This piece is for Lee Sutton.

Lee was a close friend of mine for many years. He is no longer here.

He once told me a story. He was riding his Harley-Davidson alone on Highway 5, heading south from Seattle to Portland. It started to snow — heavy, steady, cold. Wind in his face, snow all around, the road entirely his own.

He asked me: "Do you know how I felt at that time?"

I said: "Loneliness?"

He said: "No. Happiness. Joyful."

Miss you, my friend.