It took awhile, but I finally became a true Indian.  Ever since I was a small child, my father related to me the family stories and lore about how we come from Cherokees.  My great grandmother, was most likely half-Cherokee, and her daughter, Ruth, was a quarter.  

Maybe this is why, when as a young boy when my father took me to a Harley Dealer in Saint Louis, Missouri, I was drawn to the Indian Motorcycles on the showroom floor.  Indian had gone defunct by that time, but there were some fine examples of late model Indians on the floor.  I was immediately taken by their elongated looks, flared fenders, and solo seats and chrome.  I definitely remember thinking to myself, some day, I am going to get me one of those.

That someday has become now.  

As you can see from the photos below, I look less like a Cherokee and maybe more like a pirate.  Oh well, it's all about freedom, isn't it.