Laconia,New Hampshire

 We woke up early Wednesday morning at Newfound Lake, got on the bike and started riding towards Laconia. For those of you that don't know about the motorcycle, I own ill try and give you a brief (not really) history of the bike. It's a 1973 Harley Davidson Shovelhead  and it was my Uncle Jimmy's from the late 70's up until his death in 1988. He rode that bike everywhere, all over the country, from California to New York and back several times, Sturgis, Daytona,  you name it him and my aunt did it. In 1988, he rode from California to Sturgis and back then the next day he hit the road to go visit his sister in Laconia NH. He was on the freeway outside New York when he was tragically struck by a car and killed. He was buried in a family plot in Sanbornton NH and the bike was brought back to Northern California where it basically sat as a shrine for 20 years to my Aunt. She told me she would give me the bike when she died but one day I got a phone call saying something else. She said I could come get the bike whenever I wanted, I was confused and excited but when I asked why she replied "you rode on that bike before you were born, your Uncle Jimmy used to give your mother rides to the hospital when she was pregnant with you" To say the least its probably the most important thing I own and over the years I've had it I always do it up my way but always pay a huge respect to my Uncle Jimmy by putting his name on it somewhere or now, the portrait of him I have on top of the gas tank. I had no idea where exactly Uncle Jimmy was buried,  All I got from my Aunt was a cemetery name and a phone number to the funeral home in Laconia that buried him almost 30 years ago. We looked around Laconia first for Union cemetery and no dice, it was 93 degrees and riding around downtown was rough on us and the bike so I decided to pull over and try and call the funeral home. Lucky enough they answered and said they did indeed bury him and that he was at Union cemetery but in the next town over. We brought the Polaroid with us so Stef could take some photos of me and the bike and I wrote him a little thank you letter. After finding a frame at the local Salvation Army we rode the 15 miles over the lake on  beautiful two lane roads through the countryside, Got lost couple times but the locals steered us in the right direction. We pulled into this beautiful cemetery in the middle of the woods on this hillside and hoped we had finally made it. Stef took one side of the cemetery and I took the other looking for Uncle Jimmy's headstone aka James Armstrong. Not more then 30 seconds later Stef screams out "I found it!!" I really couldn't believe it, I thought it was going to be falling to pieces, or just not there at all.. I was literally 30 feet away while walking over there and I was so excited I had to have Stef read it to me haha. It was a little dirty and unkept, but we had a bottle of water and some swimming trunks of mine with us so I got to work on cleaning it up. I probably spent 45 mins with my knife getting all the dirt out of the letters, but I felt like it was the least I could do. After I made his headstone look nice and clean I pieced together those photos and wrote him a little letter and framed it up. It was hard to write to a guy that died when you were 4 years old, I really didn't know what to say other then thank you I guess, I've seen photos and heard insane stories about the man so I just promised to take care of my aunt and do his bike justice. It was a great day and everything leading up to it was totally worth it.otorcycle I own ill try and give you a brief (not really) history of the bike. It's a 1973 Harley Davidson Shovelheadand it was my Uncle Jimmy's from the late 70's up until his death in 1988. He rode that bike everywhere, all over the country, from California to New York and back several times, Sturgis, Daytona,  you name it him and my aunt did it. In 1988 he rode from California to Sturgis and back then the next day he hit the road to go visit his sister in Laconia NH. He was on the freeway outside New York when he was tragically struck by a car and killed. He was buried in a family plot in Sanbornton NH and the bike was brought back to Northern California where it basically sat as a shrine for 20 years to my Aunt. She told me she would give me the bike when she died but one day I got a phone call saying something else. She said I could come get the bike whenever I wanted, I was confused and excited but when I asked why she replied "you rode on that bike before you were born, your Uncle Jimmy used to give your mother rides to the hospital when she was pregnant with you" To say the least its probably the most important thing I own and over the years I've had it I always do it up my way but always pay a huge respect to my Uncle Jimmy by putting his name on it somewhere or now, the portrait of him I have on top of the gas tank. I had no idea where exactly Uncle Jimmy was buried,  All I got from my Aunt was a cemetery name and a phone number to the funeral home in Laconia that buried him almost 30 years ago. We looked around Laconia first for Union cemetery and no dice, it was 93 degrees and riding around downtown was rough on us and the bike so I decided to pull over and try and call the funeral home. Lucky enough they answered and said they did indeed bury him and that he was at Union cemetery but in the next town over. We brought the Polaroid with us so Stef could take some photos of me and the bike and I wrote him a little thank you letter. After finding a frame at the local Salvation Army we rode the 15 miles over the lake onbeautiful two lane roads through the country side, Got lost a couple times but the locals steered us in the right direction. We pulled into this beautiful cemetery in the middle of the woods on this hillside and hoped we had finally made it. Stef took one side of the cemetery and I took the other looking for Uncle Jimmy's headstone aka James Armstrong. Not more then 30 seconds later Stef screams out "I found it!!" I really couldn't believe it, I thought it was going to be falling to pieces, or just not there at all.. I was literally 30 feet away while walking over there and I was so excited I had to have Stef read it to me haha. It was a little dirty and unkept but we had a bottle of water and some swimming trunks of mine with us so I got to work on cleaning it up. I probably spent 45 mins with my knife getting all the dirt out of the letters but I felt like it was the least I could do. After I made his headstone look nice and clean I pieced together those photos and wrote him a little letter and framed it up. It was hard to write to a guy that died when you were 4 years old, I really didn't know what to say other then thank you I guess, I've seen photos and heard insane stories about the man so I just promised to take care of my aunt and do his bike justice. It was a great day and everything leading up to it was totally worth it.