The Airheads Beemer Club is a non-profit club reclaiming the 'Legendary Motorcycles of Germany'

Paul had left for California, I was trying to rebuild the energy reserves, while visiting my aunt in New Jersey and the finances were low. The autumn was on it's way in New England, as well. After a couple of days, my Aunt Jean gave me enough ham sandwiches to last for three days and off I went, to see the East Coast for the first time. The time/money/miles math was starkly clear, NO WAY was I going to finish the trip with the funds remaining. This meant several things; I would slow down, gas mileage is measurably better at 60 or 65 mph than at 70 or 75. I would begin to look for work along the way; I'd been offered a couple of jobs along the way earlier, but, with the exception of the roofing two days in Iowa, I had passed on them. No more would I do that. Food would get real basic. No more motels, even in the rain. I would start to look at Rescue missions and Salvation Army shelters as real possibilities for lodging. This was my first Poverty Ride.

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