I can't wait to get this chapter of the book started.
Sounds like a plan ... man.
Knowing that your region is hosting the National Rally next year, and you want lots of C14 input from the experts... you should join COG!
You get a ton of benefits that focus specifically on mods and tweaks to the bike, as well as riders (on lots of different bikes) in your region to ride with, chat with, even call for emergencies. The motto is .... Come for the bike, stay for the people.
Welcome to a great chapter !!! 
Thanks for the warm welcome and also the sales pitch.
I didn't realize it was necessary to proceed past the introductory membership, but you got me thinking and reading.
Then there was my ride home from Austin yesterday.
My ride into the dealership to trade in my Indian vintage was bittersweet.
She was a beautiful showboat that never failed to turn heads and get thumbs up from passing cars.
Tons of leather and chrome spoke wheels with whitewalls.....lots of work to keep nice.
I have to admit, I was having second and third thoughts about my move to a Connie.
Was I acting too fast? Had I really thought this thing through?
After all, I have been a Harley guy for over 30 years and then an Indian guy for only 3 years.
The net sum was my whole life spent kicked back with my feet out in front of me.
Can you spell trepidation?
I had about a two and a half hours to talk myself out of what I was about to do.
I must have gotten a dozen thumbs up, some pictures taken of all my fringe fluttering in the wind.
One old guy at my fuel stop had to tell me about the 1940's Chief that he courted his wife on after the war.
When I got to the dealership my red Connie (Miss Scarlett) was waiting for me.
I walked up and she asked me "what in the hell has taken you so long?"
Tapping her toe, like I was long late for a date. Like she had been waiting for me to get to where I was yesterday morning.
Waiting for years.
I threw a leg over her and instantly missed the rumble and shake of my V-Twin childhood.
Her handlebars were narrow and her pegs high.
A quick rap of her throttle was like a bee sting.
I was sitting up so high that my feet could just barely flatfoot.....what in the hell was I doing?
Then she took my hand and led me to the freeway.