanimate object it’s still tough- and a little weird. I mean, it’s a… thing, made of metal, plastic, rubber, whatever. Yet goodbye is still difficult. Christmas Eve morning, Bob, Tim, Kevin, Mark and I went for a dirt bike ride in Jean. Nothing like blasting up washes, single tracks and trails to get you in the Christmas spirit, right? This being my first ride since the broken foot, I spent a good portion of the day thinking of that foot. Every rock and obstacle on the right seemed huge. When I bounced over a few whoops and hit another, my foot reminded me it was mending. Yet I think the ride was just what the doctor ordered to get the bone working. Apparently the bone, once healed initially, needs to be worked to develop flexibility. We rode up the hills and into a little bit of snow. Very cool, and almost no dust, blue skies with glorious vistas. Thirty –eight miles later we returned to the trucks, tired and happy. Not only happy, we were pleased to find Kevin and Tim, as we lost them halfway through the ride. Then I went home, rinsed the bike off and sold it. Ow. With the ’50 States in 50 Weeks’ coming up, it’s time to part with the dirt bike. Another price to pay for a once in a lifetime experience. I think what we miss when we part with a piece of metal and plastic isn’t the object itself, but the memories that accompanied it. And the ’08 450 carried many wonderful memories of riding and racing, all over the fine state of Nevada. Great rides, great times, great friends.