Excerpt from Chapter 9 - Sarah and Mark go to Los Angeles.

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    "...Oh, I get it Sarah. Riding a horse is almost second nature to you. I suppose traveling a great distance on a motorcycle could be a bit more comfortable than riding sidesaddle. And his motorcycle would have a few more 'horsepower' than your horse Esmey."
   "What do you know about that Marceline? Your sinuation loaded remark about someone, who straddle-rides a motorcycle but mocks someone who herself rides naked and side saddle, on a horse is a bit hypocritical."
   "I was free and easy on Esmey, sort of like Lady Godiva of Vermont when I visited you last summer; reflecting back on that ride, no one saw me. Come to think about it now Sarah, I'm convinced you were a brave girl on campus to go out with Mark Lowenstein, that hippie-dippy biker. Riding long distances on a motorcycle takes stamina and a strong backbone."
   "As it happened, on Friday after my morning classes I was in our student lounge browsing bulletin board notes and looking for something interesting to do during break week, after being abandoned by my best friend.  Luckily, he walked up to me, and said, 'Hello, I'm Mark Lowenstein; what are you up to during this break week?' His question and the conversation that followed developed into quite an extended weekend affair."
   "I said, 'Hi Mr. Lowenstein; how are you doing?' I smiled with a come-hither twinkle in my eye. ' He replied, 'Hi Sarah, I'm doing fine today. However, this weekend I'm taking a trip down to Los Angeles for a few days, going to an art show, do some research at USC and plan to see a classical music performance at the LA Music Center.'
'That is interesting, Mark; I'm currently between classes and acting gigs; what do you have to offer a girl stuck on campus without a vehicle?'
'Would you be interested in riding with me to that fair city on my bike?'
'Did you say far city? That is quite a distance; seven-hundred miles on a motorcycle isn't exactly riding in the lap of comfort.'
'I think we can do that ride in three sittings; I have some friends and associates with homes along my way; so, riding a motorcycle wouldn't be too hard on us.'
'That sounds interesting Mark, and I wouldn't be a bother riding tandem all that time and sponging off your friends?'
'What are friends for? Besides, they are very generous, and of course, anybody who lives along the California coast, with its Spanish hacienda traditions, knows that to put up a traveler, whenever they are able, is the height of social consciousness. They've told me before in text messages and e-mails that they're always willing to put me up for a night. I wouldn't promise you a too spectacular a style of living, but they spread out some good food and their places are clean.'
'Mark, I think that might be a great idea; Marceline's gone back East to her parents. I think I have a whole week, and I don't need to be in class until next Wednesday. Hmm; let me think about the logistics for a moment.'"
Marceline interrupted Sarah; full of excitement for her, "What is to figure, Sarah; he was willing but were you?"
   "While we discussed the trip, I turned away slightly and feigned a pensive look, then I thought, yes; he is quite a handsome fellow if you think about it. He's a bit of a quiet loner, but at his intelligence level, having friends around him is not a dire necessity. Everyone he casually meets calls him 'Hairy Harriet;' with his close-cropped beard and the longest hair, I've ever seen on a guy. It's was almost two feet in shiny black and with a ponytail; yes, a very independent fellow to ride with down to LA."
   Marceline was now brimming with curiosity, as she queried, "Sarah my dear; level with me. I'm your dearest friend, and you know I respect your judgment. You weren't seriously thinking of paring up with him; were you? What I said earlier about your reputation on Facebook just has been bumped downwards several notches; you are hitting bottom on the Internet popularity chart. What did you really think of this fellow and his invite to go fourteen-hundred miles round-trip on back of a bike? You weren't going to accept, were you..."

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