Her Last Ride Memoirs of a Harley Woman
In August of 2010, my sister Barb Slaughter took a cross-country motorcycle road trip on her Harley Davidson Street Glide, Cleo.
Starting in her home town of Charlottesville, VA., Barb ventured into more than what was supposed to be a 30 day quest. In the journal that she kept on her ride that August and in the other eight, dog-eared journals from the past forty-two years of her life that I found in her attic, Barb left more than just documentation of her life’s experiences. Barb wrote about her spirit-based convictions unabashedly and with a sense of awe and gratitude. Barb reflected upon and articulated something larger in her life than just her experiences (good and not so good). Her inspiration was invested in a deeper truth about her humanness, her spirituality, and whom she knew God to be – “The Universe.”
During the course of Barb’s cross-country motorcycle excursion, she admitted herself into an emergency room in Durango, CO. after experiencing “heart attack-like” pains.
The X-rays showed an abnormality on her lung. However, the attending doctor told Barb that it was nothing to worry about and indicated to her that “it” could have been with her “all her life.” In late March 2011, after months of wheezing and lower back pain Barb was correctly diagnosed, albeit too late, with Stage 4 Soft Tissue Sarcoma Cancer. Her survival prognosis was about three months.
Well, the doctors didn’t know Barb Slaughter. She was a Harley woman, and you just don’t tell Harley women stuff like where to ride, what to drink–or when to die. She was determined to live Life to its fullest (read: party!) and she did so–miraculously–feeling little or no pain associated with this type of cancer until the last couple of weeks of her life.
Through the outpouring of prayers and human goodness over the ensuing months, Barb outlived her original prognosis by a year and three months. Her doctors were flummoxed; we witnessed a miracle.
On crystal clear days, when I hear the sounds of the all-too familiar Harley motorcycles roaring through my town, I know Barb is right there with them. “I truly love riding my motorcycle.” She wrote when she purchased her first Harley, a Fat Boy, she named Shasta. “It gives me such feelings of freedom, independence & exhilaration!”
Editor’s Note: This is a true story. The letters above were compiled by Barb’s sister as part of two books she wrote about her late sibling.
Below are also two videos that Barb’s sister compiled for these projects. I find Barb to be quite inspiring, particularly in a world where we’re all so afraid of dying that we absolutely forget to live.