My dad came back from Vietnam and was involved with a biker gang in the 70s. He didn’t ride a bike, but he drove a van. One year as a preteen I proudly accompanied him with supplies for a pig roast up to a party at the land in the northwoods. Driving at night, through the tall pine trees, the headlights pushing us on, deep in the dark, far way from anybody. Listening to this 8 track (among others):

Back Where You Belong

I’m always transported to that place, everytime I hear it.