As did nearly all bikes back then, my Honda 350 Scrambler had a chain drive that needed daily maintenance—lubing and tightening the chain. Well, I’d fallen in love with the unity of biker, bike, and the road, and did more riding than maintaining. The bike rode well, even though it was loaded high with a backpack strapped to the sissy bar. Pulling out of Banff on highway 93 in the magnificent Canadian Rockies, heading for Idaho, I took full advantage of the bike. Heading into a long, sweeping turn to the right, I barely noticed the 35 mph sign, doing at least 60. OK, maybe more. But I had a good line, until…