Only a Few

Yesterday we went to a picnic and antique motorcycle ride thing. HH went on the ride, and I stayed behind watching the picnic tables being towed by a pickup truck, a tie-down strap, and a team of two Very Handy Guys. One drove the pickup truck, and the other lassoed tables with a motorcycle tie-down strap and hitched them to the bumper, and towed them to our selected site until they had enough tables to seat everyone when they got back from the ride. One of the guys then barbecued the hot dogs and Polish sausages. A couple friendly policemen had stopped by earlier and actually TOLD us it was OK for us to move the tables, because until then we thought we couldn't.

The point is, that while some people were riding, other people chatted, and during the chatting I discovered that there was a motorcycle dynasty there that bought motorcycles and never ever sold them, or at least never sold them until they gave up on that particular kind of motorcycle. The young wife of one of the dynasty thought there were maybe 150 motorcycles, but the patriarch told me later there were probably twice that many. So comparatively, my dear HH just barely has any motorcycles.